one.o.eight

Posted by Tacitus at 05:51 PM | Comments (0)

May 15, 2007

Happy SPAMiversary

Today marks the one year anniversary of my starting to ban IP addresses that SPAM me. Huh. 79 IPs to date / 356 days = 1 SPAM per ~4.5 days. That's pretty light, but considering this site sees almost no traffic (~40 hits a day, ~35 of which are probably mine :P) that's extraordinary.

So it's just you and I, SPAM. Happy anniversary. It's been a long bumpy year. We've had our ups and downs; mostly downs. Okay, it's been all downs. Let's face facts. We're just no good for each other. <.< Maybe we should see other people. Don't be sad. It's better this way. But please, so stop calling me. I'm tired of screening my calls. It's time to move on.

Posted by Tacitus at 09:34 AM | Comments (0)

May 09, 2007

Spring Fizzle

So with Spring finally here I'd been waiting for the cherry tree in my yard to blossom. All the other cherry trees in the neighborhood had done it. Mine seemed to be sleeping in. I figured it was just waiting to do something spectacular.

This past weekend it finally awoke... with a feh. What a disappointment. Two years ago (Wow! Have I really been here that long?) this event was magical. This time less so. The most only beautiful thing on my property, and it's suffering performance anxiety. :P

Well there's always next year, though I plan on living someplace else by then. At least I better be!

Posted by Tacitus at 09:43 AM | Comments (0)

April 05, 2007

Sun & Snow

Today on my way home from work, it began to snow. The flakes looked like little pills of Styrofoam. Not so strange; I've seen this kind of snow before. I've just never seen it snow while the sun was shining.

Posted by Tacitus at 08:05 PM | Comments (0)

March 12, 2007

Revolution Two + 1 Day

Huh, would you look at that; two years and counting. Not an accomplishment, just an observation. My desire and enthusiasm to write anything here have waned honestly. Depression and dissatisfaction have taken hold and I find myself not want to share some loathsome self-indulgent diatribe with whomever is reading. This in turn is possibly my greatest contribution to the world -- the keeping silent part, not the would be emo vomit. Although it would be incredibly well written vomit. :P

So, once again around the Sun, James. Pip pip cheerio and all that. I'm still here. You're still there. Keep on reading. Peace.

Posted by Tacitus at 03:50 PM | Comments (0)

February 15, 2007

Powerless

So the power goes out at noon today, and I figure it's a good time to go to lunch. By the time I return the power should have returned, and I can get on with my day. So I did, and it did, and all's well right? Sure...

I return to a near empty office.

It turns out that the power stayed off for almost the whole time I was gone, so my boss and the team called it a day and went home. Gee, thanks for the freakin' phone call, people!

Posted by Tacitus at 01:53 PM | Comments (0)

...

You know your job sucks when every morning is an "Oh fuck" morning. That's when, at the moment you first open your eyes to rise to meet the day, the very first thing out of your mind and your mouth is, "Fuck"--as in, "Fuck, I have to do this all over again today." It's not a question. It's a statement. An acknowledgment of the fact that your life is not where you want it to be, and you can't see the way free of its demoralizing cycle. It's like Groundhog Day but without a happy ending.

Posted by Tacitus at 11:50 AM | Comments (0)

February 08, 2007

Wanting MMO Out of Life

CTRL+ALT+DEL... It's like digital Darwinism.

Posted by Tacitus at 02:39 PM | Comments (0)

January 24, 2007

Freedom's Just Another Word for What's on TV?

The Bean is finally housebroken (*knock wood*) and so was released from the kitchen where he had been penned while learning to go outside and not inside. With his new found freedom he tore about the house exploring and rolling around on the floor until the television caught his eye, whereupon he settled down before it and did not move for hours. He just sat there watching mesmerized. It's now his favourite spot in the house.

Posted by Tacitus at 07:21 PM | Comments (0)

January 10, 2007

Yeah...

My job is in transition. I am pushing paper for now rather than coding. In my not too distant future, I may even land the unenviable task of playing a Bob for a client looking to downsize their workforce. Too cowardly to do it themselves, they're bringing in someone else in to be the villain. Until then I am expected to make mountains of mole hills; creating work where none exists so that I have something to do until real work manifests. *sighs* I'd rather be coding.

Posted by Tacitus at 03:18 PM | Comments (0)

January 01, 2007

Happy New Year

eom.

Posted by Tacitus at 04:24 PM | Comments (0)

December 14, 2006

Intermission

If you've got 16 minutes and 37 seconds to spare (plus time for an obligatory add), take a break and watch In God We Trust at Atom Films. (It's work safe -- for those who surf at work... Ha!). Then go out and dance! Oh, and drink a smoothie. They're worth 7 points.

[UPDATE: It's gone, and I don't know to where.]

Posted by Tacitus at 08:08 PM | Comments (0)

December 12, 2006

Here's the Deal

I'm still in New Jersey. My big project is done, and I'm ready to get the hell out of Dodge (meaning: I'm ready to leave). I'm looking for a big change. I desire to go somewhere I have not been. I'm looking at Washington; the state, not DC. Why? Because it's far away. Because it will be new. Because I'm sick of family. Because my friends are scattered to the four winds. Because there is nothing for me here.

