[ R A N T S ]

____________
[ 12.24.01 ]
[   FUCK   ]

1930

Seven thirty PM, for those that could never descramble the 4 digit times
I stamp onto my postings.

I just received word that the venerable Sinster has passed away.
Known more commonly Jon Paul Nollman, he moved onward yesterday, Sunday, 
after being struck by a car.

I am truly saddend be this.  Truly, truly saddened by this.  Of all the
insults and injuries that 2001 has thrown at me, this is far, by far the
freaking worst of all.

He was a mind to be reckoned with, if nothing else.  They say that a man
who represents himself in court has a fool for a client.  While I tend to
agree with this, JP (as he was gracious enough to let me call him) always
stood his ground on his own in the face of the legal system.  So far as I
recall him saying, he also never lost.

This simple fact represents a common theme throught his life.  As SDeath
so aptly put it, he lived his life by his own terms.  Not many can honestly
claim that.  I know plenty who would be inclined to claim such, but they
are often the furthest from this truth.

SDeath, Sinster and myself were commonly collectively referred to as
The Flammable Trinity.  The Trinity, sadly, is no more.  I am rather certain
at this point that SDeath and I will not continue on as The Flammable Duo,
nor will be we auditioning or inducting a new third party.  The severed
portion of the triumvirate is not a replacable item.  Jon Paul's shoes
cannot be filled on any list or in life itself.

I can't lavish enough praise on him, or his memory.  While we often did not
see eye to eye on matters, we had a great mutual respect for each other as
well.  I can't think of many minds in this world that compare with his.

I honestly feel the world will never know the greatness that it has lost.

Expect possibly more on this from me over the next few days.


-----

[  RANDOM  ]

1202

"Too much self awareness is a bad thing".  --Me (among I'm sure many
others have all independantly arrived at that conclusion.)

The soul I lost during that week did not ever return; I am a machine now, years later; a machine heard the news of John Lennon's death and a machine grieved and pondered and drove to Sausalito [...], because that is what a machine does: that is a machine's way of greeting the horrible. A machine doesn't know any better; it simply grinds along, and maybe whirrs. That is all it can do. You cannot expect more than that from a machine. That is all it has to offer. That is why we speak of it as a machine; it understands, intellectually, but there is not understanding in its heart because its heart is a mechanical one, designed to act as a pump.

And so it pumps, and so the machine limps and coasts on, and knows but does not know. And keeps up its routine. [...] Life it once possessed and now has lost; a life now gone. It knows it knows not what, as the philosophy books say about a confused philosopher; I forget which one.

  -Philip K. Dick, The Transmigration of Timothy Archer

Spent a good portion of my half-day out of work talking with Rich.

Arrived at the conclusion I stated up top there.  The text immediately 
above, borrowed from Dick, is part of the thought process of a character 
who is self-defined, within the book, as being a "professional" student.  
Adult, long attending Cal Berkeley, but never fully severing the cord and 
moving on.  Reminds me to some large degree of my ex's mother, who was so 
bent on literature and whatnot that her entire life circled around it.  
Blissful in her little bubble.  Somehow, tho, my little bubble seems more 
to stifle than elate, more to suffocate than nurture and protect.

Maybe it's not because I'm some self-fancied intellectual who sits around
with other like-minded and self-fancied intellectuals endlessly "talking"
about things, when in reality the "talking" is little more than the 
regurgitation of works, concepts, studies, and outputs of people long 
past and far superior mentally.

Maybe I don't have a mental drug that I can induce and loop ad naseum until
I feel some synthetic enlightenment.

Maybe my vision is my down.  Maybe the reality that I see is what chokes 
me so.  I had always cherished my insight and my views and visions.  When
I see people of all social, economic, and educational strata wandering
around blind and ignorant, I can't help but feel that I am slightly more
sharply attuned to my surroundings, that I am seeing and experiencing much
more than they are.  And, I am.  It's blatantly obvious by their actions
and words that they're largely clueless to most anything going on around
them.  So, again I say, maybe my vision is my down.

I don't know, I can't say; no one can.  Talking to Rich I realize, 
not so much "realize", as none of this is any groundbreaking revelation 
for me, but more of an admission, finally having opportunity to vocalize 
it to a proper, respectful and intelligent audience... I realize I feel 
stagnant.  I feel like one of those nifty desktop items with the single 
magnetic cone with levitates over its polar opposite magnetic base.  I 
feel a state of suspension, bitter, ugly, cold and stagnating suspension.  
I feel the need to break free, but not only not knowing which direction to 
break for but also which way to break for it.  I feel as tho I teter on the 
thin yet fuzzy border between those two neighbors, madness and genius.

Genius would at least allow me to realize that I have some untapped potential
that I *am* sitting on, and madness would at least free me from the weight
of awareness that has been breaking my back and draining me mentally and
physically for so long now.

Otherwise, I really *really* need to stop thinking so fucking much.
Meditation and breathing doesn't work.  Rigorous and painful physicaly
activity doesn't do it.  I'm about to just start killing off fucking
braincells just to see if it slows me down any at all.

