This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 License.                             the guys: philogynist jaime tony - the gals:raymi raspil

        20051023   

Michael considered fate at 02:19   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment
I don't surf the blogosphere much. I rarely check out new blogs. I hardly ever read more than the three or four I read on a daily. Occasionally, I'll even go days without reading a single one.. which is probably the second reason why I don't have any readers - I'm really not much of a participatory kind of guy. I don't comment much, I barely ever link, and I still don't really know what those trackbacks are (I jest). Basically, I'm not so cut out for this type of viral-media, or whatever hip lingo you feel like using to describe it.

Nevertheless, in the little wandering I have done around town lately, I have been running across an inordinate amount of blog posts regarding catholic guilt and/or other extreme instances of self-questioning. It's like everyone thinks they have some amazing existensial piece of religion-philosophy fusion literature in them; a "God? Is that you?" in them.. or "What time is it really, God?" or even a snarky "God, turn the damn lights back on!"

Luckily, I'm semi-charmed so I don't have that problem. I've just spent my last few days wondering why some complete stranger changed my yahoo email password, instead. I've been pacing around wondering what they could possibly want with all those old emails - silly crap written to old girlfriends, party plans, directions to people's houses - what could they possibly want with this shit? It's a hassle, no doubt, but I call it semi-charmed cause in the end it's a walk in the park compared to some internal guilt mechanism that makes me feel bad for having sex before marriage.

The sort of books I have in me have little to do with God, religion, or genetic cloning. I like to avoid the big controversies since it's obvious nobody can agree on them - what's the point, really? The sort of book I think I might be able to write has a lot of wry humour in it, and some pumpernickle too. Dumb stories that go nowhere but leave you hanging, wanting more. Good thought-provokers that are just long enough to get you hooked and then leave you floating, alone, to make up your own stories in order to fill in the gaps. Interactive shorts that trick the mind into participating. Too much of life is watching other people live so I like to look inward and stretch the mind in the opposite direction as much as possible.

Course I'm not saying I have a book in me. I'm not saying I have anything worthwhile to say. I'm not saying anything, really. I'm Just typing words as they come to me, pushing little white buttons with letters on them repeatedly, until words and then sentences spill onto the screen in some sort of coherency. I don't really think that adds up to a book, in the end, but what do I know. A lot of crap gets published these days.

Then again I'd probably end up writing a heaping pile of steaming dogshit about some girl somewhere who broke my heart and how if only she saw the light I could solve world hunger with her love, bring world peace to everyone. A real page turner that would be. Maybe I could hire an illustrator.. some people read books for the pictures, right?


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Check out heroecs, the robotics team competition website of my old supervisor's daughter. Fun stuff!
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