Why not go "home" some friends ask? They think home for me is Virginia, but it's not; never has been. I'm from California, but I haven't been "home" in so long that the California I remember is certainly long gone. Returning would feel as alien as Virginia and New Jersey do now. So forward is the only path open.

Another friend recently reminded me opened my eyes to the fact that life is too short not to take chances. I love her for that and much more. Not taking chances is how I was reared; to be responsible to a fault; to deny my own desires for the sake of others' needs; to always take the safe path, because mediocrity equates to just enough success to be happy-ish without any real risk. Fuck all that. I'm now out for me. I'm leaving it all behind. This may be running away, but at least I'm running forward.

Relax. I'm not leaving my love and offspring behind, though such dark thoughts have entered my mind. Our destinies are a Gordian Knot for better or worse. At best I love them. At worst I would not have them to suffer this place any longer than I. So we travel together. Maybe some middle ground can be found between their needs and my desires. I have to hope there is, because even if I swear to totally indulge my own wants, I cannot forsake them. It's in my nature to sacrifice to the point of misery that others may be happy. But I also know that my unhappiness impacts them too.

So I'm updating my resume and working up the nerve to actually apply to jobs. Yeah, this is hardly an "I'm out of here" post, but soon. I have been a multimedia producer and developer, a programmer analyst, an archaeologist, archival photographer, researcher and librarian, boatyard hand, and more. Have been? I am still all those things. I'm just rustier at some.

So if you know of any good jobs in the Seattle area send them my way.

End Transmission.

Posted by Tacitus at 11:52 AM | Comments (2)

November 21, 2006

Up to Here

Sorry I've been so quiet. Work is nuts, and everything is going wrong. With the US Thanksgiving holiday this week, I'm struggling to get everything done and working by tomorrow. I want to scream and maybe break something. What a great way to feel with my birthday just two days away.

Posted by Tacitus at 03:02 PM | Comments (0)

November 07, 2006

Failing My (Representative) Democracy

Today in the United States it is Election Day, and I'm going to get an "F" in citizenship for not voting. I've lost my voter registration card! *cry* I ransacked my house yesterday evening searching for it, but it's just not anywhere I can think to have put it. I know I put it someplace safe, but where?! I felt so civically responsible for getting it when I first moved to this state, and now I've lost it. I can only hope that some polar opposite, evil twin voter has misplaced their's too. Hopefully my love can find it today so I can leave work early and vote! I'd vote with my boots, but a well placed kick to the collective arse of those that need/deserve it no doubt would constitute assault.

Posted by Tacitus at 11:00 AM | Comments (0)

November 01, 2006

It Is Finished

My VA tags expired yesterday. After a moment of silence I replaced them with NJ tags. The last vestiges of the Old Dominion have been swept away... or in this case removed with a ratchet wrench and 1/2" socket (12.7mm).

Posted by Tacitus at 10:16 AM | Comments (0)

October 20, 2006

Limbo

Okay, work has been crazy, and I'm really, really, really feeling the urge to say, "Fuck it!" and run off to hide somewhere. This place is gnawing at my soul. I want to start job hunting; maybe in Oregon or Florida. *shrugs* I don't know why. Where I am just sucks.

I passed (for now) on a new job that would have netted me a nice pay raise, at the cost of an additional two and a half hours to my daily commute (making it upwards of four hours). *shrugs* I don't know why exactly, I just got this bad vibe. Not a sinister vibe, but a "I don't know what the heck I'd be doing for these people" kind of feeling. I don't like that kind of uncertainty. How would I know if I was doing a good job?

I so need a change, and yet change may be the very thing I fear.

Posted by Tacitus at 01:29 AM | Comments (0)

October 10, 2006

Malady

I have had a viral ear infection for almost a week now.

It makes itself known to me not as an irritation in my ear, though I can detect some slight discomfort there, but as a hollow, unrelenting ache that stretches from both of my inner ears into my jaw and teeth, down through my throat to my sternum and lastly branching out along my collarbones to the tips of my shoulders.

Prescribed antibiotics are supposed to defeat the infection, and seemed to have been steadily doing so until this morning. The pain is back at full strength and nothing I take for it has curtailed it so far. I feel terrible.

Perhaps I'll return to the doctor tomorrow.

Posted by Tacitus at 12:24 PM | Comments (0)

September 27, 2006

I Am the Only Running Footman

I am back on chat for the time being (not that I mentioned I was away). The barrier holding me back (and down, man!) has once again been breached; if only just enough to allow me to pass and receive small notes. Being without chat is solitary confinement for part of my psyche. Without it my world atrophies, and I suffer this empty ache when I'm disconnected for too long. And it's been so long, I am now numb to that ache. Disconnection is akin to cessation of existence. I am forgotten.

