Archive for June, 2007
i’m going digital »
Friday, June 22nd, 2007
I’ve decide to renounce all things analog in favor of visual representations of ones and zeros. I’ll explain why.
I’m taking a bus back to m.k.e. this weekend. so I thought I’d arrange some reading materials. I won’t likely sleep for most of it being a first-timer and all. coincidentally I have a list of about thirty articles off the alternet that I haven’t read because they are longer than three pages this being the number I’ve set for myself for at-work reading. so I put two and three together and decided I’d print out these articles for the trip.
I made a word document and copied them all in there. this was quick and painless. I even adjusted the margins, text-size, and typeface in order to reduce the number of pages. it turns out that I was sitting on 150 pages of unread awesomeness. I decided it would be economical and environmentally friendly to print these things back-back. that’s when the shit hit the fan.
what the shit’s with this hard-copy business? I have to admit here that I’ve reduced myself to printing one page about once a month. I’m not well versed in the ways of Xerox, but this is ridiculous.
First round: Print the odd pages. I find out later it skipped a page, but everything seems dandy on the outset. Then I print the even pages from the bypass tray, but apparently reverse the order. This makes for some loss in readability and by some I mean it’s as cryptic as Japanese war-time code. In addition, the feed jams twice so I have to watch it continuously and then it grabs two pages instead of the one.
Result: A pile of worthless paper with ink on both sides that is sorted according to some ancient cipher. 75 pieces of paper wasted.
Round two: Print odd pages again, but forget and print from the empty bypass tray. No copies produced. Reprint. Then notice that it’s feeding from bypass and remedy situation for another round. Prints are canceled at the printer and stopped at computer. First set of copies prints successfully. Then I go to print the even pages and another set of odd pages comes out. Then as the third print job goes through from the bypass tray everything is on the path to sweetness. I even notice that the pages are front-to-back in a legible fashion. All is well until the job stops; with about five pages sitting unused in the bypass tray.
I don’t know if you print often, so let me break this down. When you print the odd pages of a document you can pretty much assume that it’s half of the total document. Then when printing the even pages you should, by any math, end up with the other half of the document. This is why having five remaining pages is not only unfortunate, but fucking ridiculous.
Result: Two piles of kindling with just under half of the pages being double-sided. 150 pieces wasted.
Tertiary round: Cave into the wasteful nature of everything human and print 150 one-sided pages. No issues. Staple together roughly by articles that happen to end up at the top of a page. Even take the time to use the larger stapler for the packets too large for the one at my desk.
Result: A successful pile of 150 sheets of half-inked pieces of paper stapled neatly and placed in my bag.
TOTAL RESULT: 375 pieces of paper; 3/5ths completely worthless and in the recycling. 1 paper cut. 150 pages of liberally-biased reading for 11 hours on a bus to add to the half of blackwater to finish.
What I’ve learned– I need a new battery that lasts more than forty minutes in order to avoid printing at all costs. I took the time to day to cause another quarter of a tree to be demolished. While slightly empowering,I’m not happy about it. It just gives me one more reason to put the money toward a new machine.
Plus, by going digital, I’ve instantaneously reduced the need to produce an average of almost thirty pieces of paper each year. Now that’s having an impact. I’ll have to pick up an S.U.V. in order to offset my saving the environment. I don’t want corporations to feel like they’re not doing their part. Oh, and just so the five of you know, if becauseI’m not using analog technologies you find that you can’t get a hold of me, you’re legally able to park in a handicap parking stall. Everyone wins.
cold weather play »
Thursday, June 21st, 2007
I’ve realized suddenly well over the last few days. nothing i do is ever all that “sudden” that the strong majority—probably at least a solid ninety percent—of my relationships have begun between november and march. I’ve had flings and randos thank you God camp, but not many notable examples. Does that seem odd to anyone else? I have because it’s sort of a hobby of mine to waste productive time pondering worthless nothings. some people build model planes. i think I’m better off. taken the time to think of some possible solutions to this strange relation though. I’ve worked out a few reasons for the lack of play in meteorologically warmer months.
First, in cold weather I’m much more likely to chill around a house somewhere drinking my fill. By nature, there is a smaller sampling of the masses involved. In the summer the motivation to go out need not be as high for a night on the town. I usually find interesting girls through conversation. With so many people around it’s hard or impossible to accommodate such things.
