#409

Been raining for a couple days now. At first it was heavy enough to up the waters a bit, show some deep puddle on most street, but that subsided. The grass and top bit of the topsoil are still saturated to inunadation point but it doesn't seem to be rising beyond that or spilling or anything that I can see yet.

Sometimes we get some pretty fun and ultimately mostly harmless flooding. Property damage might happen but never in my memory have we ever had to, in this county, huddle on rooftops or prove that our ingenuity is the equal of our ancestor's through the jury-rigging of imromptu watercraft solutions. The backyard at one of the old places flooded pretty good, you could float an empty kiddy pool around.

It can sure fuck up traffic sometimes, though. Once I had to drive my company's shitty little Ford Fiesta (which to my taste drove like Ford wanted to make a car inspired by a potato chip made out of plastic. I drove with that car struggling in my wake, if you know what I mean) around the edge of a puddle so massive I was still displacing about a foot of water in the center and the water had to be six inches up the door on my side. The electronics in that car were literally never the same again.

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Drinking at a bar in thirty years you might meet a fifty-five year old man, scrungid, rufulous, reeking and maladroit, who will fix on you and slur something along the lines of 

"I fuggin help'd mikka fuggin chatbot so gud 't shruptid th'CONmee! FAGGOT!"

I won't be in that bar, God willing and the devil be kept back. I guess that's my main thought. Hopefully I won't be floating in a tube, getting my oxygen and electrolytes and proteins and acids through a saline suspension in my lungs and bloodstream, dreaming an infinite dream. Haha, who says I'm not? But, Matrix or no Matrix, it's important not to drink.

That fucking movie will never stop memeing in my face and at my nutsack. I need to constantly work on a more mature acceptance of that. How many people have been tricked into taking a blue or red pill which both contained the same dangerous cocktail of chemicals before having their lives ruined? Who knows. It's a grim possibility. 

Anyhow, sympathy is my main feeling, I guess. We're all just doing the best we can with the best information available that we are able to stumble upon and interpret. We are all therefore guilty before one another. It's simple to say and hear but difficult to understand and remember that understanding and take it into every moment of life. 

It happens to be true: reading The Brothers Karamazov just the once will not do. Pardons if I've said it before, but that is a worthy meme, worth an occasional repeat. 

*

We must have mercy. If we cannot have mercy, we must try to at least go towards mercy. 

Matrix or no Matrix, you know? 

--JL

#404

Number four oh four! Hope my computer doesn't crash. The concept, just so classic, wouldn't be able to get mad at the massive bird flip that would be--it would be too perfect, now you got a story with more mileage in it than any computer, etc, what are you gonna do, etc, etc. CETRA

ET 

CETRA

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Actually said "Greetings" to someone yesterday, like a teenager's idea of what a "bard" says when they enter a "tavern" to "put the louts at ease" before beginning  to "subtly enquire" after the whereabouts of the macguffin.

"Greetings, earthling! Do you happen to know anything...have you perhaps heard about...cartoons, but from Nippon?"

Maybe (hopefully) no one has actually said the above sentence aloud to another person without the vaguest trace of irony, and I have veered into the truly basement-bound, but it could be even worse somehow and still be real.

Anyway, I don't know why that word came out of me. Must be spending too much time alone.

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The time I've spent in basements with dudes who never leave those basements except to grab things to bring back into the basement and eat--things, maybe not necessarily food--has made me realize that there truly are all kinds of people in this world. Also how easy it is to just be a kind of tick nestled into the crotch of your own species. And how rewarding, honestly.

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Celebrate computer code today, the day of the four hundred and fourth post. Point and Laugh at a Coder for being Loser or Weird or Gay (rip, A. Turing) or Virgin or whatever you want to do to them, I guess, sky's kinda the limit--and thus provide a rich reservoir of the fuel that builds the modern world! And be responsible for the deaths of a few innocent women, probably. I guess all kinds of dudes kill women based on being mad about childhood or their rank in dude hierarchy or money or whatever, huh? 

*

Man, I have every reason to be ashamed of myself--these things it pleases me to call jokes are fucking catastrophic--and I'm just not. Fuck you and up yours! Haha!

Is this what it's like to be...normal? Is this...how Donald Trump feels?

--JL