So if you remember me come say hello. I shall try to reach out to you all as well. If you do not recall my chat ID, leave a message for Meptet at... well, you know where.

(And if not, there's always the Comments link below.) :D

Posted by Tacitus at 11:45 AM | Comments (0)

September 22, 2006

Vampire Bites Hamster

Richard Hammond of BBC's Top Gear crashed yesterday while filming a segment for the show. He was driving the Vampire, a 300+mph jet-powered dragster, when he lost control of the vehicle (for reasons yet unknown). Reports say he suffered serious brain trauma, most likely a result of the extreme deceleration. So far reports seem promising that he'll make a good recovery. I hope the good news continues.

I've enjoyed clips of Top Gear on the web for some time now. The presenters exhibit pure enjoyment for driving, and review cars from the most exotic to the outright bizarre and always with good-natured wit, charm, and ofttimes a silly bent.

But it's not all fun and games. Cars are serious business, and this accident underscores the dangers involved in driving; whether "simple" joy-riding on back roads or strapping oneself to a thunderous devil of a machine and propelling oneself to the limits of sanity.

I wish Mr. Hammond a speedy and complete recovery, and I look forward to seeing him return to Top Gear (should he choose). I further hope that this accident does not shake his joy of driving, because where would be the fun in that?

Get well soon, Hamster.

Posted by Tacitus at 12:43 PM | Comments (0)

September 21, 2006

Pulse Check

Yep. Still here. (Had my doubts for a moment.)

Posted by Tacitus at 07:56 PM | Comments (0)

September 10, 2006

Enter the Bean

This weekend we got a dog. After years of talking, spontaneity took over, caution was thrown to the wind, and a three-hour drive to a Mennonite farm in Pennsylvania was undertaken all on a chance that we'd fall in love with a little "defective" Boston Terrier pup. (He was born with an inguinal hernia.) And fall in love we did; hernia and all. Surgery will no doubt be down the road when he reaches 4 months. He's 7½ weeks now.

Without further ado... introducing Petey Bean!

Posted by Tacitus at 07:18 PM | Comments (0)

September 08, 2006

One Hundred Thousand YO!

My truck crossed the 100,000 mile mark (160 934.4 kilometers! -- more than 4x's around the Earth!) this morning. It has served me very well over the years, and has been with me the longest of any of my vehicles. We've been through a lot together, YO and I. (That sounds funny in Spanish, I know. :P) Here's hoping for another 100,000 miles... though I'm worried I damaged the engine a few thousand miles ago.

I accidentally dropped into too low a gear during an emergency bid for some acceleration on the Garden State Raceway Parkway. I emerged unscathed, but now her values rattle horribly at higher RPMs. So until I address the problem, we drive a little more delicately these days and the slow lane is our constant companion.

Way to go, my little YO!

Posted by Tacitus at 10:06 AM | Comments (0)

September 07, 2006

Fatigued

Why were we born with only two middle fingers?

Posted by Tacitus at 10:33 AM | Comments (0)

September 05, 2006

Melancholy

Steve Irwin's passing has put me in a somber mood. As the world mourns, I (being part of the world) have begun to mourn too. I knew who he was, and had seen some of his shows, but that was all. He seemed a nice sort; enthusiastic, energetic, fearless. He struck me as a person who was too busy living (and enjoying life) to be afraid of much. That's an enviable quality. But it was not until the overwhelming media coverage of today that I really felt a sense of loss.

So I've whiled away a big part of my day drifting (reading the news mostly). In my aimless surfing found this.

It's a cover of Outkast's "Hey Ya" performed by Obadiah Parker's Matt Weddle. It's a beautiful song, and this is a very moving rendition. Outkast's and Weddle's talents shine through. Listening I wax nostalgic; reflecting on my own life and those that I myself have lost.

But isn't part of mourning inherently selfish? Those who have gone are just gone. Only we who remain feel lost loss.

Life is imperfect. We are all mortal; in the end just dust. So try to live a good life with no regrets (and minimal offenses), and if you're passionate enough, outspoken enough, and just lucky enough, the world may take notice (in a good way) of your passing when you do.

Peace.

Posted by Tacitus at 03:36 PM | Comments (0)

August 30, 2006

I'll Have the Club

I went out to lunch with two office friends today. While we were out G. suggested to B. that we stop by a golf driving range for a short time. Having recently played his first game of golf, B. was more than amenable to the idea.

I've never played golf, and have been strangely reluctant to try it. I don't know why. I've just never been inclined. So determined only to watch, I resisted their initial encouragement to participate, until... eventually their persistence wore me down, and I stepped up to the tee. And what do you know? I would never have guessed that I wouldn't totally suck! (Mind you, I did suck, just not totally. :P)

I had mixed results with a driver. While I did manage to drive a few balls downrange, their respective courses and trajectories were quite untamed. I seemed better suited to a nine iron with which I consistently hit the ball straight out to about 125 yards (c. 114m). I imagine that's not very far with a nine iron for more practiced types, but the consistent straight path of my hits seemed to marginally impress my companions who were surprised to learn that this was my very first time ever picking up a golf club; miniature golf putters excluded. Watch out Tiger Woods! :P)

They tease me now that I've been bitten by the golf bug, but I don't feel the need to scratch anything just yet. :P Who knows, maybe I'll explore more of this game in the future. Not on my own, mind you, but maybe I'll join them if they ever go out to play a game. I'm certain there is a world of difference between driving a ball downrange and actually getting it into a little hole. On the upside it's one of the few "dignified" sports one may enjoy with beer!

