inquiry

whatever comes to mind

New benefits providers at work, complete with a stereotypical-used-car-salesperson-ish spiel this morning.

Got back with some recording equipment today. Fun – which I'm finding proportional to not giving too much of a shit.

Which.. huh.. I guess write.as is “recording equipment” too....?

Have you ever wake up with a voice inside your head telling you that you deserve to die because you are useless?

No. It's always been a woman outside my head telling me that.

That is me. Almost every single day. That voice is what glued me on my bed for days. That voice is the reason my life sometimes is a living hell.

Thoughts, all thoughts.

So if you never wake up with a voice inside your head telling you mean things, be grateful. For some people, it is a peace of mind that we have to fight for every single day.

The only peace of mind is in zero piece of mind.

            reflection
          is all this is
              *all*
        including the "is"
         moon in a puddle
          gimme a scoop
             'o that

... okay... probably not really. ;–)

This post's title more reflects how this here offering from excerpts puts something close to my heart so waaaaaaaaaaay better than I've ever been able to – so much so that I suspect it'll be a long time before I can close my jaw again for it having fallen so far open.

Nothing too unusual to report. It's 12F outside, windy, sunny. Strange contrast of snow and there still being green leaves on some trees.

Not that anyone would know about it for it taking place in The Void, but I've been whining about the seeming lack of interestingness on “the web”, so of course a couple extremely promising nuggets in the direction of interestingness fell from the sky the last couple days. Gosh, how quickly the phrase “I've been wrong before” gets tiring, right?

And I really miss a few seemingly former participants in these parts.

But, well, I suppose I'd be gone too had I not hit on finding a strange sort of fulfillment in commenting on the absence of fulfillment. Go figure, right?

But, then, is anything not possible in mind?

For all the proverbial bells and whistles augmenting what once was so simple a web, I can't say any garden – walled or otherwise – therein has ever provided a space exceeding the joy I experienced in the likes of USENET, IRC, and even late 1980s local BBSes (I can still see the lights of my 1200 Baud modem, still hear its sonic handshake orgasms: oh... Oh... OHHH.... OHHHHHHHHH.. I'M... I'M... I'M CONN...NEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH...CTINNNNNNNNNNNG!!!!!!).

And not because those technologies were particularly fun. No! In fact, I perfected the pronunciation of many a curse word fighting with the protocols, utilities, and applications defining the surface of such environments.

Turns out that struggle also guaranteed a high(er) intelligence entry fee to such spaces – and, thus, the likelihood of finding an interactive paradise on the other side.

That's why I read articles about how “we” just need this kind of infrastructure and/or that kind of post-melding whatever, and the ensuing eye-rolling quickly becomes world class.

But I can understand why developer types get hard over such never-quite-satisfying toy-age.

I've seen the promised land, and it was attainable on a regular basis in unadulterated 7-bit ASCII – and, furthermore, was so good it was worth waiting for, e.g. waiting one's turn to be the next to sign into a BBS, waiting for USENET server propagations...

... as starkly opposed, say, to instantaneous YiB of, well, what you get when you lower the bar of access/participation such that any idiot mingle.

'Tis a day demanding haste – which has me wondering about the possibility of predestined waste.

And yet was the path so incredibly clear last night....

No idea what to make of this ribbonfarm “place”. Looks smart and fun, yet has me feeling a bit inadequate in participatory senses.

I wound up there while trying to figure out what a “blogchain” was (due to someone having dropped that term in a write.as post).

It's still unclear. Best I could tell was it's a sequence of posts roughly the same in length about roughly the same topic.

But, you know, bigger time infrastructure dreamers in these parts likely have a better definition/view.

I just hope they visit The Void from time to time....

But the velocity of words have gotten to a point where “time and accident” reenter in ways unforeseen by Jefferson or his contemporaries. “Time and accident” now amounts to writing so much that what you are searching for is lost in the tonnage you've amassed on the web. All of the polygraphic tendencies in the world cannot help when we fall under the weight of our own words. It only makes it worse – just another straw on the camel's back.

People choke on the chaff of their own cognition as it is, so of course there's going to be cognitive body count in, on, and around the altar to the integral of minds from one to <number of participants>.

It makes me wonder if the approach to proliferation has to be reconsidered. Do we need to scale back? Focus on a smaller oeuvre that we develop over time? Maybe a post that consistently grows into a longer essay?

“We”?

In case you haven't noticed, there's no place where the phrase “shit happens” comes more into its own than online.

So there will be no agreement, no consistency, no all for one and one for all, etc., etc., because that requires an animal we're not.

Now.. it could be accomplished for subsets of participants that, um, “have a brain in their head”, but good luck establishing such in times where anything short of letting everyone shit all over each other leads to screams of “privilege”....

Or do we need to throw caution to the wind and write, focusing on developing ideas that branch out and proliferate to others who take it and run wild? Do we need a url on an idea for it to inform our worldview?

Again, there's no “we”. Hell, it's a miracle the ego typing this even knows how to spell a word so utterly foreign to its nature....

IN CONCLUSION: It turns out that what was possible before The Eternal September isn't after.

The essence of “news” these days seems to be what I want to call “circling the nanny nanny boo-boo drain”.

In other words: shaming.

Which, well, I mean, if you're trying to influence behavior, I suppose it can work. Maybe.

Nah. Probably not – or not when the recipients are similarly inflammable egos, at any rate.

What's ironic about it to me when coming from “progressive” spaces is I remember a time when “progressives” were perpetually up in arms about “conservatives” being such killjoys ever on the verge of manifesting fits of self-righteousness. Even back then did “progressives” seemingly consider themselves “woke” above and beyond “conservative” tendencies to be concerned with Right/Wrong – at least to what “progressives” felt was “to a fault”. But they mostly rolled their eyes followed by winks/smiles to each other, indicating how glad they were to be so “above it all” for realizing how silly all that ridiculous (especially when religious) righteousness crap is/was.

Oddly, though, these days I swear I'm far and away seeing more of that kind of high and mighty behavior spurting from “progressive” egos.

Perhaps such is yet another case of people becoming what/who they hate?

So far it's one of those days where the rest of this instance of world may very well have been absorbed into any of its parallels.

Which, well, last night I was kind of thinking of how the world would collapse were it drained of the notion of time.

Would it disintegrate from the inside out? The outside in? Sporadically?

(As a matter of fact I am picturing it a bit like Marty's photographs in “Back to the Future”.)

The first snow of the season is in progress in these parts, somehow bringing to mind a coin whose opposite sides are labeled 'tedious' and 'beautiful', spinning in unpredictable ways – sometimes a blur, others a breath-altering wobble.

Weekly organizational meeting in six minutes, and oh crap one of the fasteners from my game face just broke....