A Problem with Technology

I don't remember editing anything out of the ordinary, but aparently my imcompetent editing of the template resulted in the blog showing everthing below the tag-line as invisible.

So rather than scroll through lines and lines of code trying to figure out the typo that caused the error, I just set the template in new, and lost my blog-links. Which sucks, but it is a quicker fix than scrolling. The real problem is sometimes the laptop moves the cursor and redirects the text independant of what I'm doing, which is fun in a program like Word, but in an application where the displacement of text is horriffic, well: not good.

Hope I can find them again. They're fun bloggers. I should have just cut and pasted, but I panicked. White screen does that to a person.

Blogs and Counters

I hate visiting a web log for several days straight and absolutely nothing is new about it. I have actually done the same thing, left the blog for days at a time, only to come back and write a few short sentences which neither explain the abscence nor make up for it.

It isn't like anyone is getting paid, like a sitcom blog with promised new episodes at least once a week. But it is almost like getting a reminder; " 'you know, you haven't done anything here or on your webpage yourself' 'I know, I was just looking forward to something.' "

The thing that annoys me most is when the counter on the webpage is still active, but it is just a bunch of people checking back to make sure nothing new has been posted. Maybe we should get an anti-counter, for when you let a page load only to realise there won't be anything for you to do or see. If you back out in the first ten seconds, a little popup comes in as a piece of javascript

- Count? - - Don't Count. -

That way you'd know. Especially where a site has adbanners that actually generate revenue for the website. "Nope, I'm not really here, and you can't count me, because you haven't made anything new or entertaining. You stink."

Year of the Monkey

Another year has gone by, and it will be my birthday in a couple of days. August 3rd, the personalized New Year's Day for me. Nothing has happened that makes me want to make me celebrate. I'm not riddled with accomplishments. I am Jack's angry bile-filled contempt.

That nothing noteworthy has transpired is not the only problem, but it is the most persistent one. I don't think my parents understand when I want to not celebrate my birthday anymore. It isn't just that 18 or 19 really is the cut-off for childish celebration simply for being here, I'll be 28. It isn't just that I feel like a loser. It is more than that, and it is less than that. It just is.

Maybe next year.

---

Weak And Powerless

Tilling my own grave to keep me level
Jam another dragon down the hole
Digging to the rhythm and the echo of a solitary siren
one that pushes me along, and leaves me so

Desperate and ravenous, So weak and powerless, Over you

Someone feed the monkey
while I dig in search of China
White as dracula, As I approach the bottom

Desperate and ravenous, So weak and powerless, Over you

Little angel go away, Come again some other day
The devil has my ear today, I'll never hear a word you say
He promised I would find a little, Solace and some peace of mind
Whatever, just as long as I don't feel so

Desperate and ravenous, So weak and powerless
Desperate and ravenous, So weak and powerless, Over you

- A Perfect Circle, Thirteenth Step

Mind Wiped Clean

The reason why I haven't posted in the last few days, is because everytime I go to write something my mind gets sidetracked. I forget what it was that was so important a few moments ago, and decide if all I can think of is some aimless bitching, then I might as well leave the page blank, and go web-surfing.

I've been writing my novel again, maybe just a novella. What's the cut-off point? I wrote ten pages the day before yesterday, and today while sitting outside at a concrete bench and table, I wrote another six or so. I also took an earlier draft of the first couple of chapters and reread them, giving them a cursory once-over, then editing a few points here and there. It is really coming together.

In ROLLING STONE, Gary Trudeau, the author of Doonesbury was talking about his characters, and the recent changes of one inparticular, B.D. He's lost his leg to the Iraqi conflict, but Trudeau explains that he feels less empathy towards his characters than his audience tends to. To him characters aren't living out their lives in his head, they are tools in a mental box, to be used in order to tell the story.

I don't know if that holds true for most authors, it seems not for someone like George Lucas, and his creations in Star Wars. For me, I let characters go where they will, but like a nervous parent, I feel like I am keeping an eye on them. I don't know if I could write a book like Desperation, and then in the fashion of a Shakespearian play, kill half of my cast even though Stephen King has never had the dificulty of filling ten rolls with five actors.