I’ve also never picked up a lady-friend at a bar without them being direct friends with a friend of mine. If someone i know can handle spending time with them they may be worth a shot. Randos are almost always disappointing. So i don’t really go around looking for it while I’m at the bar. More time at bar equals less time surveying for potentials. Oh, and I fucking hate crowds. That may factor in here.
Second, until last summer I spent three of the hottest months in Milwaukee. That’s not to say there aren’t money fems around there. I very much like their company, but it’s never substantial because I’ve always had a finite timeline before distance becomes a factor. I’m by nature to the very cells of my marrow a lazy, lazy man. Up until recently distance was a deal-breaker because it entailed at least slight effort.
Add to that my residing at the parents’ house and any rando action was knocked off the table. Instead I chilled with my girlfriends and drank heavily without the concern for finding new play.
Minneapolis has more beaches and more diverse nightlife, but slunks annoy me so I actively avoid their company. When I’m out it’s usually less about scoping and more about chilling. This, again, limits my options slightly.
And finally, morons are to myself as sun beams are to Superman. This makes things awkward. I end up staring off at some box and her friends discussing the importance of different sorts of conditioning products and how their boyfriends don’t like how they felate. I spent almost two combined hours gazing out the window of the Refuge at the sea of downtown stupidity this past weekend. This is funny to me, so I end up with a stupid smirk across my face.
That’s all well and good, but from the outside it looks slightly different. I’m that guy ogling a pack of slutty chicks dressed like classy strippers dick comment: is that an oxymoron?. To any normal skirt looking on, this means I’m an asshole oh quiet, they don’t know the truth there yet. focus people. The fems I’m interested in would have no interest in a man of that stature. So aesthetically I’m turning off my target market.
Being a dorm slut didn’t likely help things either, but maybe girls are seasonal like deciduous trees or house. Maybe the really hot dumb ones make themselves more obvious in the summer months. They show off their fake tans, well worked torsos, and malnourished legs. They talk about the tragedy of paris, the comfort of uggs, and the brilliance of designer ridiculous. Then, come fall, they drop to secondary roles in favor of the cute, funny, interesting ones.
It seems like some sort of biological changing of the guard to ensure both groups get their fair share. I imagine the boxes would all head to warmer climates. This would ensure year-round praise of what their lettuce and rice diets have produced. And the intellectual average of any region they flocked to would immediately drop exponentially like longhorns and green grass. Hmm… Los Angeles… I wonder…
But that’s off topic. Basically I’m thinking it odd that I end up sparking things up in colder months. Am I the only one with these season-related trends?
future transportation; now! »
Wednesday, June 20th, 2007
let me preface this with a somewhat brief recap of why I have uncovered this breakthrough. it will help the story along because it fully encapsulates how my brilliance spurred the revelation. maybe that’s a bit forward and completely false, but just follow along. if you really, really, really can’t wait to find out what this revolutionary mode of transportation is you can jump down past the blocked text see how I make things easy for you? my generosity knows no limit—except of course monetarily.
so saturday night it’s warm. I can’t be sure of the temperature at midnight, but by my internal thermometer it was roughly the boiling point of mercury. the sleep and I use this term lightly here was uncomfortable and sporadic. I think I mustered a total of three hours out of seven and it was in forty-five to seventy minute bursts. it was not fun.and I woke up sunday with the immediate intention of remedying the situation before another semi-sleep. I found my window a.c. unit in the garage and started the installation. everything was going well. maybe well isn’t the right word. the only window I could place the A.C. unit in doesn’t actually sit inside the window it was just placed in there without a fitting by the landlords; and there’s no ledge on which to place it. I was frustrated from “go” and was in a rush to get things in place.
on the way back in from removing the screen oh, I forgot to mention this. the screen was about as happy to leave the window as an anorexic would be to enter an o.c.b., in flip-flops which are only recently a footwear choice for me, I stepped with my right up onto a stair with only about half of my toes. I was in a rush to get things done and was clumsy. I didn’t realize this. I thought the footing was good. So, as I brought the left leg up for another step, it came out from under me.
