Tuesday September 28th 2004, 10:32 am
Filed under: TPT the First Tags:

I always seem to have an abundance of words to hand, to mouth, when they don’t really matter. Not just here, or academic prose, but with people. I can flirt, shoot the shit, shoot the breeze, bullshit, bang on about nothing, talk bollocks, talk shite, talk over talk through talk about, go on and on. People who know me know this. And, on the whole, it’s not a bad thing. I thought I had words for when it mattered, too. Comforting friends, making plans, offering insight and advice and hope in darkness. But for all the words words words I really didn’t have any to offer yesterday. A close friend’s mother died, and the words were not there, nor did they matter. I can’t share your grief or pain, I can’t offer comfort or sympathy or empathy that means in the way words, ever so rarely, actually can.

A man of words, my friend. He writes them and reads them and lives them. Not the easiest way to live a life, being open to the unchecked powers of poetry and music, of meanings that begin in your head but echo through your soul. And, now, what words might there be that can touch the fact that she’s not here. A man of complicated faith, my friend. But faith in the forge of your now might be anything. I can’t offer words that mean enough, couldn’t say things that could have been real enough. Don’t think I have them. But it’s not about me, or the insufficiency. Beneath the absence of words, quieter than the howls and the storms but not entirely silent, there is something. If you can, take it. It’s yours, however and whenever.

Monday September 27th 2004, 11:15 am
Filed under: TPT the First Derivative Tags:

From last Friday’s London News Review email-shot. They’re sick, but that’s why I love ’em: This week’s issue is dedicated to possibly-alive, possibly-dead British hostage Kenneth Bigley: the modern day equivalent of
Schr [edit, Sept. 2008. I assume it read “Schroedinger’s Cat”. On the other hand, the unclosed italics tag means everything below is italicized, which just ain’t right]

black and white
Wednesday September 22nd 2004, 7:40 pm
Filed under: TPT the First Tags:

May be getting sick. Bad. Almost done. Good. Very very tired. Bad. Surprisingly cheerful. Good. On-campus reindeer breeding programmes. Bad. New York. Good. (Oh wait, that went and fucking dissolved my neat categories. Well, NY is good, but it’s complicated, you see. Sigh. Nevermind.) Lung capacity of a chipmunk from over-smoking. Bad. Orange food and beverage to stave off illness. Good. Friends. Good. The Ex. Bad.

Bad, Me. Very naughty. Off to go imbibe orange beverages and cook an orange dinner, and then go back to my thankfully non-orange work. Smoke. Good…

damn and blast
Wednesday September 22nd 2004, 11:03 am
Filed under: TPT the First Links Tags:

Saturday September 18th 2004, 4:09 pm
Filed under: TPT the First Tags:

…beyond power of speech. Or not. Just sick sick sick of it. So close and yet so far. Was going stir crazy, a day in working, so have gone for a brief walk, only to find myself here. The almost uninterrupted positive ‘tude, big silly grin, beginning to fray a bit, to show signs of fading around the edges. Who ever woulda thunk I’d finish this damn thing cheerful? I certainly never did. That said, grrr. So little actual writing left to do, so little substantive work, even; so close to i-crossing, t-dotting mixups and cleanups. But SO farking desparate for distractions. Not that I haven’t availed myself of them. But that whole ’10 days’ thing, well, discipline discipline. The simple act, requiring heroic farking strength and self-control, of Keeping My Ass In My Chair At My Desk(tm). A time-honoured solution for getting things done. And one, of course, I’m in the midst of violating.

Euthanize me. Or, better, euthanize it. Shoot this puppy, put it down, out of its misery, printed and bound and submitted. Maybe I need to re-think it in those terms. Hmmmm.

Rosh Hahaha
Friday September 17th 2004, 10:44 am
Filed under: TPT the First Links Tags:

chaos theory
Thursday September 16th 2004, 6:28 pm
Filed under: TPT the First Tags:

Ah,the places I haven’t yet gone. A mad mad mad week. Final meeting with the supervisor not only a rubber stamp but actual approval. The possibility of an IT job landing in my lap on the same day, and other many postives, had me in the rather improbable (oops, there it is) happy relaxed and highly productive. Plus Puppy Shooting on Monday night. So all was rocking and rolling. But today, when trying to set up being able to check out the job list – officially posted tomorrow – I instead found myself reading the damn thing. Perhaps not final, but there it is. And fuck’n ‘ell has it sent me for a spin. I suddenly, despite a friend’s calm observation that I knew this was the game all along, was deeply angry at the lottery of life that is this game. Friends in Pennsylvania and Missouri now; but if I put in for the Fairbanks, Alaska, job, who’s gonna come visit? Angry angry about the lack of self determination, for some reason, just at the cusp of a life when it seemed I was taking control. Settled down a bit, only to receive a call from an IT recruiter, wanting to try and get me work for a job much like that I left ALL those farking years ago to come to the big O X in the first place. And yet, again, it sounded all too sweet in all too many ways. Plus it’s conveniently located. So. With all that rubbish spewed on the screen, I’m now off to do the only sensible thing for a man with two weeks left (to the day) to finish, but in surprisingly good shape as far as those two weeks go: drink. drink heavily, abundantly, and with good friends.

Tuesday September 14th 2004, 9:12 am
Filed under: TPT the First Tags:

A friend preparing to move to Africa dropped off a bunch of books of mine that have been residing at his house for a while. Largely as I was living there for a while. So relics, really, of the past 11 months. And now duly arranged on the shelves here , built-ins in the entryway sitting room. Admittedly, I remain perversely fond of the eclecticism of what’s there. But more striking was my annoyance, this morning, that my monastic, existential minimalism had been compromised over the lsat year, as belongings in the form of reading material had insinuated themselves into my life.

Then I remembered. I didn’t come here to live a monastic existence. I came to get away, sort my shit out, and finish. Finishing is on. (is it on? it’s on.). And so is sorting my shit out. I actually fucking think I’m there. Took farking enough, but perhaps it always had to be done in the same way things started, lived, and faded: drawn out over time and distance. And not only that, I got another 5 or so hours of work done at that point (16 hour day. yuck). Anyway, It ain’t about the stuff. It’s about me, and it’s good.

A hard habit to break
Monday September 13th 2004, 11:10 am
Filed under: TPT the First Tags:

Work work work work work. Final complete chapter in (boo-ya), meet with the supervisor tomorrow, plus run around Ox libraries. Quotation checking and editing – the dotting of ‘i’s and crossing of ‘t’s promises somehow to be more hellish than the writing has been. Not to mention intro, conclusion, and abstract. But that’s how the game is played. Huh? More like that’s what’s left to be done. 2 weeks and 2 days, and I’ve gone from the feeling that there couldn’t possibly be enough time to ‘sheeeit’, this is gonna suck, but ain’t so bad. Theoretically, I suppose, I could just bung out the last bits of required prose and get it in by Friday. No style points, then, however, which apparently is what I’m really aiming for in life. And my thanks to the young lady yesterday who pointed out that, although it was all good in most ways, there were a few places I needed to sort my shit out in a big way. Not that you read this (thank god) but it makes it all the more satisfying, for once, to write something to someone who’s not gonna see it.

Thursday September 09th 2004, 7:55 pm
Filed under: TPT the First Tags:

def. 1) Engaged in activity, as work; occupied. 2) Sustaining much activity. That’s me, folks. Gonna be quiet here for a bit; 3 weeks, plus a few days and hangovers after that. There may be the odd posting, but ya know? I’ve got work to do. Big heaping shiteloads of it. Anon…