I might have trouble letting go of a character. Is that bad?

Two Cars in Every Garage

In every home in America, where there are two or more computers in the residence, it typically falls on one individual in that house to repair, maintain, or upgrade those PCs. An IT-dept.-of-one, as some might put it. In my parents' home, whether I lived at home or away, that one-man-maintenance crew was me. Too slow?, need a better processor. Chokes on media files?, might be it needs a better graphics card. The home computer eventually becomes your creation.

Mine started out a Frankensteinian amalgamation of old parts from used computers, but in a few short years...ahck, it became a respectable custom unit. Finally, this year, they allowed the operating system to be upgraded by a friend, and now the software more closely fits the hardware. It is a fairly smooth-running machine, which hums to life quickly and efficiently, without too many worries. Still not absolutely perfect, (I still think it could use a better soundcard), but damn close.

Now my brother's on the other hand, started out a monster, and we are both trying to master its enormous potential. It is and editing station (he designed the requirements, and our very capable friend provided the know-how) with its newest card (a forward-port coaxial-station) which allows the digital camera (professional looking Canon XL1s) to be plugged in to the front.

It is a beast, all said, it allows at least three video outputs, and three in, without including an analog cable-tv port, and at least two seperate audio-ports. A fantastic monolith to technology.

Unfortunately it is not currently without the 'occassional digital hiccup' it is now being worked on over my brother's friend Tony's house. (He runs a nice little side-business of making said custom computers.) But before that my brother asked me to work on it. With no boot disk set, and no O/S disc, and a Stop-Disk error or something at the startup. I'd like to think I'm geek enough to tackle most minor problems, but not without the tools of the trade. That said, I wondered why my older brother blew up at me, when he got home from work. When I explained I couldn't do anything without the proper software, he gave the typical jackass response, 'I knew that."

Well, if he knew that, why the insane reaction to something he was already made aware? More importantly, I don't know either;

• a.) why I bothered. He is usually an ass about his high-tech.-toys.
  
• b.) why I was surprised, I acted out his reaction prior to his arrival home.
  
• c.) why, eventually, I'll help him out again, even with his computer.
  

I've got to be a special kind of idiot.

[incidentally, I almost left the typo- a special king of idiot(s).]

WE TODD DID
I AM SOFA KING
WE TODD DID

Out Applying Again

There is yet another Home Depot opening in the area (Northeastern Massachusetts/ Southern New Hampshire area) and I was there with everyone else applying for a job. Actually five. My preference would be to work in the kitchen-design center. (My preference would be to work in a moderate-sized firm in Cambridge designing partially prefab homes for single family residences. But no one cares.)

But I have some forklift experience, so I checked that off, and I know my way around electricity so I checked off lighting, and let's face it, a job is a job, and if I have to work at (effectively) a hardware store, I'd be remiss to leave out that several jobs I've had include jocking a register.

Ah, there it is, that familiar wave of sensation I get when I feel the urge to fling myself into traffic. It passed.

So, as usual, I hope I get this job. But I hope more that someone gives me a call back and saves me from this fiscal depression. Call it a recession all you want "Bushists", if it lasts four years, it's a depression.

The Grid

My brother and I are ghouls.

We started watching the new TNT mini-series, The Grid. It was well developed. The direction was good, the editing was fantastic, so were the graphics. And in the first five minutes or so, we were laughing so hysterically I thought I was going to dislodge something in my midsection.

We laughed hard. It started as the cigarette ash fell from the mouth of one of the members in the terrorist cell. It continued as the lid on the bio-weapon vial dissolved, and went on right up until after the lucky survivor ran past the rolling baby carriage and the man draped over the wall railing. (Who, I surmise was supposed to have fallen out the hotel room window.)

There was another couple of inappropriate funny moments, but that was the most intense. Mostly because people were dying and I really don’t think the show’s producers intended for there to be hilarity in those moments. I really enjoyed the show overall, and I think I will definitely watch this show again. Hell, before the show ended, I thought I wanted to own the series on DVD.

Not Much Luck

Still annoyed that there is no longer a spellcheck or preview on here. WTF.