Posted by Tacitus at 07:20 PM | Comments (0)

August 24, 2006

/snub Pluto

Our solar system is comprised of nine eight planets. Sorry, Pluto, you're just not good enough to hang with the other eight. The cool planets have decided you're out of the club. See ya. さようなら. Adios. B-bye!

C'mon, we all know you’d be happier hanging out with... you know... your own kind. So from now on eat your lunch at the dork dwarf planet table, okay? Look, Ceres and 2003 UB313 ("Xena" whatever) have already made space for you. They're so excited to have one of the cool planets hang with them; well at least a used-to-be-cool planet. You can form a new club over there! Call yourselves the Plutonian Objects or something. :P

No tears please. That would just be pathetic. *gasp* Hey, watch it! That is so immature. Fine, if you're going to be that way...

/snub

And after we came up with a new label for you dorks dwarf planets and everything. So ungrateful!

Posted by Tacitus at 01:53 PM | Comments (0)

August 06, 2006

Rubber

New tires for the car was the goal today (er... yesterday). US$400+! *cries* And that was for cheap tires too! Well, maybe not the cheapest, but that was with a buy 3 get 1 free special. Ready for road-tripping now!

Posted by Tacitus at 03:09 AM | Comments (0)

July 10, 2006

Victory at the Window

The ants are gone! Victory!

They have been rebuffed, rebuked, repelled, and run-off! Okay, it turns out that right after I disturbed their nest they simply left. Ants do that. They were probably gone within the hour, though I did not venture to check on them until two days later.

To where they have relocated I cannot begin to guess. I just hope that it is not someplace else within the structure of my house.

Now the ants may insist that their "strategic withdrawal" is all part of some self-preservation policy, but I (in the role of obstinate underdog/freedom fighter) choose to characterize it as a full-fledged retreat on their part, and further declare this a glorious victory over antkind!

[ Note: I hope you sense the sarcasm in that last part. ]

Posted by Tacitus at 10:28 AM | Comments (0)

July 07, 2006

Invasion!

Last night I was sitting at computer -- I am a mousepotato! -- when an ant crawled across my desk; a scout looking for food no doubt. Now, I have little problem with bugs so long as they remain outside my house. Inside? They're dead. Except for spiders: I always at least attempt to evict rather than squish them. So I killed the ant.

Twenty minutes later another ant crawls across my desk. Dead.

Then another.

And another.

Houston, we have a problem.

It has been raining a lot lately and the ants are coming into my house, but from where? Searching reveals seven or eight ants crawling around in the window track, and a few more can be seen on the outside track as well. Bingo! But the window is supposed to be sealed better than that. How are they getting in?

*opens the window* (sideways-sliding window)

Between the window and the wall (in that little trough where the window jams against the house is... an ant nest! Thousands of them! And the sound of a light rain accompanies them. Except that it's not raining. It the sound of ants falling from the upper track of the window onto the plastic of the lower track. They're everywhere!

Aiyeee!

So I have ants! In my house!

This means war!

Posted by Tacitus at 03:31 PM | Comments (0)

July 01, 2006

It's a Bug's World

Today we visited Insectropolis, a insect museum located near the Jersey Shore in Toms River, New Jersey, USA. They are open odd hours, and so by the time we arrived in the early afternoon, we had but one hour to take in the entire attraction. Fortunately the museum is rather small. But despite its small size, the insect collection it houses is magnificent! There's even a petting zoo!

I was brave and held every bug! Okay, there were only four bugs available for holding, but I held them all!

There was an African Giant Millipede, Chilean Rose Tarantula, Madagascar Hissing Cockroach, and an Emperor Scoprion; docile insects arthropods all.

The millipede felt surprisingly solid, heavy even, while the tarantula, cockroach and scorpion felt very light. The cockroach's feet were also sticky. They have these sticky pads on part of their feet that help them adhere to vertical surfaces. They mostly just sat still in my hand. The tarantula passed the time tapping her legs here and there across my fingers, while the scorpion was just starting to get comfortable in my hand and possibly readying to explore my forearm when the handler took him away.

I thought they were pretty cool, but my love and the spawn seemed less sure. I must confess that I would not have been quite so brave had they not been there. But I thought it important not to show fear so that my own apprehension about bugs would not reinforce their own reservations.

A fun time was had by all. We shall definitely return.

I give it six to eight thumbs up! More if I was a millipede!

