Lathe

Discs made of tholin are spinning around at least one star out there. Which means its everywhere. Kind of like plastic bags in the ocean. Though they are not everywhere, just in the big eddy in the middle of the pacific. It is like the trash compactors on the death star, but without the floating metal. Wookies too I suppose. Can't have those floating around choking up nature with all that hair though. However, as astute and erudite readers of this blog will note, an anti-conservationist, nor anti-animal rights stance is ever taken to be sacrosanct here in this the edge of the trash-heap. Rather, than grinding, burning, rendering, resale or deconstructing of wookies the clearing of eddies would be most appropriately handedled by vats full of nair hair removal product followed by weeks of intensive tanning bed sessions. Said wookies would then untilize their innate talents and become pit bosses at the finest casinos found this side of San Paulo. Indeed this would create a win-win situation for all involved. Trash would be free to swirl about the eddys and drain down the hole in the bottom of the pacific (rumored to be near the abyssal plain of Lemarche) whilst many formly soggy and semi-drowned wookies would now be free to enjoy entertaining evenings watching I Love LUcy re-runs on their new 56" plasma televisions. However, like any magnificent plan their are small, trite and nearly inconsequential downsides. In this case the requirement that broadcast cable be required to support emergency alert messages in the wookies native langage. No big deal. One would think. One would think further and realize that the bandwidth and character encoding is simply insufficient to the task. The consequences of this may not be obvious at first blush. Taken from a larger perspectve however, say a large hurricane, hypothetically named Nutria is bearing down on the city of wookie pit-bosses, when all at once an alert and helpful member of the government decides to use the EAS system to broadcast a message to flee the approaching storm and attend the super bowl in the soon to be inundated and flooded stadium. This is when it all breaks down. The bandwidth demands exceed the transmission capacity of the system due to multi-byte character encodings spread across a rather verbose and drawn out monosyllabatic language derived for grunting and slug killing, not for communicating the impending disaster approaching from sea and sky. This is why all the wookies must continue to tread water in the middle of the pacific. Sometimes things in life are not fair. Though I like to see it as a positive. Wookies will perhaps become the preeminant treaders of water in the universe. Something I'm sure which will no doubt impress you whilst simultaneouly making you jealous. So is the way of things. Most especially floaty things caught in a circular pattern going round and round and round. Ploink.

Static Sunlight

The road from 12.5K to 4 spins, whitenoise and crystal flashes of moments. Mountains, sky and earth flipping through pages of t h e book. Rolling open and vertical into a place with more time and less space. Then 1000, 700, 400, 20 and mud, snow and dust. Clarion fades and sun ripples and shines.

I wanna be a spaceship

Khaaaaan! Why can't that happen here? Maybe it will given some more time. Modding your computer, face, or other sundry body parts is already way popular. Many already live in fantasy worlds, devoid of any previous forms of human interaction. Some live at South pole for the fun of it. Taking that next little step and modding ourselves to be cold/heat/food/radiation resistant doesn't seem too wild. Everybody thinks you blow up if you're thrown out of the airlock and into space. One morning it will happen for real and then fascination will take over and everybody will change their misconception. The body part of us, that could be changed quickly. The rest of us, the beingness, that may not change so much. Monks and other crazies who've spent time doing weird and wild things to themselves are going to have an advantage at that point. The change will be easier, less harsh, coping with the trauma of your senses completely being replaced with something else will be easier. So I'm expecting like a few undersea pagodas staffed with calm psychopathic nice-guy types to spring up first. Then it will be off to the races to see who can run around on the moon in their skivvies. That's the point I'm opting for the ultraviolet and infrared upgrades to my eyes so I don't see what everybody sees. They will be my rose colored glasses, except 100% natural and organic. Then I'm gonna call one of you up and we're grabbing my brother, throwing him in the bacta-tank and growing him into a interstellar spaceship fit for the escapades which are now planned, documented, and waiting in the safe-deposit box as I type. It will be great. Khan would be jealous.