I thought I was having a tough time without a spellcheck here, but now I'm having more trouble with my Angelfire webpage than ever. I decided to rewrite my page so it would conform to more concise standards. I restructured the page with some new embedded CSS, and the page (while still simple) looked more uniform, and had an easier feel to it, when editing. (I transferred most of the content from the old index in about 20 minutes.

Unfortunately all did not go well. I'm having issues with layout, and with more than half of the main table just not showing up. (Still there when I move my cursor over it.) Then this morning, when I first opened the page to take a look at it, every graphic and picture of mine had been replaced with a standardized angelfire-logo.
(I left then came back, all was normal again, sort of.)

It's starting to make me think either:

a.) I have no idea what I'm doing. (possible.)

b.) The Terra-Lycos network was being
debugged this weekend. (also possible.)

c.) Both. Also, I'm stupid.

d.) Both, and my computer has a virus again. (acting extremely odd. very possible.)

Red Alert

Where the hell did my Spellcheck tool go? I need it. I can't believe that blogger would intentionally update something to diminish the benefits of this place. Oh well. I just came on here to complain about my own computer illiteracy.

I am trying to teach myself more advanced HTML, as well as Javascripts, XML, and CSS. The Stylesheets are the most difficult to me, because of having to switch back and forth. I can see how it will be easier once I can have three or four different color schemes, and all I have to do is change one link to get them.

Which is good, because I like changing my desktop layout constantly, so I think this will be a good solution.

Better Afternoon

The rest of my day went well. I spent some quality time gluing the pieces of a re-designed model together, (which incidentally was made with the use of my newly refurbished table saw. Previously posted.) My one complaint is that if I had money I would get new glasses. The lenses are scratched after an accidental encounter with blacktop awhile back, and I never got them replaced. It also doesn't help that now a lens keeps popping out, and then I have to get my fingerprints all over it, getting it back in place.

Continued 'exploration' of my design. Will probably photograph and post the project soon, on my other website, which is listed in my profile. Still haven't found the battery pack to the digital camera.

Interview Headed South

My interview did not go as I had planned this morning. For starters, it was not a real interview, it was only a preliminary interview meant as an initial weeding-out process and a chance to collect references. Secondly the person conducting the interview seemed to be pushing for the counter-position. I was hoping for something in the kitchen design center. Instead I received the explanation that there are rarely if ever regular consumer clients, and most often the customers are contractors with tract housing developments consisting of 50 or so houses with about 3 different variations.

"Ah. The devils, who have corrupted and defiled the industry, [of architecture]" I thought. "So there really isn't any design at all, since these things are made from the same set of plans."

While unoriginal, uncreative, and inept construction managers are just trying to squeeze in as much as possible [to increase the sales-price] they put in as little consideration as possible into a solution. [to reduce their costs]"

In any case, I will continue to not work in my field. Even if I get the job at this place, I will be working at the counter of a hardware store. Nothing that requires a bachelor's degree.

I hate interviewing for jobs, it always feels like an older adult is scolding you for being what you are, for example when I interviewed at Zen Associates, it was for a menial laborer's job. Any retard with or without a high-school diploma could do it. The guy in charge of onsite work was one such retard. He'd 'been doing this since he got out of high-school' which means grade twelve is as far as he got. Then he spent the rest of the interview basically rubbing in my face that I went to school and had nothing to show for it.

If I could have that day over again, I would have turned his desk over and called him an asshole. I wasn't naive, but I was still holding back for the hope he was just a typical grunting Neanderthal and this was his low-brow way of saying hello.

Star Wars: Republic

Dark Horse Comics produces stuff that is rarely comic, and more often than not more like the pulp fiction of a different era. Mike Mignola's Hellboy and B.P.R.D., Usagi Yojimbo, and both Star Wars: Empire, and Star Wars: Republic have all been a staple of my monthly and collected graphic novel entertainment.

My hope is that after spending the years invested establishing a new group of characters in the modern mythos of the Star Wars universe, they will see fit to draw to a satisfactory conclusion, their 'lives' as they have been developed in the continued story arc. Particularly Quinlin Vos: a Jedi Knight. In typical fashion of both the graphic novels, and film franchise, Jedi often face the duality of man in themselves. It isn't the enemy in front of them, it's the one inside all of us.