( Sorry there are no pictures. I forgot my camera. T_T )

Posted by Tacitus at 09:15 PM | Comments (0)

June 21, 2006

Summertime Simmertime

Today is the official first day of Summer (for those of us living north of the Equator). However, as the tourists have been flocking to the shore here since the weekend of Memorial Day (observed on the last Monday in May in the US), it's felt like Summer for three weeks now.

Today also marks the first day at my work with functional air conditioning! [EDIT: Never mind.]

Ah, Summer.

Posted by Tacitus at 11:12 AM | Comments (0)

June 14, 2006

Hard Work

Sorry for the silent treatment. Life Work goes on here at the sanitarium office. I have so much to do in fact that my energies to write anything (other than the code for which they pay me not so nearly enough) have been subsumed by an overwhelming desire to simply sleep when I get home, provided I don't doze on the commute home; scary when you consider that I drive home.

Of course, when I get home, sleep is not an immediate option. There are those that hail my arrival, want to tell me about their days, and generally have me interact with (and in some way entertain) them until their respective bedtimes. So I sit, listen, occasionally glaze over, and generally succeed in coaxing semi-coherent conversation from my fatigued mind. Sleep is but a dream; the stuff of weekends.

Low morale has a draining effect on the soul, and mine is presently low. Some of this is chemical in nature; natural (biorhythms, etc.), not artificial (I know, I'm no fun :P). But a big part of it is work related. Deadline upon deadline upon deadline with no rest in between; everyday a new crisis arises that requires my seemingly unique expertise to solve.

"Give it to T. They can figure it out."

"Sorry to pull you off your own tasks, but we need a solution for this and fast."

"Great job! Now what’s the status on your own tasks?"

*sigh*

What can I say? I am a valuable resource to my team. And while I am trying to limit myself to performing one miracle per day, the need for my services outside of my own assignments makes it difficult for me to complete my own tasks timely.

Understand, I like being valued. It's quite gratifying. But this continuous needing of me is wearing on me. Being valued is important, but so is being appreciated.

There seems to be a fine line between the two: value and appreciation.

It has always struck me as odd how people will say that they appreciate all the hard work you are doing, as if the hard work itself was the critical facet of an above-and-beyond act. Would it not be more sensible to express appreciation for the accomplishment rather than the effort?

Telling me you appreciate all my hard work sounds a lot like saying, "Nice try. You'll get it right eventually." It shows that my contribution is valued, but does it really express any appreciation for my resulting accomplishments? Maybe I'm just being overly sensitive, but ofttimes I feel more insulted than complimented.

Anyways, a lot has been going on in recent weeks. Nothing bad, thankfully. Just life stuff. Sorry, I've been remiss in posting. Guess it's a matter of my working harder to keep the updates flowing. I know you appreciate all my hard work on this matter. And, hey, eventually I'll get it right! Right? ;)

Posted by Tacitus at 02:25 PM | Comments (0)

May 15, 2006

Just Keep Driving

I love driving in the rain. I love the grey hue that storm clouds cast over the world. Bright reds, yellows, and blues glow in this light. The rest fade away.

.
Work has been a madhouse these past few weeks, an ugly madhouse, and has left little time for writing. Yet despite this, things keep happening.

..
My father's surgery went well. The doctors reported that the cancer had remained contained, was easily identifiable, and easily removed. This is good news indeed and cause for greater celebration when he turns sixty-seven later this week.

...
If love is a battlefield, then this spring is proving a bloody season. (Once again) all around me relationships are disintegrating. I cannot comprehend how people can convince themselves of the worst in the people they once loved. Intellectually I understand the need to distance oneself emotionally from a former lover in order to move on, but to vilify them such that they would seem a monster to those who do not know them is just sinful. It is the result of some underlying guilt that the vilifier harbours within themselves when they make the split, I think. To feel better about themselves they channel their own guilt and remorse for whatever truth they hide into their feelings for their former lover until all that remains in their own mind is an image of a beast with whom they were trapped for so long and from whom they are finally liberated; their act of abandonment becoming a guilt-free escape. It's bullshit and a lie, and unless they are honest with themselves and with everyone involved (including those they chose to involve) in the alibi of their breakup, whatever relationships they move onto in the future will be tainted by the lies they told themselves when ending their previous one. Strangely, all the trauma from witnessing this rash of emotional devastation has seemed to strengthen my own relationship. Perhaps it is easier to have clarity when the contrast between ones own happiness and others misery is so stark.

....
'Tis also the season of home improvement. I have officially signed away my good name, and possibly my future, on a "home improvement" loan so that we might wrap our house in vinyl. Sadly this is not as titillating as it sounds. Vinyl clothing is kinky. Vinyl siding is not. Soon we shall bid adieu to Mr. Mustard Yellow, and welcome in Ms. Mossy Green. I hope this effort doesn't result in just another shade of blah.

.....
It was Mother's Day yesterday here in the USA. I didn't manage to call, but I sent a card. It's a funny eCard offering literally one million thanks to my mom for everything.

A lousy eCard? That's all you sent?

Yeah, I suck.

