2/6/07
Sunday meant many things to me. One of the few moments I had where I reflected upon my life and measured my accomplishments against those of my friends and the friends of my friends I realized that I'm still puttering along at a snail's pace. Handicapped by unnecessary caution and miserliness under the pretention of ensuring financial security and continued independence.

Jaybird's friend who runs a business repairing old vehicles has a garage on par or surpassing what I imagine Jerri_Blank of LambdaMOO fame has back in Kentucky. elmgrows already has a house and with the help of his life partner (leaving it ambiguous for the lulz) maintain two dependents along with three cats. Jaybird and maribou already have a house.

What the fuck am I doing with my life? Do I really have any direction or am I spinning my wheels because I've nurtured and engendered a lifestyle that isn't much different from living back in New Jersey with my folks except for the fact that I work for a living.

I must remember that what matters in life is that I am happy. Attachments are suffering, desire is a flame that consumes me leaving only ash. No one besides me is asking these kinds of stupid questions or holding me to some standard. They, I assume, accept me for who I am rather than what I own. For this I am happy but I still want a little bit of someone being envious of me.

Reckon that sounds really pathological.

Sometimes I wonder if I am going out of my way to distance myself from the rest of society. As if I have something to prove as being an individual rather than a drone who is part of the hive mind. Now I feel like I'm walking on eggshells because I don't know if I'm going to come across as arrogant, hurt other people's feelings or simply become an object of ridicule like some Goth or furry or emo or weeaboo.

I want to be different but the only way I know how to be different is by noticing other people's differences. Now I'm a big hypocrite opening myself up for ridicule and derision considering the things I have written in the past at heptapod.org. Most recently being my review and commentary regarding the movie Children of Men. Who am I to say anything about how the world should be when I'm just as bad? If everyone else is happy, why can't I find out why I'm unhappy and be happy? Happy for my own reasons rather than following the example and trends of everyone else but still accepting that we're both humans with the same needs in life.

On Sunday I kept running around in my head aghast that other people aren't mature or civilized. I don't get "small talk". What's the allure of music and why is it so important to people? Religion is nothing but a physical and psychological poison. All this and much, much more makes me look at other people and wonder what the fuck makes other people tick. Heck I'm all self-conscious about my actions. For example I sent a link to an image to Jaybird and maribou with the following text:

Hi, I'm cautious about sending you this only because it's akin to stuff that gets forwarded around and really isn't funny in the first place but apparently since it's been forwarded around a million times must mean it's funny somehow, somewhere.

I doubt they'll care and think I'm weird for putting such a preamble into an innocuous email between friends.

I don't know who I am or if I want to be me.

On Saturday raddidge gave me a link to a parable about puppies. I read it, despite whatever raddidge thinks, and thought to myself "Puppies need love and everyone except cruel people give love to puppy dogs." The sad puppy would be a happy puppy after a big hug and a tummy rub.

Reckon that's not what raddidge was trying to get across to me. Since then I've had it at the back of my head, rolling it around trying to understand it and make the idea work in my life. Sure I have excuses like I don't want to smile because the inside of my mouth is a horror show. Yeah, I told myself that was raddidge's way of telling me that I'm no fun anymore and I damn well better straighten up and fly right or else. Both of these thoughts prevent me from reflecting upon myself and how I participate in society.

I really don't know how to interact with people. Most times I figure money is the best way because everyone speaks money. In the end this just generates whores rather than friends and whores just enhance the loneliness of existence.

Plus I am disappointed that I missed Puppy Bowl and probably won't see it until I decide to get cable.

The Forge of God by Greg Bear is a real pageturner. Reckon now I'll give Darwin's Radio another chance. Basic plotline is that there are Von Neumann machines in space with the sole purpose to destroy planets harboring alien life. Unfortunately Earth is the target because the book's written by a human and the planet is radiating radio emmissions at a ridiculous rate. The Earth is brighter than the sun in regards to radio transmissions. No srsly. The main thesis of the tale is why is the rest of the galactic community so quiet, i.e. the presumably futile SETI project, when everyone in a 50 light year volume should be picking up our broadcast leakage. Well the little kid crying for help in the woods realizes why everyone else is so quiet is because wolves can hear too.

Earth is doomed but there is hope. I'll leave as an exercise for you, gentle reader, to read the book and find out what happens.

One really nice touch is that the ships meant to exact revenge are forged from the rubble of the Earth.

Now I've started reading Fledgling by Octavia E. Butler. So far it's a good story. I have two issues with the story. First the vampires in the tale refer to humans as symbiotes. Er, uh, that's really clinical. Wouldn't these long-lived vampires have alternate terms for their companions? Whether it's something as ghastly as ghoul or juicebag or literary like Renfields or perhaps companions, children or wards? Meh, I can overlook this little bit.

Here's the big one. Hold your hats. The protagonist is a vampire who looks like an 11 year old girl. Oh it gets better, she seduces an adult and becomes his frequent sexual partner in addition to source of daily nutrition. Okay Ms. Butler you want to shock people or make a statement or whatever but Jesus Christ did you have to put in a pedo plot thread? Maybe it's okay because the vampire's really 53 years old but still prepubescent for a vampire and everyone else.

A Von Neumann machine is much different than an Eric Neuman machine. The Von Neumann machine doesn't fixate on Marisa Tomei and secretly desire to be a waify brunette while fapping to Celebrity Detective.