September 2nd, 2007

Some random, brightly colored, discarded paintings being crushed by a big, green dumpster

I was riding home from work on the bus the other day, when a fellow bus-rider commented that he only felt secure in his existence when he's creating something. At the time, I said something back about feeling pretty good when I'm having a beer.

I think it's an interesting subject, because I don't hear about people describing the percentage of time they spend consuming and the time they spend creating. I think it's important to value both, since without people to consume your work, the creator is stuck in a closed cycle, consuming his own creation. Um, like a snake eating its own tail (ew...).

In my mind, there's a simple way to look at this, and it's through human communication. Every time we open our mouths to speak, we're creating. Every time we hear something, we're consuming. In this sense, our creations, whether they are substantial, like paintings or circuit schematics, or minor, like idle bullshitting, all get entered into a great, big, human interplay.

Actually, if you think more about the mouth, it's an interesting orifice that creates speech (or at least passes it out of the body) and also consumes food (passes it into the body). What would a person eating their own speech look like?

Okay, forget that last bit. What I was really trying to say before I got distracted, is that mankind's purpose is communication with each other. We are things that take input and create output. We react to our environment and our friends, family and acquaintances. Our reactions take the form of art, discussion, work, and play. We can't have reactions without reactants, and vice versa.

Honestly, I think that sums us up pretty well. It sums up all life pretty well. But I don't see people commonly making the connection between how much beer they drink and how much they paint and how that's pretty much our purpose.

August 26th, 2007

A pile of ice that we threw into the grass outside our apartment. It was taking up space inside our fridge for about two months.

Mindy cruelly threw me into a TV show called Heroes last week. We've seen every episode already. I'm having withdrawal... like, a-good-book-just-ended withdrawal.

How can this be? It's a TV show that my brain is telling me is as good as a book. Something's wrong here. It must be because it's half TV show and half comic.

TV shows have never really understood the concept of "badass". That's where the heavy comic book influence paid off. I hope it lasts, though.

I think the experimental phase that each hero progresses through in "Heroes" is where you see the purest badass. Once we're used to what they are capable of, I'm worried that the series will lose its potency.

In any case, I can't stop thinking about this show and I hope it finds some way to sustain that "Wow, look what I can do" sense of child-like wonder. The only feeling that's worse than when a good book ends, is when a good book just dies.

August 5th, 2007

The gnome that I got Mindy for Valentine's day is guarding the many empty beer bottles that accumulated while she was in Rome.

I was trying to get my Wii to talk to someone else's Wii today, and it wasn't working for shit. Mindy managed to uncover the secret handshake that made the magic happen. For the benefit of future generations, I would like to record the solution here, in the hopes that it eases someone's pain.

After you have gotten your Wii set up for internet and have added your friend's Wii code to your address book, you may have discovered that the option to "send message" (while in the address book, for example), remains dimmed despite your best efforts. Well, there's one thing you haven't tried yet...

You need to reconnect your Wii Remote.

To do this, press the home button on the Wii Remote, then click on "Wii Remote Settings" at the bottom of the screen, and finally, click "Reconnect".

What the hell.

February 19th, 2005

This is the cylindrical black thing that sticks out of the ground next to the apartment building in front of us. It's sunny outside, so everything is bright and cheery, even the black thing.

...Well actually, it's after 1:00 PM, but for some of us, this is morning.

Last night, I was riding the bus home, which happens a lot, and letting ideas run through my mind. This is how everyone must be, because most people were sitting like I was, staring at nothing to save themselves from having to put their eyes somewhere.

Usually, when I'm on the bus, I'm listing to music. So the wandering ideas tend to manifest as a music video. I'm sitting on this bus, directing a music video, and most of it is projected outside the windows.

Oddly enough, the music video typically begins with me sitting at the back of the bus and holding my skateboard, which I wouldn't normally need to have on the bus. But I have it anyway, and I place it on the ground and wait for the bus to stop, leaving me with the momentum to carry me down the aisle, between the seats, and out the front windshield.

Badass, I know. From here, I'm usually not in the music video anymore and things get more interesting. What happens depends on the music, of course, but the video generally continues over a few songs, with each different song pushing the plot and mood in a different direction. Good stuff, if you could only see it.

Last night, I wasn't listening to music, so there were no music videos. I wrote a short story. Not on paper, because that would require activity, which isn't allowed on a bus. But I've since forgotten the short story, which was the greatest ever, as were the music videos, because I didn't write them down or record them or something. It's like a dream, duh.

Moving on, Mindy's soft tummy is soooo wonderful!

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