I stopped everything to find who wrote this accompaniment so that I could download it right now. I want to take this song on an early Sunday morning, when it's still dark, to a solitary place and listen to it over and over. Or until I find the words that mean the feeling I feel when I hear this music and sit in such a place on an early Sunday morning.
The artist is Jonathan Elias, and the song is called "Move", so you won't spend as much time as I did, looking for it.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
none is so blind as one who will not see...
This is one of my favorite books on God, the universe and everything...and the source of the title of this post. I was reading it this morning and, from the chapter titled Stalking the Wild Truth, this jumped up and hit my brain in the face:
I thought about it, and while the many multiple branches that thought spiraled off into are impossible to capture here, the conclusion I came to isn't. It was this:
Thanks to the oddities of my brain, I have no problem being more than a sixteen square person. I'm the one who, while knowing that the diagram* only contained 30 squares, thought about how it would be possible to see 32, 36 or 48 squares...maybe if a person could see alternate dimensions and what if alternate dimensions actually existed? There could be an infinite number of squares that we aren't aware of and...you get the idea.
Thinking that way is okay when needed, but maybe not so okay when it's not.
Example:
When I'm starting to get angry at the Significant Other for not taking out the trash...
(he never takes out the trash, doggone it he is so lazy and never thinks about how I'll have to take it out as soon as I get up which is the height of selfishness and come to think of it that's just one indicator of how selfish he really is which means that maybe it's a huge mistake that we're even together)
...being more than sixteen squares is a good thing...
(well wait, maybe he was just exhausted because his commute home took extra long because of the rain and then he stopped to pick up my prescription from Generic Drugstore and the 50 pound bag of dog food that he then lugged up the stairs so maybe leaving the trash wasn't personal, just exhaustion)
...but maybe not when I'm trying to learn something...
(like the studying I still have to do for my 70-297 exam which I have to take soon and I've still got networking and security and deployment to read about and test in my test forest which by the way when does that trial version of ISA Server run out and can I download a copy of Windows NT 4.0 to test an upgrade? even if I do I don't have the time and I still need to deploy that additional test DC)
Basically, considering every single possible possibility may not be such a good thing for me in every situation.
*you just have to get the book to see the diagram since I don't have an easy (i.e.: quick) way of reproducing it here. the local library may have a copy.
Be more than a sixteen square person.
I thought about it, and while the many multiple branches that thought spiraled off into are impossible to capture here, the conclusion I came to isn't. It was this:
Know when to be more than a sixteen square person.
Thanks to the oddities of my brain, I have no problem being more than a sixteen square person. I'm the one who, while knowing that the diagram* only contained 30 squares, thought about how it would be possible to see 32, 36 or 48 squares...maybe if a person could see alternate dimensions and what if alternate dimensions actually existed? There could be an infinite number of squares that we aren't aware of and...you get the idea.
Thinking that way is okay when needed, but maybe not so okay when it's not.
Example:
When I'm starting to get angry at the Significant Other for not taking out the trash...
(he never takes out the trash, doggone it he is so lazy and never thinks about how I'll have to take it out as soon as I get up which is the height of selfishness and come to think of it that's just one indicator of how selfish he really is which means that maybe it's a huge mistake that we're even together)
...being more than sixteen squares is a good thing...
(well wait, maybe he was just exhausted because his commute home took extra long because of the rain and then he stopped to pick up my prescription from Generic Drugstore and the 50 pound bag of dog food that he then lugged up the stairs so maybe leaving the trash wasn't personal, just exhaustion)
...but maybe not when I'm trying to learn something...
(like the studying I still have to do for my 70-297 exam which I have to take soon and I've still got networking and security and deployment to read about and test in my test forest which by the way when does that trial version of ISA Server run out and can I download a copy of Windows NT 4.0 to test an upgrade? even if I do I don't have the time and I still need to deploy that additional test DC)
Basically, considering every single possible possibility may not be such a good thing for me in every situation.
*you just have to get the book to see the diagram since I don't have an easy (i.e.: quick) way of reproducing it here. the local library may have a copy.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
emotions suck
I used to be emotion-free (poet, don't know it) and it was great.
Actually I was "emotion-lite"; I felt sometimes, but never to the
point where it interfered with anything I wanted to get done. Like
work, or school, or saving everyone I encountered from the future
agonies of hell (not any more, long story, later post). Given me, a
co-worker/classmate and some horrible experience, I was the one who
could still report to work the next day, early, and stay late...while
the co-worker/classmate would be at home crying, drooling or dialing
the first psychiatrist in the phone book.
This worked for a long time; it meant my acting sucked and I had few
friends, but I switched careers and was an introvert so no big losses.
Then, for various reasons too long and convoluted to include here, it
stopped working and I had to Do Something About It. Ten billion years
of therapy appointments later and now I'm the drooling, crying,
co-worker/classmate. With interest...because I'm getting double for
all those years I didn't feel, plus the newbie difficulty of managing
this brand new mass-o-stuff.
The problem is this: emotions are still a mass-o-stuff for me. They
don't come when I'd expect and show up when I don't and the very fact
that I'm writing about them like this shows I have yet to get them
integrated with the rest of me. They lag behind or race ahead or both
at once and sometimes whirlwind madly around me so I wind up bound
tight in a figurative leash...two inches from crazy at five minutes
before I'm supposed to be in a meeting. Its enough for me to wish
for the no-feeling time again.
Then again, maybe writing about it like this isn't helping matters.