Duggery

Sometimes urban dictionary is the next bestest thing after worsted wool pants.

Other times, not so much.

Wondering about stuff 'cuz it's like so cold out. Like as it gets colder are there more ghosts running about at night? Supposedly they make the air all cold and stuff. So what if it is like really cold? Like does that mean there is like more ghosts around? So it's really cold like right now. Maybe it's like haunting time or something like that. Canada and Antarctica, and Northern Russia and stuff would like be chock full of them. Spooky huh? Maybe it's like that, seems like voodoo and stuff is a warm weather thing, so the cold is for wights and ghosts and stuff like that. Wonder what's out there on the edge of the interstellar gas clouds where it is really really cold, maybe just about absolute zero, nothing is moving... not even an interstellar ghost.

Suppose though that since there aint nothing like out there, it would be a pretty poor place to haunt and that is like where the flunkies go to like recuperate and like reflect upon their lack of success elsewhere in the universe. Maybe then they just get all like despondent and stop moving at all and then really do freeze all they way down or close enough to it that it doesn't matter anymore and then they just sit there in this kinda statis for a few billion years and stuff until like a nebula coalesces into a star and planets form and like life starts up and then they've got a nother chance to like set things right... that or it's like back to the icebox for them.

Man, also learnt bout this new way to die this weekend. Invisible flames. YEah, the kind where everybody thinks your joking, except you're really on fire and the flames are burning so clean and hot nobody can like see'em. Pretty pleasant. Least you won't end up so cold that you miss a few billion years. Though you could if you screw that part up too.

Toastada

Sure ADA is great. Not here. Not ever. Not anywhere. This is not my post.

Not sure what it is though. Maybe it shall be about the people in South America for whom the past is before them and the future behind them. The future is unseen. The past is seen. Makes sense. Lots of sense. Nope. Not the freaky time people. Maybe this shall be about the cheese which is not cheese. This is something I would guess may mobilize America, galvanize everyone into action, and result in positive change for the country as a whole. Nope. I'm going to order Little Caesar's. They have pikes and assuredly real cheeses. Maybe this shall be about the people who are risking ire and malice by having their subwoofer infiltrate my place with subsonic annoyingness. Nope. They drove away. Someday it may indeed be time to build an EMP device from the microwave and put it to use. Nope. Maybe this will be about the gamma rays. I've heard they are like everywhere and free. Free for collection and resale. Nope. The loud car is back. With friends. Now I am going to have to think about researching an EMP. Got myself an extra microwave so that's the first step. Ah, drove away again. The street is not the hood, nor exciting enough to warrant chillin in the street at 10 degrees with the winders down and looking cool while playin some sweet tunes for teh laideez. Nope. Maybe this shall be about my idea driving home tonight to start a business of custom painting license plates. There are like 50 or more different ones. They are all lame. So what is to say I can't repaint mine to be some wicked good colors and make it match my shoes or hat or something? I bet there is not a law. I bet there would be right after it got popular. Maybe this shall be about why cars are like so weirdly sacred and nobody almost ever if close to never customizes them beyond the sanctioned little kit parts and airbrushed eagles and chicks and stuff. Sure, there is some attempts at art and there is this one car covered in astroturf here, but I think they moved and all the artists seem totally lame and wanting to do something that matters. What matters is cars. Look the hell around someday. Nobody cares about your driftwood sculpture, nor why it reflects the agony and decay of nature at the hands of time. Nope. Lame. Maybe this shall be about how van gogh inhabits every picture he made and is waiting to twist out of the paint and into your conciousness and to grab and hold it for as long as possible in order to bend you inot a semblance of his own being. Nope. That would be heavy. Not like heavy D. He's too heavy. Heavy like a gram of peanut oil. That is not bad. Not like a gram of flax seed oil. Certainly not as bad as a gram of almost anything else. Why the hell do I want a cracker now. Makes one wonder sometimes if like anything but the next day could have chosen to sneak up on me. And that.... is a wrap. wait. toastada.