To some extent, they have already explored the conflict of the light side versus the dark side of the force in Vos's life. He seems to have already conquered his demons on several fronts. Ultimately, I think they should let us have our 'happy' ending. Whether Vos is fated to die in the conclusion of the Clone Wars, or later in the 'great jedi purge' that follows, we the reader should be satisfied that Quinlin overcame his fear, defeated his enemies both internal and external, and was at peace with himself when he died. Otherwise it would seem just another regurgitation of the original trilogy.

Western Civilization and the Modern Work Ethic: Part 2.

Francis Fukuyama is his book The End of History and the Last Man, defines work through Traditional Liberal Economic Theory. And while he moves on to explain other views for his purposes, this portion says;

Work is an essentially unpleasant activity undertaken for the sake of the utility of the things created by work. [He also says] Man will remain at work for as long as he calculates its benefits outweigh the unpleasantness of being there. [paraphrased]

His argument tries to break down this logical progression by providing the alternate example of a "type-A" personality, with tendencies towards being a workaholic. A rational calculation of endurance versus gain does not explain everyone's work ethic. I think in a truly larger scheme however, it does.

His argument persists that benefit and leisure do not accumulate in direct proportion to the rate at which some people demand of themselves. Their 'work ethic' is incalculable. He goes on, and on, and on...The book never stops.

Fortunately I do. My point is simple. There are individuals that work themselves to death for the self-decided noble pursuit of a high standard of hard work. These people do destroy their own lives and health, and their benefits are not corollary. These people should not be the norm, they are instead, the aberration.

CEOs and CFOs and all the other higher-ups in a multi-national corporate entity don't work for an insubstantial amount of return. When one of these creatures 'gives up' their Saturdays, or puts in 12 hour work days, they have ulterior motives, and let's face it, their labor is inconsequential compared to the exertions of someone below them. Even if you (as the outsider) don't see the direct connection between their effort and their stability, it is there.

When a corporation exists, it is still and always only comprised of individuals, and it is those people, not a faceless entity, which reap the rewards of others' hard work. Time and again, their practices are deemed legal. Ken Lay being led away in cuffs is (again) the aberration, not the norm. It doesn't take away everyone else's culpability.

We the People, [workers, employees, underlings, fodder]
in order to maintain our standards, our morals, and our ethics often push ourselves to succeed beyond the promise of accumulation of wealth. Every time one of us works our person into poor health, or struggles with our finances while our efforts create immeasurable wealth for our bosses, a crime is committed.

Antique Craftsman

Today was a pretty good day. I had known there was an old table saw in my basement for years. I hadn't seen it in operation for the better part of two decades, and I wasn't even sure it still worked. After giving it a good dusting with a clean paintbrush, I saw the metallic product ID tag, and old-fashioned company emblem.

It was an antique Craftsman table saw set onto what looked like a custom stand and wired with an extra set of sockets. One of its interesting features, was the hardwired switch connected to a socket, which meant it needed a double-male power chord. It was nowhere to be found. So I took the chord from a broken jigsaw, and a wall switch, and spent part of my morning rewiring it.

I didn't use the old socket, so the spare pair on the other side of the frame wasn't rewired, but the machine worked. Then I replaced the grinding wheel with a blade meant for cutting plywood and veneer, and replaced the rubber belt with a new one from AutoZone. (Visiting four different stores beforehand, including Sears. I only mention that store because they are advertised on television as being Craftsman brand dealers, their store was filled with woodshop equipment, no replacement parts.)

I now have a nice little table saw, quiet as well. Perfect for cutting the scaled plywood for models that I like. My Dad helped. He too was into one of his around-the-house projects, and he stopped building his natural-stone masonry retaining wall in the front yard, long enough to visit the stores with me. So in conclusion; I hate being told to contact the manufacturer for something so simple, but it didn't ruin my day, because I liked having the opportunity to fix something.

Wasted Wednesday

Played with a digital camera, with a floppy-drive. Finally as I managed to adjust the settings to how I liked them, just as I was feeling comfortable with it, the battery died. (I can't find the directions.) Now I need to find the charger and extra battery, before I can do anything with it.

