2001.05.19 ++ CONNECTED AT 26,400 BPS

The world suddenly seems so much slower.

2001.05.16 ++ THE UNTOUCHABLE DEMISE

Every morning I lay on the floor in the front parlour watching her door. The blind was pulled down to within an inch of the sash so that I could not be seen. When she came out on the doorstep my heart leaped. I ran to the hall, seized my books and followed her. I kept her brown figure always in my eye and, when we came near the point at which our ways diverged, I quickened my pace and passed her. This happened morning after morning. I had never spoken to her, except for a few casual words, and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.

Her image accompanied me even in places the most hostile to romance. On Saturday evenings when my aunt went marketing I had to go to carry some of the parcels. We walked through the flaring streets, jostled by drunken men and bargaining women, amid the curses of labourers, the shrill litanies of shop-boys who stood on guard by the barrels of pigs' cheeks, the nasal chanting of street-singers, who sang a come-all-you about O'Donovan Rossa, or a ballad about the troubles in our native land. These noises converged in a single sensation of life for me: I imagined that I bore my chalice safely through a throng of foes. Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand. My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom. I thought little of the future. I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration. But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.

One evening I went into the back drawing-room in which the priest had died. It was a dark rainy evening and there was no sound in the house. Through one of the broken panes I heard the rain impinge upon the earth, the fine incessant needles of water playing in the sodden beds. Some distant lamp or lighted window gleamed below me. I was thankful that I could see so little. All my senses seemed to desire to veil themselves and, feeling that I was about to slip from them, I pressed the palms of my hands together until they trembled, murmuring: `O love! O love!' many times.

SOURCE: "Araby," The Dubliners, James Joyce.

2001.05.12 ++ LOVELY HAPPINESS

I'm moving out to a new place tomorrow.

I'm going to miss the deli around the corner. The chinese restaurant where I always order from. The only homeless man in New York City I don't mind giving money to.

Most of all, I'll miss the view of the city I had from my desk as the sun comes up in the morning. I do regret that I never had a chance to photograph it.

2001.05.08 ++ SEE PROGRAMMING?

D:\_STERN\2001.SPRING.C.PROGRAMMING\

= 34.5 MB (36,241,408 bytes)

C:\Program Files\Borland\CBuilder5\

= 244 MB (256,516,096 bytes)

C:\Program Files\Adobe\Photoshop 6.0\

= 108 MB (113,410,048 bytes)

?:\Knowing I've learned a semester's curriculum in two days\

= BYTELESS.

2001.05.07 ++ A QUIXOTIC IDEOLOGY OF BEING

Singularity, The. The Techno-Rapture. A black hole in the Extropian worldview whose gravity is so intense that no light can be shed on what lies beyond it.

The Singularity is a common matter of discussion in transhumanist circles. There is no clear definition, but usually the Singularity is meant as a future time when societal, scientific and economic change is so fast we cannot even imagine what will happen from our present perspective, and when humanity will become posthumanity. Another definition is used in the Extropians FAQ, where it denotes the singular time when technological development will be at its fastest. Of course, there are some who think the whole idea is just technocalyptic dreaming.

SOURCE: The Singularity @ Transhumanist Resources.

2001.05.05 ++ SCHEMING THE PEACE ORCHESTRA

Of the better visions we have of the circumscribed roads of our own pure melodies is a place where we can simply dive into chocolate and the hearts that flow with it.

But there is no light today. We can't live in the cold weather.

At the dawn of light, we'd like to believe we're not on the uniform track, yet we know we are because that's how we play the game. In order to race feet to feet, the slightest chance of a mischance is a possible deduction in time, i.e, a loss, a defeat, a medal missing around our necks and a night full of tears we can't swim in.

But there is no light today. We can't live in the cold weather.

Obviously the flow is not liquid; the solidity is lacking strength. The bodies we love, the ethereal that we hate, all bound in an entity of hope that shines through the window (that we cracked after an eon in defeat).

But there is no light today. We can't live in the cold weather.
But there is no light today. We can't live in the cold weather.