MySPACEplane

Hentai was weird. Then the news came that there's gonna be a sub-orbital insertion of an origami spaceplane. For real. Somehow it's gonna hit Mach 7 or so, not burn up, and then land on water or earth. My money is on water... playing the odds, for sure. Seriously sweet though who drops paper airplanes from orbit? Guess it IS called origami which makes it way cooler and more technical. I got a really good idea about monetary inflation though. We all collectively start lauching our paper money into orbit, make the astro/cosmo/taikonauts fold it all into planes which are poorly designed and we all get to watch the excess money burn up on it's way back to earth. The cost alone of putting a lot of money into orbit is gonna burn up a ton of cash... much less the actually burning as it re-enters the lower atmosphere. Though I guess it would totally get weird if those huge euro coins were used too. Probably they would look great burning up, but who knows, maybe they could make it most of the way back, maybe they'd pollute the skies worse, maybe they'd create lots of contrails and help reduce global warming.

Dreamz

Wuz sleepin teh other night and mai dreamz wuz weird n stuffz. Wuz like dis Boolean Dreams happens. Tinkin dat meh wuz like disembodiez pplz ur sumtin. Total whack yy! Likez has it b dat sum nubz leavez teh door open n it cold. qqqq. qq. q. What dis? I lives at great white norths? No!!!1 Tricks tho. Meh tink sometime I duz. Likez snowz n coldz n has darkz. Who dat? Santa? Heh. Noes. I tricks u! AHAHA. Whar dat heatz, i can has... mebbe heatar borkenz. omw 2 fixes. den moar sleepz wit teh dreamz of teh digitalz wurldz of creashun!! cu der bffl. waitz i can has duz heatz... mai houses iz teh warmz. yy! omw 2 zzzz. l8 catz.

Paint's Ready

Watching paint dry is way under appreciated. It's an art form. Not like anybody can just sit there and watch it. Nope, these days they'd have to be taking pharmaceutical pushed attention controlling, why in the hell aren't they illegal; but wait they are making the right people lots of money... type of substances. Grass is a whole different thing. Grass at least usually has sunshine, a breeze, some ants, birds, maybe a squirrel or annoying little dog defecating in it. Altogether way too easy for those endowed with short attention spans to really feel a sense of accomplishment for toughing it out and watching it all happen. No, paint is where it's it. It's slow. It's usually completely uniform, and genuinely boring. The kind of attributes you want for a sea-turtle, your commute, or your accountant. Hair dressers rejoice. You will not be singled out. Not by me at least. Not this time. Don't Panic. Your time will come. For now you'll have to console yourself by rereading the guide.

Oh, that black ship you see. You don't. Not anymore, not now. I've got me some REAL paint.

Quantrain

Time is a river to be rode,
it's not in code,
holding you tight,
nor your abode.

And now that could be,
what one does see,
from that very point,
when one is free.

But yet to dispel,
and to compel,
to strive endless,
thinking to impel.

And leaving now,
waves off the bow,
parting before spirit,
onwards we plow.

Ciao.

Pancake

It seems that stapling lotus leaves all over the roof of my house could be a good idea. Turns out they are nanotechnological wonders of the biological world, representing the plant kingdoms best. The flowers and stuff are all coated with nanoparticles which cause like irridescence and shed both water and dirt in a most efficient manner. Which would be way cool. Like aliens they love the shiny. They'd be using their UV and super stealthy passive IR systems to scope out the region and they'd bee all like whoa, check out that place. Then they'd come to visit and chill in my sweet lotus covered pad. I'd offer them pancakes as a token of friendship. We'd chat, eat, eat some more, decide to take a quick spin out to Barnard's Star to check out the sweet red-shifting action there, and pop back home in time for sunrise and waffles. Too bad they can't stay for waffles. They would like waffles.

