started keeping a physical diary. better to do more personal writing where it’s not stored on some anonymous server; i have much more faith in the longevity of paper than i do in these information networks we’ve collectively decided to run the entire world with. well, it wasn’t exactly a collective decision, it was forced upon everyone in a fait accompli by the ruling technocratic archons of the aeon, but as with most archontic fait accomplis, everyone pretty much falls in line because what else is there to do.
i also sense that keeping track of what’s going on with me will be important in the coming months and years. there’s nothing specific on the horizon, but something in the air, a certain cast of light from the setting sun. change is a-coming.
a refrain i’ve encountered a few times online is that americans are woefully ill-equipped for the times we’re living in, which begs the question, what times are we living in exactly? a time when no one uses the phrase “begs the question” for its original meaning? birds of prey circle overhead. the wind shifts directions. the kids look up from their phones, if only for a minute. what’s in store for us? if there’s hell below, are we all gonna go?
seriously though, i’m worried. and possibly thrilled. like when jack nicholson met diane keaton, something’s gotta give.
catching up on the NBA.
working on a story about a crazy dude i helped at the library a while back who thinks a medical device he had implanted is actually a sentient AI that’s taken over control of his body. but he also hacked it because he saw the doctors input the device’s password. interesting to note that even though a person playing my “part” in the scenario is in the story, the crazy person protagonist is the primary site of personal, though kabbalistic, identification for me.
thinking a lot about the feedback my boss gave me on the other story, especially notes to (eye roll here) “show don’t tell,” and to “put some emotion into it.” the fact that he so often irritates me means there’s something for me to learn.
reading sorrows of young werther for the first time. thinking about how romanticism and hopeless infatuation are related to german fanaticism and fascism. seems significant that emo music became a mainstream force in pop during the highly jingoistic, imperialistic Bush era.
myself, i’m craving strange.
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