We did build planter boxes for our garden at home though. Okay, we built them last weekend, and only got one partly installed, and that was on Saturday not Sunday, but that has to count for something! Right? Maybe? No?

*sighs*

Well at least the rain still likes me. :P

It was magnificent as I drove into work this morning. It didn't care that I suck, that love stinks, that work is insane, or that vinyl siding isn't remotely kinky. It just came pouring down, washing over everything; scrubbing away the grime that clings to everything; everything including me -- freeing me briefly of all the meaningless junk I let weigh on me.

I love driving in the rain. I love the grey hue that storm clouds cast over the world. Bright reds, yellows, and blues glow in this light. The rest fade away...

Sometimes I wish could just drive forever.

Posted by Tacitus at 08:04 PM | Comments (0)

May 10, 2006

Mad World

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere

And their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
'Cause I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Mad World

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen

Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
'Cause I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Mad World

-- Tears for Fears

Been playing in my head all day. Now it can play in yours too.

Posted by Tacitus at 03:19 PM | Comments (2)

May 03, 2006

Pd

The what.
The why.
Play on.

Posted by Tacitus at 11:10 AM | Comments (0)

April 10, 2006

Dunks, Downloads, and Digging in the Dirt

We were to visit my parents this weekend, and attend the baptism of our newest niece, but things didn't work out. Saturday morning, my love awoke with a migraine and accompanying nausea, and our daughter had contracted some form of phlegmy, coughing contagion; compliments of her fellow "disease vectors" at pre-school.

So we stayed home, and I finally installed Skype so I could make the long distance call to send our regrets.

Sunday we planted flowers and shrubs in the yard: pinks, snapdragons, azaleas, and rhododendron.

Next weekend we'll try again to visit my parents before my father's surgery. That's what this trip is/was really about anyways; seeing him before the surgeons excise his cancer.

Posted by Tacitus at 01:36 PM | Comments (0)

April 05, 2006

Spring Mourning

I woke this morning
the weather was bright and mild
sunny Spring morning

Soon the sky turned grey
a light rain was in order
cloudy Spring morning

Then it starts to snow
Snow in Springtime? What the fuck?
I blame Chernobyl

Posted by Tacitus at 01:36 PM | Comments (0)

March 21, 2006

A-Team 2006

"In 1972 a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn't commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. [From 1983 to 1987], still wanted by the government, they [survived] as soldiers of fortune. If you [had] a problem, if no one else [could] help, and if you [could] find them, maybe you [could] hire... The A-Team."

They found me today, and chased me up the Parkway. Oh, they did a good job of looking inconspicuous, and pretending not to be following me per se, but their reputation precedes (and betrays) them. I couldn't tell who was driving. I didn't dare slow down to see. Maybe all of them. I lost them in traffic; my econo-rally racer easily outpacing... their van. You know the one: black with red wheels, side stripes and spoiler.

As I sped away -- Yes, I took this pic at speed. And yes it was dangerous. But they were on my tail! What else could I do? Slow down and let them catch me?! This is the A-Team, man! The A-TEAM!!!

*deep breath*

Calming, soothing, breathing... Going to the happy place, yes, the happy place.

*breathe*

Come to think of it, I don't recall ever having wronged anyone in this or any other local community. And I've certainly never tried to run any of the countless elderly widowers with comely, young daughters off their truck stop/airfield/aerobics studio/farmstead because they refused to let me operate my arms smuggling/drug running/counterfeiting/money laundering/blood sporting/cult/biker gang operations out of their dilapidated warehouse. Perhaps, they we pursuing someone else. Oh nonsense! They were in my rearview mirror!

*deep breath*

So... as I sped away, I began to wonder if after all these years:

Are they once again wanted by the government?
Are they once again surviving as soldiers of fortune?
And if so, if you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, can you still hire... the A-Team?

...

And more so, what the hell are they doing in New Jersey?!

Posted by Tacitus at 10:33 AM | Comments (1)

March 20, 2006

13:26

Spring was scheduled to arrive here today, but has been delayed on account of weather. :P

Posted by Tacitus at 01:26 PM | Comments (0)

March 11, 2006

Me and My Mortality

I received a call yesterday. My father has opted for surgery foregoing the previously planned radiation treatment. With the radiation option, should there arise any other trouble in the region, surgery would not be an option, and the more he thought about this the more it bothered him.

The description of the surgical procedure was clinical enough, but still made me a bit nauseous. Abdominal incisions... I underwent laparoscopic surgery once; felt like I had been gut shot when I awoke (or how I imagine being gut shot would feel). I don't envy him this procedure for neither the cancer nor the recovery period.

The doctor further told him that, if it is discovered that the cancer has spread, they will be doing whatever "needs to be done" while they have him on the table. This means removing whatever is cancerous.

Then there was further revelation of the growing list of ancestors I have who died of cancers or where in the early stages this or that cancer when they died.

All very uplifting stuff.

The phone call came in the middle of a work crisis that lasted the day so I didn't really have time to reflect on any of this until I was home. When I finally did, I shut down; slept for 14 hours. It helped some.