Checkers

Which part of king me don't I understand? Seems like all it of. Apparently I didn't get the memo about who is in charge. Phil, who is my closest friend, had something interesting to say about it all. Anyways Phil was saying that like all these memos should be arriving soon and then I'd understand what was up. Then I like as him if he's gotten any memos yet and he says that no he hasn't and nobody even knows to send him memos anyways so that is why he doesn't have any yet. Which is completely ridiculous. I know about Phil and I sent him a memo last week about how he should be expecting another memo from me soon. He never replied. So he's probably lying to me and just smugly waiting for his next memo and being coy about it. Being as I'm honing my negotiating skills I'm not sending him no more memos. Ever. Santa is going to have to send Phil a memo, cause I'm not. Maybe I'm overreacting though. There is a small chance that the vacuum tube system failed or something, or that like one of the slackers in the office didn't forward my memo on. Maybe I'm gonna have to send him another asking if he got my last one just to be sure.

Motorcycle Parts

The road man was talking tonight about the wheel. The big wheel. Not the one with the hand-brake and the hugest front tire capable of splitting when you run it into most any hard wall. The awesomely huge wheel you are on. The karma kind. The kind where it's all one big matryoshka doll and you are like an overstimulated hummingbird high on fructose jumping between incarnations and other times residing in the abstract halos hovering over forms. Sometimes your a rock. Sometimes you're the Rocky Mountains. Sometimes you end up in a lake. Sometimes the lake ends up flowing over you. Sometimes motorcycles end up riding on you. Sometimes you end up as part of a cycle. Sometimes you are the cycle. Anytime you are the nothing of the sort.

Nightwind

Standing near to the fire tis good. Especially good at night. Even better when there is a chill wind.

The wind blows because of the cold and the heat. It's their difference. The unceasing war and conflict as the two seek to parlay into balance.

In that nightwind a calm swift sunrise has meaning.

Becalmed you're going to require an extraordinary ship to sail across those seas.

Cascade

Energy seems like water or satellites. Electrons dance to or through their outer shells and then drop back lower. Like a little fountain with a stream. It's either a cliff or a gravity well that induces the cascade. Gravity though seems like nothing more than this big huge feedback loop. Like an amplifier. It's like just creating a bigger and louder ringing noise. Building it all up into a really large spike. Then it all gets dumped outwards and ends up on our world. Making the plants all happy and stuff after they've had their drink of water and photons. I'm going ice skating. It's winter and the water is all frozen. But this time I'm ready for the gravity and the falling and smashing head on ice thing. Ready to fall and yell.

Waterfall

Areté

When you stare into the abyss the abyss stares back.
--- some famous bra

Coulda swore that I passed by Elrond's house at 85mph on tonights little roadtrip. There was the lights and glowy weirdness and everything. Should have stopped for gas, but it was like 30 cents higher than places 20 minutes away and all the tourists, man they were decidedly non elvish, or was that elfish. Guess shipping gas to Rivendell costs extra.

Word of the day: Monad

Kitteh

More fodder for the thesis feedbag.

Tinder

If politicians burned a bit better I'd quit my day job and start a eco-friendly politician fired energy co-op. The best guess I have is that they are much like witches and are pretty unfriendly to burning. Dunking perhaps, but no pancea for the looming energy crisis.

No matter these days it is all about nanotubs. From what I understand you can fill them will stuff. Really small stuff. Then they hold it for you. Pretty sweet, it is kinda like a KIA or Yugo or one of those really small and unsafe little weird cars from the 80's you see running around once in awhile. What I want to do though is fill mine with nanoducks and then have myself a big freaking expensive bubble-bath with champagne, professional cheerleading squads, and Sir Francis Bacon.

Which is the hard part. Ducks, champagne, nanotubs, cheerleaders... CHECK.
Sir Francis Bacon... FAIL

Normally not a huge deal except I really think being regaled by a crazy dude from the past who's tripping on nanoducks, cheerleaders and champagne that's 600 years younger than him would totally make for an interesting evening. The kind of evening you could then sell tickets to.

