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01/05/98 - Today feels so little like the begining of something new. And it shouldn't. How arbitrary is New Year's day? Ponder. I'm back in the office after four absent days. Well, the days weren't absent but I wasn't here. I was home and in no shape to leave home for at least 25% of it. I missed Mom's black eyed pea and stewed tomato feast. I guess I've no extra good luck coming my way from that tradition. But I'm willing to make my own good luck so that's alright with me. I'm thinking a lucky man would have a 20oz bottle of Mountain Dew on his desk about now... guess who'll shortly dig 75 cents from a desk drawer thus taking the first steps towards this lucky thing? This is pretty easy, isn't it? Did I mention this entire 4 day weekend felt like a collection of sundays to me? It did. Sundays feel uncomfortable but not painful. 1998 has been 4 sundays and a monday... yuk. I'm ready for better. Off to get the Dew.
01/06/98 - My friend Kent turns 29 today. I hope he's well. I'm considering developing a set of silly rules by which to live. I already live by so many silly rules what harm can a couple more cause? I don't keep my tooth brush in the bathroom; Bathrooms are dirty places. I don't eat within 3 hours of bed time; Food needs adequate digestion time before your body's systems shutdown for the night. I always wash my hands after putting the garbage outside. I scowl at smokers. I take ear plugs to concerts. I run against traffic's flow. I'm thinking amongst these should be: Always eat dinner with utensils. I tried this last night... the sandwich was easy; the fries proved too difficult. Or maybe: No talking until I've had my day's first coffee. This would never work because on week days I don't get coffee until after 9am... which, to my distress, is a while from now.
01/07/98 - This morning I stepped outside and stood. I closed my eyes and heard the traffic. I felt the wind wash over my arms. It's May, right? No January morning is a soft, wet 62 degrees. It's dog licked weather. If the sun were to peel through the clouds it might even be gross outside. The weather report I read calls for weird weather until saturday. Will we ever get hammered by a cool snowstorm? I'm ready... well, I have no food at home, so maybe I'm not but I'm within walking distance of a 7-11 and they never close, right? I need a box of Bisquick, several Cambell's soup cans and a cheddar cheese brick; that will get me through anything. I have my sketch pad and a pencil set; That's pretty random, but I like to draw when I'm snow bound. I usually just draw myself... pretty boring, or is it vain? Got me. Well, my window's open and I KNOW it won't snow today... crud.
01/08/98 - My department is defining itself. Words aren't necessarily tied to action thus my cynicism is bound only by a fear of reprimand. Regardless, this sounds fun. I shall attempt to write a mission statement. I'll bet mine differs from the official only semantically... ok, and in creation time. Information Services has two objectives: To serve the University of Richmond's information needs in a manner maximizing the community's satisfaction and to maintain the University of Richmond's technological resources in an efficient manner responsive to technology's growth. Information Services will meet these objectives ethically, legally and guided by the University of Richmond's Mission. Well, there you have it. That took 1 person 5 minutes; In momentary terms (factoring in my time remembering I'm paid benefits on top of my salary but also remembering I'll amass well over my required 8 office hours today) that cost the University about $.50. I'm good, aren't I?
01/09/98 - I'm thinking my house is haunted. I'm a man of science but I have a strong sense things exist beyond current rational understanding. I've been hearing strange sounds in my house, but not so strange that I didn't chalk them up to structural settling noises or bad pork chops. But last night Andy says he heard me standing outside his door calling him. I didn't do it. The voice, Andy says, was mine, but it wasn't speaking loudly. This is what I've thought I've heard... well, not my own voice, but something like this. Hmmm, I'm not spooked. Knives haven't started flying across the kitchen; No one's tripped me as I've walked down the steps into the basement. Pictures keep falling off my mirror but that's not even hurting the pictures (and it can be explained via Classical Physics so perhaps it's not even our spook). So, does anyone know how to find a ghost or talk to a ghost or how to tell a weeny dude stuck in fantasyland to open his eyes?
01/13/98 - I was sick yesterday and am, in fact, still sick today but I'm at work today so I'll write today. I heard the ghost yesterday. I was in the basement doing laundry when I heard Andy's voice from upstairs say "Yeah, hold on. Wait a minute, listen to this..." I stopped the laundry machine and searched the whole house but found no one. Weird. I dreamt about an earth quake but I awoke coughing and couldn't get back to sleep. I started thinking about airplanes and gyroscopes and wondered if some kind of device could be fit on a building so, if an earth quake hit, the building could be stablized with a big gyroscopic stablizer. I guess the building would need mounting on something that allowed it to "float" not unlike an airplane flies so this might be somewhat far fetched but then maybe it's not because weird ideas become less so by manifesting so frequently as to be common. That was a horrible sentence. I like Altoids... could they have frozen my ill brain?