Times like this I feel so mortal that 108 years seems an impossible achievement... almost.

Posted by Tacitus at 08:39 PM | Comments (0)

Revolution One

It is complete; a whole year of my life junk recorded here for the disinterested masses to overlook in their endless googling for free music, warez, and pr0n. Despite the lack of traffic (not surpirsing given the abscense of the aforementioned content) I see no reason to discontinue this endeavour. This mic's still live and I'm still here, and more shit is bound to happen. This is life after all.

So once more around the Sun we go.
You know where to find me.
Peace.

Posted by Tacitus at 11:36 AM | Comments (0)

March 07, 2006

Ahn'Qiraj, When the Gate Opened

I was there. The day was long fought. The victory hard won. It was glorious!

Okay, okay, the 'war' was pre-scripted to end with the enemy being driven back 10 hours after the Ahn'Qiraj Gate was opened (by a player no less) but it was still a hard fought day. Big, big beasties everywhere! Repeated assaults on the Cenarion Hold! Fun times! Okay, I'm done geeking out.

We now return you to our regularly scheduled programming. :P

[Note: This video is by Whistor of The Impalers (and Unity). I am not he, but my guild is part of Unity and I was in the Unity raid group for the day.]

Posted by Tacitus at 10:02 PM | Comments (2)

February 22, 2006

The Things You Remember (Or Perhaps Just Don't Forget)

I was recently reminded of an event in my last week of high school. Our whole class was assembled and read the riot act by the headmaster about something I had no clue about. He seemed particularly pissed at me, and made it a point to vent his spleen about how I should count myself extremely lucky that he didn't just expel me on the spot and leave me to explain to my parents why I wouldn't be graduating. Which would have gone something like, "I woke up this morning and got expelled, and I don't know why!" [Say that like Robin Leach and it's funny.]

In a flash I was in Bizarro World. It was one of those situations where the "adult" is convinced that the "child" is lying about "it" and nothing the child can say or do shy of admitting to whatever the hell "it" is will get them off the hot seat. In situations like this, it doesn't matter that you don't know what they're talking about. They are convinced you know and are just lying about not knowing. We've all been there. ...I lost a lot of respect for the principal that day.

Even at his retirement banquet years later he would have precious little to say to me; whatever "it" had been still colouring his image of me after all that time. And I never did learn what sacred trust he seemed so certain I had violated to warrant such disdain...

...until yesterday...

It turns out, and this is a summary as I am still no more privy to the exact details (and nor do I care to be), that a handful of my classmates -- the handpicked elite, the crème de la crème of the class, the anointed bright future leaders of America -- had been sneaking out at night (boarding school) and getting drunk and high in the hills overlooking the school. Someone had apparently discovered their activities and/or stash and had turned them and/or it over to the headmaster. True to form, the headmaster was more than willing to turn a blind eye (mostly due to his inability to admit to himself that he placed his faith in the wrong people) to the guilt of the guilty and direct it instead to any and all that these blessed lads cared to indict.

Apparently, they pointed their collective finger at me.

*sigh* (It all makes sense now.)

When first I heard this revelation I was rather unmoved. I knew too well the quality of persons the ruling elite of my HS class had been; their hypocrisy quite evident to those around them, and so my opinion of them did not change. The revelation of their cowardly buck passing came as no surprise. Rather my feelings toward my headmaster for whom I had had tremendous respect (coupled with admittedly some fear) shifted.

Here was this man, who without once having the decency to approach me regarding these allegations, had chosen to condemn me solely on the collective word of a recently disgraced group of liars. He chose to vilify me for my alleged rebuke of the very principles he had sought to instill in all of us; principles that I can honestly say only resonated within myself and a few others of the un-anointed of our class.

It is disappointing really.

There was a time when I loved my alma mater, but that was a long time ago. Bad memories can so easily crowd out the good. They're more traumatic at the time and etch deeper marks in our brains. Good memories (for me at least) are scrawled on my memory wall in Crayola Washable Markers, while bad memories get the Sharpie.

It's funny the things you keep with you. Even when you think them long forgotten the most innocuous occurrence can trigger their release into the surface thoughts of your brain.

I don't really give a shit that I was falsely accused of smuggling crap onto my high school campus. I never did it, and it's ancient history now. What does piss me off is that an old man whom I respected and who seemed so much wiser than all of us, couldn't see that he was being played by a bunch of shitheads, and that he chose to believe the worst of me because he couldn't accept the worst in them.

Looking back on it now, I can see how hard it would be to accept the fact that those in whom you placed your trust turn out to have been abusing that same trust all along. And I can even see the need to find an alternative explanation to focus your attention and avoid any unpleasant truth. Human beings have a long standing tradition of this practice.

Here's to tradition.