Reminds me, on the way to the old dude store I need to swing by and pick up some carnies.

P.S. Please kids, don't play with matches.

Spindle

Bikes are freaky like when you ride them they force you upright. Going over sideways takes work once the rpms are up. It's like your own personal butler duo of gyroscophic helpfulness. Altogether weird though. Something is like pushing you away really hard, but that really hard is in defiance of gravity which is working really hard at pulling you back. What makes this freaky is like earth is really big and stuff and it's got it's own force from axial rotation plus gravity bundled into the mix at the same time. Like it's sorta like having two really tiny black holes (which don't really exist except for the sake of discussion) in the hub of your spokes on the wheels of your bikes. It's all trying to smash you down into it and at the same time righting you as it fights to throw you off and away. If there is like little worlds which spin really really fast so the centrifugal force and gravity are close to equal or something that would be kinda cool. maybe you'd like just float away or something. maybe like you'd have the most sweetest bike in the neighborhood then. Unlessing you lived in the country. Then it would be a dirt bike and the horses would be scared of it. They know that they cant compete with a gravimetric singularity for coolness. Now that I think though it would be bad though. Everybody would want these things on their cars so they'd be really cool and stuff. Then it wouldn't be cool. Relativity equals uncool.

DNA Coding is relatively cool.

Cheshire

time slices are a free bonus of perceptive reality interpreted through your brain and senses. ntsc broadcasts at 29.95 frames per second. enough to fool most people most of the time. which closely beats in harmony with fluorescents sometimes. specially when your monitor is also driving at 60hz. quanitized packets of life and time for you to live and store. you got sunlight and what is probably uninterrupted streams of photonic waves coming soon in an analog deluge. except they are digitally stored as quanta and interpreted as slices. stacks of slices make time. without the stack what would be? now. maybe, nothing more. without the relative measurement time collapses into now. just like right now. it is now. again. and now again. time exists, but not now. only then. measurement of future time... that would be interesting and a precognitory dream. last time this time lord stepped into the room there wasn't time to know I was coming or for any response. other than the only sane response. which was to dance sideways through the now and right inside/outside his grasp. untouchable. the one place time doesn't exist. now. it's like discrete digital measurement, you take a slice of pi anywhere. you can have it. manipulate it, store the part of it in a register, display it. you take PI... and your digital world dissolves. the largest infinite into a cup and then the cup is... is... is... now. and then he's left in a room by himself with nothing but your smile haunting his memory. but were you there at all. really. everything is happening everywhere at once your filters may not say so, but it is. or wait, it may be time to go check and see if hte sun is still shining.

Gamelan

Maybe the US is one. Then each state another. Then each city. Then each family. You. Then cells in your body. Then molecules. Then then then other way. Each country. Each planet. Each star system. Each galaxy. Each manifest creation.

Sans the Indonesian context.

Discordia and harmony may result. Sin cera. Nos amigos.

Shoshen

The deal is that the people answering the phone don't care. They know as little as you do. They follow scripts. They are watching the clock until they can hang up and go home. Either that or you are talking to someone working from home who is in reality in a bathrobe and slippers and hasn't showered or been outside in days who wants to unmute the television show they watching. They have to listen to their bosses boss occasionally drivel on about teamwork, community, service, loyalty, and respect for customers. None of which they have themselves. That's another story however. What is important is all these people you talk to on the phone don't deserve anything from you but help in getting off the phone as quickly and painlessly as possible. Anything less and you are killing the messenger. That shiny thing is distracting you from the real problem. The real problem is you are a commodity. Eagles, snakes, wolves, they eat lemmings. Companies and corporations eat "consumers". The proof is in your name. It is empowering and exactly not that.

Mate

OY! Odd-toed ungulate! Ophicleides! Orangoutang! Ostrogoth!

Kinda shoulda been scared, except not, as this was tldr.