August 26, 2001

19:58 | dequinixEIGHT :: reboot :: two days

The number "2" is quite amazing. For me. Now. Of course, hell hasn't frozen over, pigs have yet to fly, and by no means do these insignificant coincidences of the number "2" have any mass global effect, such as to cure cancer or help the Cubs win a World Series. But yes, it is momentous for me. The reboot shall explain all. Indeed.

Routine is heavy on my mind.

August 24, 2001

20:01 | dequinixEIGHT :: reboot :: 08.28.01

The end of August is always interesting. I increment my age by one, start school and try to find myself. Again.

Rinse, lather and repeat, please. Yah, it's definitely quite funny how simple instructions for shampoo usage can reflect life's tenure. Tick tock, another year marches on, and we barely seem to notice the changes.

Bring it, baby.

August 23, 2001

01:49 | A Tradition Unlike Any Other

Every year it comes out, and (nearly) every year it becomes a part of me.

Tonight was the inaugural game of Madden 2002. My Tennessee Titans lost a close one to the Miami Dolphins. It was a heartbreaker, as Steve McNair, who had 312 yards passing, much of that to Frank Wycheck, was intercepted with under two minutes remaining. The Titans were trailing 24-17. And that, sadly, was the final score, as the Dolphins pulled an upset.

I first played Madden 92 with my cousin on the Sega Genesis. I'd take Thurman Thomas and the Bills, HB Screen, and snow in Rich Stadium, and I'd go tearing shit up from front back and side to side. It's amazing the amount of memories one can attach to a video game. Friends, family, not doing homework, etc. When developers and marketers put this out on the shelves, do they realize the impact—the long-term impact—that it may have on someone? Probably not.

On another note, I must say that I am heavily impressed with the game itself. It's the first football title I can honestly say I've enjoyed on the PC. And although it isn't a match for the Playstation 2 version of the game, it damn near comes close. On my Athlon 1.0 / GeForce2 combo, I get 1024x768x32 without a dropped frame. Oof, good stuff.

August 22, 2001

23:44 | An Indication That the World is Alive

There's something amazingly classy, beautiful, soft and human about watching a couple, well past their societally dubbed "prime" as they stroll down the streets of New York as evening turns to darkness.

15:20 | Three Things to Mention

01: Apparently I forgot to renew my domain registration after two years, so Network Solutions cut off access to the site for about a day. It's restored now after I dished out $35. All is well.

02: Blogger apparently doesn't have a good relationship with Network Solutions or Dreamhost, as I was unable to update the site for that reason as well. It's fixed, in a roundabout way. As usual.

03: Men who rev up their motorcycles as they scream down Fifth Avenue are seemingly implying that they do so only to make up for lacking in other areas.

August 21, 2001

01:19 | An Addendum Before Bedtime

What's funny about going to a business school, trying to stay business-minded, letting the business of business flow through your blood, is that while all that is happening, reality becomes something that it's arguably not: crude data. Sure, the NASDAQ plummeted Friday faster than Dominique Wilkins' career post-Atlanta Hawks, but it's much more hype than it is reality. Trust me. In fact, believe me when I say that when I go mouthing off numbers, stats, prospective companies, the fact that my baby Transmeta is worth barely over $2 a share, that I haven't yet lost myself.

The first sign of addiction isn't denial. That's probably the second. The first is not realizing what you've become before it's too late.

01:09 | Selling Your Soul, Techno-Geek Version

Example of a modern "Digital Disruptor" in the Advertising industry according to the newest issue of Red Herring:

Los Angeles-based Anonymous Content has developed a bright Web-content idea. Guess what. It's advertising. The film production company, along with the Fallon ad agency, produced a film series that blends art and commerce, using Hollywood stars and directors, including Madonna and her director/husband Guy Ritchie. The five shorts feature BMW cars as much as they do stars. Founded by Steve Golin, Anonymous has a business model that breaks new programming ground and off-loads the cost of content at the same time—to the client.

The world is truly an amazing place. Just when one thought rich, online media was dead because nobody in their right mind would want to pay for something that they could probably get for free somewhere else, a company out of nowhere comes up, looks at the obvious and makes a killing.

Ah, the sweet business of business.

August 19, 2001

02:49 | Thoughts Before Bed, While Listening to a Future Classic

What amazes me about New Order's new LP is the fact that it has the ability to make twenty-somethings feel alive. The music, the lyrics, the feel and the mood all reflect a level of energy that we all want to live by. And how could it be that a group of forty year olds from Manchester can convey these emotions better than majority of the Billboard 100? Indeed.

Definitely something to think about in regard to the state of music today.