-----

[  HUMOUR  ]

0435

In addition to reznor::dot::com's holiday wishes for you, I'd
like to personally offer you the following:



____________
[ 12.21.01 ]
[  RANDOM  ]

2352

The time has come to *rest*.  I've been home most every day this
week, but I haven't slept in my bed - gotten my now-usual 12-16
hours of sleep - since I don't know when.  Two days?  Three?  I've
driven my boss' yacht for him three nights this week, and tho I was
trying to live on a day schedule for these events, I found my body 
reverting back to graveyard hours wether I wanted it to or not.

The days I drove for him, cold and even partially rained on returning
on Thursday, I slept on the boat, only stopping home in the wee hours 
to shower and grab clean clothing.  Dunno how I'll take to sleeping
in a large, stable, fixed bed.  Today, to note, was awesome.  Briskly
chilly, water lapping against the hull, and a light rain coming down
onto the deck just above my head.

He's left me to hang on to the key to the boat.  I think I may be 
winding up being custodian of it.  Can't complain.  Not too big, not
too small, and twin 454's under the deck ;)

There's one ship in particular that I love seeing every year in the
boat parade; I'll try to fetch pix off my camera in the next day or two,
if I wake up any time soon...


____________
[ 12.18.01 ]
[  RANDOM  ]

1952

OK, so, I must apologize, as I found out as I so tactfully put
it exactly "who the fuck" *is* at Denmac and paying attention
to me.

Next up, who the fuck is at eircom.net in Ireland and paying such
attention to me and the garbage I spoon out here and there....

So, due to boating this week my sleep is all whacked.  I think
I'm going to attempt to take just about every damn test The Spark
has to offer this evening.

In the mean time, choke on this, pal:

http://www.iqtest.com/view/iqtest/options/011218/10087337135770


____________
[ 12.17.01 ]
[  RANDOM  ]

2327

Just got home from piloting Bossman's yacht around the harbour for a
few hours.  Funny, everyone was bitching about the cold but me....
Guessing it had something to do with me wearing more layers than them,
and also me realizing that the air out on the water was warmer than
what I've been experiencing, since I've been having to commute to
work on the R1100S for the past week (rain included) since I'm by and
large car-less for the time being.

Found out yesterday, or Sunday, whichever day Sunday was, that I was
driving tonight.  I knew I'd be doing it later in the week, but tonight
wasn't originally planned on.

Fun time regardless.  Nothing like driving a fibreglass slip over fluid
with no breaks.  Fun times.

-----

So, who the fuck is denmac.com ?  Several times a week someone from 
this place hits this page directly.  No click-throughs, nothing... just
straight in, straight out.  They're located in Illinois, and really I
know only one person out there, and he wouldn't care to do daily checkups
on me.  Also, I'd know his host; this ain't it.

"DENMAC | Engineering the Future of Networking"

Um, ok, sure.

Now, it's also possible that this may be Upright Software, since Denmac
exists inside their IP space, but they're also from BFE, IL.  So, who
the fuck is it?


____________
[ 12.15.01 ]
[   RANT   ]

Rick Forno has a great piece on why the media is shit.
Well, that's not what he says, that's just my own interpretation.

Read for yourself here.

-----

[  HUMOUR  ]

I can't possibly agree with the above without offering this:



(go clicky-clicky.  duh.)


____________
[ 12.12.01 ]
[  LYRICS  ]

0934

Manic as all fuck.

Don't ask what's with all the postings this morning.

A brand new day is dawning
A light that will annoint me
A sign from the subconcious
An angel sent to guide me
The search it will be over
The call will now be gentle
In a carriage
On the fast train,
On the last train
To Transcentral

  -The KLF, The Last Train To Transcentral

-----

[   RANT   ]

0820

So, apparently Verizon doesn't give a shit about network abuses
stemming from their systems:

<spam@verizon.com>:
192.76.86.129 does not like recipient.
Remote host said: 550 <spam@verizon.com>... User unknown
Giving up on 192.76.86.129.

<abuse@verizonwireless.com>:
199.74.158.31 does not like recipient.
Remote host said: 550 5.1.1 <abuse@verizonwireless.com>... User unknown
Giving up on 199.74.158.31.

<spam@verizonwireless.com>:
199.74.158.31 does not like recipient.
Remote host said: 550 5.1.1 <spam@verizonwireless.com>... User unknown
Giving up on 199.74.158.31.

Ah well.  Fuck 'em anyways.

-----

[  HUMOUR  ]

0629

Suck on this.



(hint: click it)

-----

[   RANT   ]

Pointed out something to Spencer this morning, a reiteration of an old
thing tossed out too often

"chix fuck everything up"


____________
[ 12.10.01 ]
[   LINK   ]

0858

Random Link Generator
Note:  Each time ya click it, ya get a different page.  (Duh)
http://random.yahoo.com/bin/ryl/

-----

0330

There's something beautiful about 3am.

Streets are empty.  Streets, plants, parked cars, all wet.
A clinging wetness.  Scrubs; cleans; cleanses.  3am cleans
and purges.