Whatever.
Emotions suck.
Actually I was "emotion-lite"; I felt sometimes, but never to the
point where it interfered with anything I wanted to get done. Like
work, or school, or saving everyone I encountered from the future
agonies of hell (not any more, long story, later post). Given me, a
co-worker/classmate and some horrible experience, I was the one who
could still report to work the next day, early, and stay late...while
the co-worker/classmate would be at home crying, drooling or dialing
the first psychiatrist in the phone book.
This worked for a long time; it meant my acting sucked and I had few
friends, but I switched careers and was an introvert so no big losses.
Then, for various reasons too long and convoluted to include here, it
stopped working and I had to Do Something About It. Ten billion years
of therapy appointments later and now I'm the drooling, crying,
co-worker/classmate. With interest...because I'm getting double for
all those years I didn't feel, plus the newbie difficulty of managing
this brand new mass-o-stuff.
The problem is this: emotions are still a mass-o-stuff for me. They
don't come when I'd expect and show up when I don't and the very fact
that I'm writing about them like this shows I have yet to get them
integrated with the rest of me. They lag behind or race ahead or both
at once and sometimes whirlwind madly around me so I wind up bound
tight in a figurative leash...two inches from crazy at five minutes
before I'm supposed to be in a meeting. Its enough for me to wish
for the no-feeling time again.
Then again, maybe writing about it like this isn't helping matters.
Whatever.
Emotions suck.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
why only two elephants?
I'm glad that these two elephants were lucky enough to get a day at the beach, but I can't help but wonder: why only these two? What about the other elephants; how do they stay cool on the hottest day in Tokoyo? Couldn't they clear the beach for a few hours on the hottest day so that all the elephants could cool off?
Elephants Hit the Beach
Also, that elephant standing on the beach the entire time...the one that's just swinging his head back and forth, back and forth...is he just enjoying the movement or is he stressed?
Elephants Hit the Beach
Also, that elephant standing on the beach the entire time...the one that's just swinging his head back and forth, back and forth...is he just enjoying the movement or is he stressed?
Monday, September 07, 2009
TO: joss whedon. FROM: a depression sufferer
RE: Dollhouse Commentary, Pilot
I know it must have been difficult to record commentary for a pilot that Fox made you re-shoot, especially given the various things they had you put in (action motorcycle scene, dancing in a shirt, er, dress). Thank you, for recording it anyway, and thank you too, Elisha Dushku. Your casual banter back and forth is, for reasons unknown to me, helping ease the almost-painful, teeth-on-edge, transition between the time I took my anti-depressant, be-a-normal-person meds (6:38 AM) and the time in the near (please God, soon) future when they will take effect.
I have no illusions that you will actually find this thank-you note, given that I have little time to do the things that would make this note and this blog easily found, but if you do, you should know that your commentaries, as much as you hate doing them, do help people. And not just the 'I want to know every detail of how you created this' types.
I know it must have been difficult to record commentary for a pilot that Fox made you re-shoot, especially given the various things they had you put in (action motorcycle scene, dancing in a shirt, er, dress). Thank you, for recording it anyway, and thank you too, Elisha Dushku. Your casual banter back and forth is, for reasons unknown to me, helping ease the almost-painful, teeth-on-edge, transition between the time I took my anti-depressant, be-a-normal-person meds (6:38 AM) and the time in the near (please God, soon) future when they will take effect.
I have no illusions that you will actually find this thank-you note, given that I have little time to do the things that would make this note and this blog easily found, but if you do, you should know that your commentaries, as much as you hate doing them, do help people. And not just the 'I want to know every detail of how you created this' types.
Saturday, September 05, 2009
no good deed...
Got a call from my bank's fraud department the other day. Someone in New Zealand had tried to purchase something for the Garden City school...something that cost slightly north of two grand...along with other minor purchases; two dollars to an online dating site, one dollar to a place that only identified itself with a phone number. Going back through my account history revealed that the spurious charges started the day after making a monthly donation commitment to Your Spare Change. I also paid for a beautiful, affordable piece of jewelry as a gift to myself for spending 48 hours slogging through convoluted Microsoft documentation to prepare for a grueling certification exam, but I used PayPal for that transaction so...
Needless to say I had the fraud representative re-issue a check card and send me a claims form along with the complete list of suspect transactions.
There's a truth, lesson, or some other bleak, hard type of thing to take away from all this but I'm not going to think too hard on it or write about it here because doing so could destroy whatever tiny fragments of faith-in-humanity I have left. Instead I'm going try very hard to believe that Your Spare Change was not at fault (maybe they were hacked, maybe their transaction provider was hacked, maybe their IT person is overworked, underpaid and desperate to keep things going to the point where they made an inadvertent mistake when setting up their site) and I'm to go back to donate. But I'm going to look for a PayPal link there before I do.
Needless to say I had the fraud representative re-issue a check card and send me a claims form along with the complete list of suspect transactions.
There's a truth, lesson, or some other bleak, hard type of thing to take away from all this but I'm not going to think too hard on it or write about it here because doing so could destroy whatever tiny fragments of faith-in-humanity I have left. Instead I'm going try very hard to believe that Your Spare Change was not at fault (maybe they were hacked, maybe their transaction provider was hacked, maybe their IT person is overworked, underpaid and desperate to keep things going to the point where they made an inadvertent mistake when setting up their site) and I'm to go back to donate. But I'm going to look for a PayPal link there before I do.
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