August 17, 2001

19:46 | Harbinger of Devotion III

Ever since I installed WindowsXP (build 2535) on my second computer, I've been subconsciously worrying. What if they know? Know what? Well, since nearly every bit of my life's information is stored somehwere in these two computers, and in countless ftp's, they could very well know anything and everything. About me. Yah. And combining my worries with my inert knack for creating mock conspiracies, I came up with something that could eerily be a truth: What if the Department of Justice let off Microsoft because in truth, the government wants Bill Gates, Steve Ballmer and the boys to keep track on us, the American public? Imagine what the government could do. In ways, I wouldn't be surprised if such data could be worth much more than what a general census could provide. In fact, who knows—What I'm writing right now could be spied upon by evil governm

WindowsXP is good for you. Buy it when it comes out! And love Uncle Sam.

August 16, 2001

17:18 | I'm Tired; Reasons Forthcoming

Oh you got green eyes,
Oh you got blue eyes,
Oh you got greeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyy eyessss!

And I've never seen anyone quite like you before.
No, I've never met anyone quite like you before.

August 15, 2001

07:32 | And You Won't Even Talk To Me

It's easy to lose focus. It's too easy, in fact. But I guess that's part of growing up, part of getting thrown out into the real world, if you will. But it's nice to lose focus sometimes. After all, it's not good to strain your eyes.

I'm soon to hit twenty years old. Twenty. Twenty, yes, say it with me. Even though it's not as "legal" as the proverbial twenty-one, twenty has that "two" in front of the "zero," thus making the the first digit of this two digit number a "two." Quite a big step, indeed.

I actually don't feel much hurrah for becoming twenty soon. Again, it's not twenty-one. Moreover, I still don't know what I want to be. Other than trying to knock off a Baz Luhrmann-like "Yo, baby, it's aight if you don't know what ya wanna do until yer forty," I'd actually like to know. The sooner the better, because then I'll be able to concentrate on getting it, whatever it may be, done, and then heading off to paradise with a lovely woman and sunbathing until the Tennessee Titans actually get that last inch and win that damn Super Bowl.

I want to be an astronaut. I want to be a doctor. I want to be a professional football player. No, Timmy. I just want to be groove to Kruder & Dorfmeister until the Grim Reaper comes to dinner, Sidney Poitier style. And yes, we'll leave the door open.

August 14, 2001

03:47 | Love Defies Age / Shit Defies Logic

I was chilling outside the library with a book in my lap when I noticed these two men. They were well past their 70s, but still seemed to have enough vigor to live life to their fullest. They spoke of how much they loved each other, and I figured they were old friends who were being reunited by some simple twist of fate—Jerry Springer or Maury Povich, perhaps. But if it only was that simple. Soon, they started groping each other's buttocks, kissing madly, making noises that would make a man of forty blush. I soon left, feeling as if I was invading their private space. Actually, I also felt like puking.

I figured that was enough excitement for a day, but it wasn't the case. I caught my friend Jim on the way back home. We stood on a sidewalk for a few moments to catch up on a few things when this homeless man approached us. He asked for food, but I had actually devoured my Chicken with Broccoli from Rosie & Ting's. Looking devastated, he headed toward a trash can. At this point, Jim and I were just curious, so we looked on to what he was doing. What followed was both disturbing and fascinating. The homeless man took out a diaper, opened it up and ate its contents. Jim and I left soon thereafter to find a bathroom so we could puke.

Note: These are not real events. They are accounts of historical fiction, as accounted from watching an episode of Jackass. We are not liable for any puking on your part that may have resulted from the reading of this entry. Have a nice day.

August 13, 2001

07:59 | Searchin' For My Love

Interesting search queries that have led people to this site:

- taiwanese women looking for husbands
- houston whore
- filifino sex

Seeing this trend, I will now blatantly type a few words that should attract quite a few more handy visitors: uncensored Baek Ji Young sex video. Thanks, come again.

05:22 | Cecilia Cheung and a Sailboat to Norway

In the 5th grade, in front of my English teacher, I called a kid "butthead." My teacher heard me and told me the words that would forever affect how I act toward society: "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

It's a bit funny how cliches have a way of becoming a part of a kid and, subsequently, the adult version of that kid. It may be that if we were to create a child, the part of his brain that would dictate his actions in society would be formed of nothing but these proverbial cliches. He'd grow up to be a nice, normal kid. He'd fit into society. Yet, in the end, he'd be quite boring.

But I digress. My reason for bringing up such an incident is related to my lack of updating on this site. If I don't have anything interesting to say, I won't say anything at all. In the end, I hope you can appreicate that. I've been doing this for what will soon be four years, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that stuff gets old, and does so quickly. I try not to throw the same drivel at you everyday. If, by chance, I do, feel free to tell me. That's all.

August 11, 2001

13:39 | Someone Like You

Overcasts on a Saturday afternoon have a tendency to make time go by faster. It doesn't feel like it's noon. It may as well be past five. The later time gets in a day, the slower the mind gets; "After all, there isn't much time left."

Yah, I'm just tired.