3am is beautiful.

Lights are green, reds are quick.  Slow reds last forever,
and give even more time to depressurize.

No traffic, no drunks, no anything.  No lines at 7-11, no
lines at the pump.  Whole lotta nothin goin on, and I like it.


____________
[ 12.09.01 ]
[   RANT   ]

I fucking hate spam.  Really.  A fucking *lot*.

I also hate ignorance, and irresponsibility.

Take an example, if you will, of a university allowing
an open spam relay to exist on their network.

A box, hypothetically speaking, such as:

lark.bme.unc.edu

Have fun, fukkarz.

-----

[  RANDOM  ]

0247

Stuck driving through Garbage Grove today.  Nice being in an area
officially titled "Little Saigon".  I only hadta stare at three
fucking flags whilst parked in traffic trying to get through the
damn hellhole.

Don't even get me started on race and driving skills.  Meme memory
plays a part in it.  Interesting, but more than I care to get into
at this hour.

-----

Not everyone has "Dante moments".  For those of us that do, it usually
manifests itself in one of a few popular manners.  IT guys frequently
find ourselves saying "...and I'm not even supposed to be here today!".
Otherwise, a lessor Dante-ism which I do find applicable is, of course,
the "and try not to suck any dick on your way to the parking lot",
commonly shouted at an exgirlfriend.

Ever feel like a broken record?

-----

[  MUSIC   ]

Saw PIGFACE play Tuesday night at the Mouse o'Blues.  Met up with Chris
for the show, which is cool, cuz his industrial roots probably stretch
back further and deeper than mine do....

Amazingly, didn't run into anyone I expect to.  No Blitz, none of the
locals from OC's little industrial elite crew.  I'm guessing this may be
do to their distaste for Siebold from Hate Dept. who was along with PIGFACE
on this tour.  Really weird.  Didn't see anyone I expected to, and no one
I wanted to.  Evan was there, tho I didn't even expect him to be, since I
never cross paths with him anywhere, anyways...

The show was awesome.  

Missed it?  PIGFACE has been a rarity for the last few years, tho 
hopefully this tour marks more of a resurrection for them.


-----

[  RANDOM  ]

Oh, and fuck all y'all.


____________
[ 12.02.01 ]
[ COREDUMP ]
[   v2.0   ]

2231

I need to sleep more.  And not wake up to shit like this...

And this.... this is sad.  Shocking, stereotyping, profiling, fucking
ignorant, and AMAZINGLY sad...

Adequacy.org "News for Grown-ups."  "Is Your Son A Computer Hacker?"
By T Reginald Gibbons 

Adequacy indeed.  "Grown-ups" my ass!  Just because they've hit
middle age does NOT given them some vast, god given knowledge.
I worry about Amerika's future in general, what with all the idiot
teenage fucktards out there that will someday run this rathole, but
with people like these *raising* them, it's suddenly becoming rather
clear....

(Read the link.  Get it? ;)

-----

[ COREDUMP ]

1451

There's no account for other peoples' taste.
...
or the distinct lack thereof.
...
The moon is most beautiful at TDC, and also just before dawn.
...
Yeah, I fucking hate the cold.
...
When it all comes down to it, trust no one but yourself.
Like no one but yourself.
Love no one.  Including yourself.
What it all comes down to is that you can't rely on anyone
other than yourself, never expect anyone to do what they say/promise/
should/etc.
People are just too... unreliable, flakey, self-absorbed, haughty,
self-serving.
Blind
Most of fucking all, *blind*.
So certain they see a tree that no, it's not that they're missing
the fucking forest, but most likely in the desert thinking a
cactus is a fucking oak or pine or douglas fir even.

All the world's indeed a stage
And we are merely players
Performers and portrayers
Each another's audience
Outside the gilded cage

  -Rush, Limelight

'Tis true.  Keep that in mind.  You are watching actors, in a grande
performance royale, and nothing is what it seems.
To survive unscathed, it's best to be a solo spectator.  Do not
feed the actor, please keep arms, legs, and hearts inside the ride
at all times.
...
My ex is a complete mess in the head, and really, that's the only
reason my maladjusted former best friend seems to have had any interest
in her.... he's a fixer, she's a good project.

Ugly, you and me
Together we cling
We think that we're free

  -Henry Rollins

Heh.
...
Fuck CompUSA and their bait-n-switch ads.
...
It's fucking cold.
Hate it.
In 2 weeks I'll be atop 45 feet of sexy fibreglass glossiness gliding
over the Pacific.  Joyous as it is, *it'll be fucking colder!!!*
...
oh, and FUCK.


____________
[ 12.01.01 ]
[  QUOTE   ]

1211

Something I dug up...

"...hackers are, in fact, a national resource. You can't create a hacker. Hackers are born; they are very special people. When the Israelis catch a hacker, they give him a job. When the Americans catch a hacker, they kick him in the teeth and throw him in jail. And that's not good."

  -Robert D. Steele, CEO, Open Source Solutions
   From PBS' Frontline / HACKERS






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