01/14/98 - I didn't sleep well last night. I coughed for hours. Seeking a comfortable position was my night's work... and I did it poorly. I'd roll into a ball on my left side then cough the covers off me. I'd lay on my back with my head propped against the wall until my neck hurt then roll to my right side where I'd cough the covers off me. I'd roll to my stomach and suffocate or cough myself silly. And I was silly. I couldn't stay still for 5 minutes. I'd try not breathing but we all know how well that works... I will give it high points in cough prevention, though. Luckily I'd been doing sit ups for months now so my stomach is not as sore as it has been in past coughing fits. I think I'm about to loss the cut stomach since the dinning hall has opened for lunch again. Yesterday I had a plate of blackeyed peas and stewed tomatoes, a salad, a black bean cheese burger and 6 bowls of jersey dirt. Mmmmm. Jersey dirt is the best dessert, period. Vanilla pudding with crushed Oreos. Let's see you resist 6 bowls.
01/15/98 - My office is almost completely dark. I've no light bulbs receiving power. The screen's background is a picture of Earth from the moon... that's dark. The crappy fluorescence spills in from the hall. Green Day is cranked to 3 on my PC stereo, but it really isn't a smooth amp so nothing much higher than 5 makes any sonic difference. I dreamt of drinking candle wax so I wouldn't cough anymore last night. I saw Homer Simpson do that once so he could eat super hot peppers. The result for him was a psychodelic trip wherein he spoke with coyotes. I think I was delusionally close because the questionable taste of petculi was all that kept me from chugging paraffin at 1 am. I made it through the night. The best sleep I got was between 6am and 7am. I don't recall dreaming but some of my quasiconscious thoughts were almost as good.
01/16/98 - From my hands up this is a weird day. My finger tips, I've found, lack sensation. They feel no different then they have in the past so this must not be new. But how many things have I missed? I many things will I miss? I don't care because I'm perfectly happy the with my hands the way they are. And happiness is important. Happiness may be the only truly important thing. What is health if accompanied by no happiness? I guess it's just health. What is money without happiness? Just money. Everything people think important is only important because it brings to them the thing they call happiness, right? It makes sense to me and I've been thinking about this for a day now. Of course I've been sick and not sleeping well, but clarity of thought was never my strongest asset anyway. I guess the problem with this epiphany is I gain little from it because happiness doesn't come by itself. You can't sit down and be happy unless sitting down makes you happy. Happiness is a by product of something else and can't exist in a void. I'm not saying that well. Let me think some more.
01/19/98 - Blank screen. Blank. Black. Watch out, Jack. Attackers come from all sides but slide on the wet ground. Get down. Stay down. Feel around; maybe you'll find it. Find what? A remnant from the begining is begining again. A wide span crossed only by time but nevermind some words mean less together than apart. A part from the whole can be counted as one when it's loss leaves less. Less is not more. Pour me another. I looked at the other but chose this one. Won but fought hard. Sardines, tamborines and strawberry scented nectarines litter a field of brass green as grass. Polish it bright just right for sleeping tight. But tighter still is my stress when I regress by reaching for anger where there was none. And I've begun to return to where I began... black, blank but I'll become again.
01/20/98 - Yesterday was Robert E. Lee's 191st birthday. A friend sent me this passage. I hope I offend no one by placing Robert E. Lee's words here today. For thoughts like this he is my hero.
The forbearing use of power does not only form a touchstone, but the manner in which an individual enjoys certain advantages over others is a test of a true gentleman.
The power which the strong have over the weak, the employer over the employed, the educated over the unlettered, the experienced over the confiding, even the clever over the silly--the forbearing or inoffensive use of all this power or authority, or a total abstinence from it when the case admits it, will show the gentleman in a plain light.
The gentleman does not needlessly and unnecessarily remind an offender of a wrong he may have committed against him. He cannot only forgive, he can forget; and he strives for that nobleness of self and mildness of character which impart sufficient strength to let the past be but the past. A true man of honor feels humbled himself when he cannot help humbling others.
- Robert E. Lee, "Definition of a Gentleman"
01/21/98 - I've been calculating grimness. Here's the scoop: a car hits a brick wall while moving at some speed; This is equivalent to a head on collision at what slower speed? Hmmm, I decided to equate kinetic (motion) energy. It sounds correct to me. An object's KE is defined as (1/2)*Mass*Velocity*Velocity. My equation looks like this: Brick wall hitting KE = 2*(Head on KE). If I assume everyone drives a Ferarri and all Ferarris have the same mass I can divide the whole equation by (1/2)*Mass thus simplifying it greatly. In fact, after playing algebra guy for a few seconds I get this: Brick Wall Velocity = Head On Velocity * 2's Square Root. It seems too simple, doesn't it? Everyone get an air bag equipped car so I'll feel better, ok? If there's a better way to do this calculation (some of my physics friends say they read this) please tell me.
01/22/98 - I used to leave my bed disheveled each morning. For some reason I make it now... everyday... but not until after I shower. There's something nice about a made bed. I discovered this fact at 27. At 23 I used my bed as a dresser; I slept on half and put clean close on the other half. From 24 through 26 I knew to change the sheets when I kicked them into a tiny, unusable ball. Now I smooth them every morning. I take the CD player and hide it on the far side. I put pillows in their correct place (there is a right one and a left one... I know which is which). My lamp shade even has a front and a back; You'd know why if you saw. There's a nasty blop on it... this goes toward the wall. I actually use a Snoopy lamp. I got him before I went to college and have used him ever since. That's probably enough about my bedroom for today, right?