I can’t tell if my toe jammed on the stair below or if it bent back sharply, but in any case it hurt immediately. it’s been sore the last couple days, but the A.C. is in it’s place with only four unused screws. yesterday the swelling meant my foot wouldn’t plant flat on the ground. I think walking to work yesterday was a bit premature. it was puffy under my big toe and along the left side of it. because of this, I was rolling my ankle slightly as I walked so that became sore. the entire right foot area was throbbing slightly for most of the night and walking on it only made things worse.
the swelling is down quite a bit this morning though not exactly comfortable, but I decided not to push my luck. I was going to drive to the rail. this would reduce my walking distance, but it would also mean i’d have to abandon my prime place in the back. with the construction on fiftieth I can never be sure if i’ll be trapped in the drive from day to day. and i’d be that much closer to needing gas, which I haven’t gotten since the twenty-eighth. I won’t need it until maybe friday and then won’t again for another week, so I opted against it.
that’s when it happened. just before I was about to walk on the bum peg for the second day in a row, I remembered the vehicle that sits in the third garage stall.
my bike. the rickety, ten-year-old, cheap, ten-plus speed, mountain bike bought from sam’s club just a couple weeks before I received my license and subsequently left it to rot in the parents’ garage. it’s an a-to-b bike. it was, I think, roughly a hundred fifty dollars and this was when the dollar was strong. nostalgic anyone??. but when the tires are inflated which I did just the other day it rides like a dream. if that dream stars an eight-year-old mountain bike that spent seven years in temperature-variable storage.
I don’t know if any of you have ridden a bike recently aside from echo—because she just got a new one and probably doesn’t have the self control not to ride it—and val—because of the only-recently discarded boot, but it’s fantastic. it took me half the time to get to the rail as walking which inadvertently meant I was at work at eight for the first time in two months and my ankle never rolled. with a quick few folds to the right pants leg, a slight tightening of the messenger bag, and a few seconds for locking it up at the station, I was packed into the horizontal elevator in no time.
the best part: you only have to obey a few traffic laws. stops become rolling stops; manual signals are only used when a car’s behind me; and I get to cut through trails. the freedom almost has an atmospheric mass.
I may have gotten ahead of myself slightly by naming it the transportation of the future. it doesn’t burn any fossil fuels; it only comfortably rides one occupant; it’s powered by muscle; it’s lane infrastructure has been almost completely phased out; and it can’t be thoroughly pimped. but if the bike is still there when I get back around ten of five, it will become my preferred transport outside of inclement cold or wet weather. and I have my frustration-induced clumsiness to thank.
thanks… but no thanks. »
Tuesday, June 19th, 2007
Apparently drugs do have an effect. And without them creativity seems to suffer. Or maybe it’s more age related. Either way McCartney has fallen off the awesome train into a ditch three feet deep in lame. This commercial annoys the hell out of me, and not even because of the retina-burning colors and silhouettes that iEverything is so fond if. It’s because the song sucks. It’s horrible. And he skips, or hops, or skip-hops. Why is that necessary except to throw another sweet jab at his unipedal ex. dick move, but funny?
This is after freedom. Thanks for that Paul. Let me do a comparison of something you worked on back when lennon was un-shot. lucy in the sky with diamonds:
Picture yourself in a boat on a river,
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly,
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes.
Cellophane flowers of yellow and green,
Towering over your head.
Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes,
And she’s gone.
Lucy in the sky with diamonds.
Follow her down to a bridge by a fountain
Where rocking horse people eat marshmellow pies,
Everyone smiles as you drift past the flowers,
That grow so incredibly high.
Newspaper taxis appear on the shore,
Waiting to take you away.
Climb in the back with your head in the clouds,
And you’re gone.
Lucy in the sky with diamonds,
Picture yourself on a train in a station,
With plasticine porters with looking glass ties,
Suddenly someone is there at the turnstyle,
The girl with the kaleidoscope eyes.
and now for freedom:
This is my right
A right given by God
To live a free life
To live in freedomTalkin’ about freedom
I’m talkin’ ’bout freedom
I will fight
For the right
To live in freedomAnyone tries to take it away
They’ll have to answer
’Cause this is my rightI’m talkin’ about freedom
Talkin’ ’bout freedom
I will fight
For the right
To live in freedomI’m talkin’ ’bout freedom
I’m talkin’ ’bout freedom
I will fight
For the right
To live in freedomEverybody talkin’ ’bout freedom
We’re talkin’ ’bout freedom
We will fight
For the right
To live in freedomI’m talkin’ ’bout freedom
Talkin’ ’bout freedom
I will fight
For the right
To live in freedomI’m talkin’ ’bout freedom
I’m talkin’ ’bout freedom
We will fight
For the right
To live in freedom
you’ll notice not only the bone-crunching redundancy, but the complete void where symbolism and imagery used to hang out. but at least it’s delightfully monosyllabic.