2001.05.04 ++ SOUNDTRACK FOR THE MODERN ERA

AIR : Moon Safari | French engineering, is it? There's something about this CD that drives a boy crazy. We're talking dreams, fantasies, everything surreal becoming even more surreal, enough so, that we feel like it is indeed real. Something amazing.

APHEX TWIN : Selected Ambient Works, Volume II | One wonders what a musical genius is made of. When clicks and ticks sound like brilliant melodies, one has to wonder why they're still wondering that previously stated thought. Mmmhmm.

BOARDS OF CANADA : Hi Scores EP | "Turquoise Hexagon Sun" (also available on their Music Has a Right to Children CD, which is available in stores unlike this EP) is the one song that I put on repeat when I know that I have to get shit done. In fact, it's on repeat now. The rest owns too.

BOARDS OF CANADA : In a Beautiful Place Out in the Country EP | One has to wonder what kind of reclusive people these are. Wait, no, it's just music. But it's more than that, right? Wrong. It's music. Chill out, live life. In a beautiful place out in the country. With synthesizers.

KRUDER & DORFMEISTER : The K&D Sessions | Listening to these Viennese mixers is a joke that somehow, someway became a beautiful notion. Especially recommended are the David Holmes and the Lamb tracks, although if you're familiar with Bone Thugs N Harmony's "1st of da Month," you'll truly understand how K&D are something else.

NIGHTMARES ON WAX : Carboot Soul | Funkafied-soula-jazza-nova-whazza? Izza nice-a! Sure, precisely, whatever you say. I think the term I would like to apply to this CD is "shizzam." Or some derivative thereof. Yeh.

PORTISHEAD : Dummy | Beth Gibbons has a voice that drowns men into an abyss of melancholy wisdom, spits them out and makes them wonder exactly why sleep is a necessary item in their daily routines. But then again, I don't know. Do I?

RADIOHEAD : OK Computer | Arguably the most haunting CD I have ever heard. Somehow, I feel like I'm Winston Smith and Mr. Charrington just found me out. That dirty bastard. O'Brien's a bad man. And Room 101 is a killer.

SOURCE: 2001.02.22: In a Dreamland Modern, Dequinix.com 5.0 / Red Pocket.

2001.05.03 ++ GRACE FROM A WATERFALL II

IMAGE SOURCE: "You Wouldn't Know," Fine Killing Liberty.

2001.05.02 ++ CHASING JAYMEE

I love you. And not, not in a friendly way, although I think we're great friends. And not in a misplaced affection, puppy-dog way, although I'm sure that's what you'll call it. I love you. Very, very simple, very truly. You are the epitome of everything I have ever looked for in another human being. And I know that you think of me as just a friend, and crossing that line is the furthest thing from an option you would ever consider. But I had to say it. I just, I can't take this anymore. I can't stand next to you without wanting to hold you. I can't, I can't look into your eyes without feeling that, that longing you only read about in trashy romance novels. I can't talk to you without wanting to express my love for everything you are. And I know this will probably queer our friendship—no pun intended—but I had to say it, because I've never felt this way before, and I don't care. I like who I am because of it. And if bringing this to light means we can't hang out anymore, then that hurts me. But God, I just, I couldn't allow another day to go by without just getting it out there, regardless of the outcome, which by the look on your face is to be the inevitable shoot-down. And, you know, I'll accept that. But I know... I know that some part of you is hesitating for a moment, and if there is a moment of hesitation, then that means you feel something too. All I ask, please, is that you just, you just not dismiss that—and try to dwell in it for just ten seconds. Alyssa, there isn't another soul on this fucking planet who has ever made me half the person I am when I'm with you, and I would risk this friendship for the chance to take it to the next plateau. Because it is there between you and me. You can't deny that. Even if, you know, even if we never talk again after tonight, please know that I'm forever changed because of who you are and what you've meant to me, which—while I do appreciate it—I'd never need a painting of birds bought at a diner to remind me of.

SOURCE: Holden McNeil, Chasing Amy.