to
ailie: all my
understanding. Are you sure you are not me ? Anyway ...
In a garret, sunnily
I am now placidly installed in my new apartment, in the Tlalpan area of Pandemonium Central.
This is part of a 5 apartment minicomplex, that includes a cat and parking space I have no use for (I don't have a car, nay, I don't even have a driving license, what's more, I cannot drive). I have many windows, the place is quiet. Since this is a rooftop apartment, I could string out the shortwave antenna wire; I can now marvel at Voice of the Andes, WWV, the BBC and several fanatic Christian preachers from Tennessee.
The breakup with my ex-SO went smoothly enough, but why do I kid myself ? It is still in progress. There will be many waverings, bouts with angst and late night calls. And I will have it easier, clearly.
Back to the grind
Today work at the Irritating Lump Company restarted, sort of ... Slackery abounded, and I whiled the day away. Well, I had a sort of productive moment in the morning, but it did not last really long. I saw Miss Nice and my good buddy mibarra, a real hacker.
The Caveman, my arch-nemesis, is muttering that he wants to reduce Internet use and access throughout the company. He started grumbling about ICQ, and then brilliantly observed "¿Are we sure that everybody needs email in here ?". My take is that the 'net should be used more not less. But he is a caveman, and a lover of paper and things written in quintiplicate (I am not exaggerating).
Happy things
Napster works again for me. Joy. And I noticed a lot of real music. Searches for Jordi Savall, Lully and Ivano Fossati returned screenfuls of stuff.
I am reading Midnight's Children, which is dense and tasty stuff, not unlike a good curry.
I cooked a half kilogram of dried beans, which means that I am now condemened to eating beans for days - no complain.
Var the Stick by Piers Anthony is a piece of crap. Oooops, I am not being a very good literary criticist, am I ?. OK, let me rephrase that: in the words of Ortega y Gasset, as later confirmed by Tzvetan Todorov, literarature requires a suspension of disbelief that, as the bulgarian critic underlined, should be confined to one element in the narration.
The "novel" I mentioned (notice the insulting quotes) requires a suspension of good-taste. The protagonist is like Forrest Gump, but less charming: Forrest Dump.
The characters appear to have been whittled from the stick mentioned in the title. The book ends in the most melodramatic, sticky, obvious way.
In other words, it is a piece of crap !.
Nodes and noodles
I noded Nubia, which seemed a really necessary node to me. Now, if only someone explained to me WTF is the deal with the nubians joke. It must be one of those mysterious ineffable cultural USA things that will forever baffle (ineffable/baffle, notice the lovely concinnitas) me.
I also noded some obscure photography thing. That one, my friend, is a nodemine.
stone age -oO*Oo- bronze age