Played video games this morning. Final Fantasy IX. In the middle of playing I was interrupted by my cat Moses playing a game of his own. Ferocious feral killer kitty.

Moses V. Chipmunk. I caught it once, when it escaped behind the dining room server, then twice when I grabbed the cat by the shoulders and shook him to drop it. Both times the rodent (appearing unharmed) ran to safety, by running away from the basket, attempting to outrun the cat. Finally Moses ran into the basement clutching the chipmunk in his jaws to claim his prize. For those of you that can't guess, when the game is over he finishes by biting the critter's head off. Proof again of the order of the food chain, "good riddance," I said. (Productive morning.)

St. Anger

I won't publish much more than this. This day was horrible. I just want to remember today, but it isn't Independence Day for me.

I want to say more than that, but I wouldn't feel comfortable putting that much out in the open. It is enough to say that this song perfectly sums up what I'm thinking.

saint anger 'round my neck, saint anger 'round my neck,
he never gets respect, saint anger 'round my neck.

f*** it all and no regrets, I hit the lights on these dark sets,
I need a voice to let myself, to let myself go free,

put down your noose, I'll hang myself, st. anger 'round my neck

I feel my world shake, like an earthquake, hard to see clear, is it me, is it fear.

I'm madly in anger with you, I'm madly in anger with you, madly in anger with you...

-Metallica

Problems with Publishing

I've been having difficulty viewing mine and other pages here on Blogger.com today. It seem every time I try to load the main page of a blog, I have to hit Reload/Refresh a couple of times to get the page to actually show. More weekend traffic, maybe?

In any case, it is still easier to update here, than on Angelfire, because there even when previewing the page, you have to close an ad window. Annoying.

Moving Day, This Way Comes

Music:

Nickleback; The Long Road. 3. Someday
The Ataris; So Long Astoria. 3. In This Diary
Good Charlotte; The Young and the Hopeless.
12. The Young and the Hopeless.

I am helping my younger brother and his wife move out into their own apartment. I'll probably post several short messages this weekend. Not that I'll have anything worthwhile, but I'll feel like commenting on the events of the next couple of days.

The most witless thing I've ever heard: waiting until the Fourth of July weekend to move, then working Saturday morning while your brothers help move your things, and the rental truck isn't coming to 1:00 PM, (by the way it is 1:30 on Saturday as I finish this post) and the truck hasn't been here yet.

So good thing my older brother owns a pick-up. It is only a Ford Ranger, so it is smaller than a F-150. This day has been hot and sweaty in that annoying I-wish-I-was-somewhere-else way. We moved a bedroom set, an entertainment center, some kind of spice-rack/cabinet, and a decent number of boxes. Next up, large Sterilite (like Tupperware) boxes filled with their clothes. Good thing my father has taken over, as he would say; "they have no game plan."

Amendment to this blog post: The moving truck never showed, the aunt who was arranging the truck was actually getting it for herself, and needed to go to the Springfield area. She was in the middle of Massachusetts, and we ended up using all our smaller vehicles to make the move. She's a real giver.

Music as Medication

-Take Two Tracks and call me in the morning.

Sometimes music (real music) feels like it is influential enough to dictate the course of events around it. At least alter the moods of the people listening, and therefore the actions of those individuals, and vice versa. The current mood could also be held responsible for the musical selection.

For Example:

Two days ago: Depression.
Musical Selection: Disturbed, Metallica.
Yesterday: Not so much.
Musical Selection: Incubus, Bush.
Today: Not Bad.
Musical Selection: Zwan, Vertical Horizon.

I have often heard of the comparisons of music to architecture.
I have even heard a similar argument made that architecture influences people's behavior. Buildings are bound to steer the course of action of the people inside them. Maybe that is the failure of a place like a state hospital, [Danvers] designed in a Gothic Revival style, or the unplanned success of another building.

Maybe for the same reason that is why so many stories of heroism came from the World Trade Center, a structure built to be the ultimate expression in open form design. (The Core and the exterior walls were the structure. It leaves a very open floor plan.) My point is that a person would feel more attached to his co-workers if he looked at them on a daily basis, which this floorplan allowed.

In any case; I feel better mentally today, than I did a few days ago, and better physically, than I did a week ago.