01/23/98 - Walking back from lunch yesterday *clink*, 1998's first batted baseball. It was cold and we walked uphill and I don't remember who asked the question: Why counterclockwise? Is there a sport in which runners run clockwise? Maybe cricket but who here knows anything about that? The bat's flat and you can swat the ball backwards. There are plenty of sports where running is constrained only by field lines and other player's skill. Perhaps the human body is more comfy tilting to the left when banking around a turn. Is this another right handed thing? The right hand's fingers bend counterclockwise when the thumb points skyward; physics people refer to this bend in the "Right Hand Thumb Rule". Perhaps right handers once again torqued the world to their advantage. It's easier for a right hander to head toward first base this way... or is it? After cracking the ball into shallow center a right handed batter might be facing third. But where are his feet planted? The questions continue.
01/26/98 - I like music. I make music. 2 weeks ago I got a drum kit. I taught myself to keep a beat (It's harder than you might think). Yesterday I dusted my recorder and recorded myself playing drums. I placed the microphone here and there until I was pleased with the way the drums sounded on tape. I attempted to record myself playing a beat. I failed. I tried again. I failed. Finally, 30 minutes later, I got 2 minutes of fairly solid rhythm. I brought out my bass and played on top of the drums. I brought out my guitar and played over the other two instruments. I redid the guitar and decided to use both attempts. Here, for your listen pleasure, are the first 30 seconds of the piece I call Why Buddas Do. I chose this name because I can hear the guitar saying those words... weird, eh? Oh, I guess I should warn you... the file is pretty big. I used my walkman to help digitize the sound. The big file helped maintain what little sound quality remained.
01/27/98 - They rarely put ugly people on TV. I watched Ally McBeal last night and I submit that show as proof. Sure, Ally's hair is about as thin and straight as hair comes... kinda like sea weed, but she pulls off the look with aplomb. I'll admit it's a girl show. At no point is this more obvious than in the scenes filled with sappy music about crying 100 tears. What guy can sit through crap like that without discomfort? I can't and I like the show. At least the guy characters aren't wusses... well, not all of them. I guess it helps to view the show with a beer and Nerf football. When the sap gets too thick you can toss the football into the air. I like trying to just barely touch the ceiling. Since footballs aren't round if you hit the ceiling too hard you'll have to leave your chair to fetch the ball. By the time the ball skitters across the room the uncomfortable scene is usually over... if it's not you just drink your beer until it is.
01/28/98 - This is going to sound stupid, but I'm sick of my own imperfection. It's so hard to face your own weaknesses without subconsciously transforming them into an external problem. I believe almost no one holds themselves accountable for things for which they are accountable... myself especially. I try to see what inside myself leads to my difficulties and it's almost overwhelming. I'm malicious, petty, prejudicial, greedy, lustful, envious... I wish I could extemporize all 7 deadly sins... I'd make a chemistry joke and paint myself as a molecule containing some of each. It's no longer a matter of choice; I must help myself now. My strengths in this venture are intelligence, an honest desire to better myself and an intact, but perhaps unexercised, value system. In travel terms I have a car, a destination and a map. This venture is not new for me but has become immediately as my constant, base performance level makes me dislike what I am. No one should do that... and that's why, I think, instead of fighting, people externalize.
01/29/98 - Today I talk about the president. I thought I didn't care what he and his intern friend did but I'm having second thoughts. I don't think his indiscretion mars his leadership ability but my second thoughts are based on image. In a time when people are crying for role models and strong families this particular trust violation by the actual and metaphoric head of our government is bionic hypocracy. If guilt is established state backed morality lacks any credibility. The American people (see, I can sound like a politician) have a problem, too. For what can we blame Bill? I doubt many are squeaky enough to accuse him of things more evil than we ourselves are guilty. His crime against the state is letting us down. And maybe perjury. Ok, there's his Achilles heal. I feel no hypocracy saying "The weenie couldn't keep a lid cleanly on this affair; how can he lead a country devoid of this leadership skill? What state secrets will he divulge?" Now that's a cynical attitude on my part.
01/30/98 - Weird thing happened this morning. I'm still debating my opinions regarding Mr Bill's scandalous problems. Is he fit to lead? I heard Marilyn Manson address this subject. Egads, his opinions resemble mine. I don't think Marilyn cares about "family values" but about everything else we agree. Were I a smaller man I might change my view simply because Marilyn Manson agrees but I'm secure in my logic. Leadership ability, while aided by respect, is not based solely on respect. You can be a shrewd leader and a scumbag... not that our president, even if proven guilty, is a scumbag. What does it mean that in an aspect of thinking Marilyn Manson and I are similar? I'm not a satan worshiper but then I doubt he is either. I'd bet he's just a greedy guy with a good grasp on marketing. I don't think I'd prostitute myself as he has, but then I didn't have his idea and I don't have his money, either. Bottom line, while outwardly strange Marilyn Manson possesses a reasoning ability which led him to the same opinion reached by me... no big deal, right?