if this is some way of financing a trophy wife, congrats. if not, maybe you should just chill on the bank and relax for awhile. just stay the hell off a neon-rich commercial the next time you’re promoting your latest lyrical excrement.
relations »
Monday, June 18th, 2007
I don’t want to be the guy who’s with the girl because he needs her, I want to be the guy who’s with the girl because he wants her.
It’s an interesting quote from one of the most poignant characters of Saved!, played by Macaulay Culkin. It’s odd how rare it is to find what he’s looking for. In my experience—which is admittedly infantile—the likelihood of finding such an arrangement is about one in six. Those aren’t good odds in most respects, especially in the intimate area of relations.
Why is that? Because almost all relationships grow because of convenience, pressure, or security. The fact that most relationships spring from mutual attraction makes that seem peculiar. But how many relationships do you know survive the transition out of infatuation without becoming uninteresting or monotonous? A solid relationship can have aspects of all three, but when the scale tips from desire to routine, things can become unhealthy.
Convenience is the most unfortunate of the three factors that keep an unhealthy pair together. There’s a mutual lack of effort to grow apart. After some time, couples plan vacations together, live together, share furniture, share pets, and have mutual friends. These are all invariably difficult to disorganize and partition later on. To avoid discomfort is much like the instinct to survive. Some have more than others, but everyone has a bit of both. A desperate man cutting his arm at the wrist with a rusted pocket knife is much like a woman staying in a loveless relationship to avoid loneliness. It is always easier to stay with someone uninteresting than to take the risk of not finding something better with someone else.
The strongest factor is pressure. It’s broad and can be multifaceted. It’s hard to ignore even in the healthiest of couplings. Pressure can come from parents, friends, the significant other, society, progeny, or internal beliefs. While men feel similar pressures to some degree, women are most effected by them. There is a double standard between single men and single women. There is the infamous biological clock. There is the preconceived notion of the “spinster.”
All of these—or even just a few—will keep someone in an unhealthy relationship much longer than they should. People tend to put more weight on opinions of others than their own inclinations. Based on outside influence, some will stay with someone they’re not interested in because they think they are good for them. It’s hard to make the leap into single from a relationship that looks healthy to others whose opinions you favor.
Security is the most underestimated factor. There is a sense of belonging that comes with a relationship. Not only do you have someone to do things with, but you can do things with other couples that you were previously excluded from—or were uncomfortable being included in. Being single can be hard because relationships come with a certain assurance that you were able to find someone. The feeling of having someone will keep people with anyone if they don’t have the strength to be alone.
Relationships can grow just as quickly out of mutual respect and adoration. Those are harder to sustain because these factors can easily diminish or be lost. The comfort of having someone is strong, and usually outweighs the disinterest. This creates relationships where participants grow together rather than grow. Compromise is healthy and necessary in all interaction, but too much compromise can leave someone feeling lost or despondent.
That’s why the quote above is so profound. In it’s context it’s thoughtful and strong. Culkin’s character is bound to a wheelchair. His reliance on someone is a necessary evil of his disability. But when I heard it, I could immediately relate. Even with physical independence I hope for the same ideal. I want a relationship that’s built on the desire to be with someone, not the avoidance of loneliness. I find relationships augmented from mutual distaste for loneliness to be pathetic and unfortunate. But they are very common and their number will only increase as i age.
Relationships are notoriously hard to maintain, and that’s why everyone should strive to be with someone they adore. If you’re younger than twenty-seven, still out of parenthood, and in a relationship because you can’t handle being single: I can only look down on you. Maybe it’s because I’ve—at least currently—found something closely resembling my ideal. Or maybe it’s because I’ve never factored the affection of another into my self-worth.
My advice—even if taken with a grain of salt—is to find someone you want to be with as much as possible. To stay with someone you’re not interested in is only a waste of your own time. The strongest relationships involve someone you can’t live without. The most common relationships involve someone you’re afraid to live without.