*deletes the HS Reunion invite email and gets on with life*

[*satisfied* A much better rewrite of the original sucky post. Yes, I deleted the original. My blog. My rules. :P]

Posted by Tacitus at 03:59 PM | Comments (0)

February 19, 2006

Hang Time

This weekend my friend Dave and his family came up to visit us from Virginia. It had been almost a year since we had seen them (or anyone else from down that way), and it was great to get together! I never thought I could handle four* kids + four adults enclosed in one house for a whole weekend, but it was a grand time. They opted to stay at a nearby hotel (cheap off-season rates), which worked out well for giving the kids time to wind down between marathon play times. Yesterday evening and all day today were spent basically hanging out together and talking the whole time while the kids sundered the freshly tidied house. But I don't care! I had too much fun catching up! Additionally, we played Condotierre and Milles Bornes, two excellent and entertaining games.

So once again, I extend an open invitation to any of my friends to come and visit anytime. We'd love to have you here even for the shortest of whiles.

Cheers!

* a cousin accompanied them.

Posted by Tacitus at 10:45 PM | Comments (0)

February 03, 2006

Rue

Damn, I'm starting to miss those times.

Posted by Tacitus at 03:06 PM | Comments (0)

February 01, 2006

A Cock and Bull (Er, Cock and Dog?) Tale

Back in Virginia, around the New Year, I'd always somehow found myself wandering through my old haunts and briefly reconnecting with people I had not seen in what seemed like forever. Hobby shops, game stores, shopping malls, and the roads that connect them; in all these places I would coincidentally -- and quite luckily -- collide with old friends and acquaintances who actually remembered me and had a few minutes to talk. We'd re-sync our personal histories talking about people we had in common yet barely remembered.

"Him? Oh yeah he moved to..."

"Oh she's doing well... remarried."

"Cool."

"Remember...?"

"Yeah, how're they..."

"Suicide."

"Damn."

"Yeah."

The conversations are brief; Life as Cliff's Notes. Then we run out of things to talk about and the silence sets in, and it's time to move on.

"Take care."

"You too."

*shake hands, wave, or hug goodbye*

::

New Jersey is lonely for me. I have none of these places, and none of these people to revisit or run into in casual chance encounters. My best friends have come and gone; separated by time, distance, and divergent interests and circumstances. I long to touch them. Breath air with them. Laugh and talk with them. Hold them when they cry. Share silence with them. Here there is only me, my love, and our children. But I need more than that, more than just them. I miss you all.

The irony is that I am terrible at keeping in touch. I do not call. I've always felt awkward about phones. *shrugs* And letter writing is right out. (There's a pun in there yes?) My penmanship has deteriorated to the point of hypocrisy, in that I dare to lecture my son on his crappy penmanship -- fucking school systems don't teach kids how to write their letters and numbers anymore it seems, and now he's locked into his own messed up way of writing. (And don't give me any of that "parents' responsibility" crap. I get them to school, and you teach them! I do everything else: feed, clothe, shelter, protect, tutor, transport, support, guide, reprimand, reward, and more. The least you can do is teach him how to write his numbers and letters correctly! Sixty-two symbols; how hard can it be?) -- Sorry for the digression. Where was I? -- Email. Email has met with limited success; however, I often take so long to craft my words that I run out of time and end up relegating unfinished letters to the "Drafts" bin condemning them never to be completed. IM has replaced -- even preserved -- my ability to remain in contact with some (but not all) of my friends. But IM precludes chance encounters; no running into people I have not seen in years. And screen names are anonymous and sterile even when you know the person on the other side. Faces are infinitely richer and complex and memorable and valuable.

But we're here now right? Our chance encounter. So here goes:

"So how's it going?

"We're good. Playing lots of WoW. It's our life for the time being I suppose. Is that sad? In a word: yes.

"Boy Wonder has adjusted well enough. No more martial arts or fencing. He's currently studying the standup bass (neat eh?), and he's pretty good too. Just had his eyes examined recently, and will be getting glasses. Genetics. He's actually pretty excited about it. The detachable sunglasses may have played a factor in his acceptance. My thinking is that if you're going to be condemned to wearing glasses for the rest of your life, you might as well like the way you look wearing them.

"Girl Wonder is starting daycare soon. Has discovered the worldwide web, and is learning basic mouse and keyboarding. We recently switched their bedrooms and she's loving the smaller space. It's something more her size--cozier. And it gives her brother more room to be a packrat.

"The job will most likely be here for a few more years. Then it moves to Maryland. I don't know yet if I'll stick with it that long, or try and find something else. There are advantages and disadvantages to both choices. I'm still searching for a career in which I'd be happy, and am presently trying to figure out how to transition into full-time game design. eLearning/simulation and straight-up gaming are closely related, but for me there is this tiny disconnect. It's like we're just a puzzle piece apart. Only time will tell if I bridge this gap. I've decided that I'd much prefer to have a hand in something that brings people pleasure than whatever it is people feel now when they use the software I design."

So 2005 went like this:

Got a W2-paying job; moved to NJ; lived out of a hotel for two months; moved family to NJ into a neighborhood with allegedly great schools (though my son is doing worse now than he was back in VA); almost got fired from my job by a manager I had never met because writing object code quite frankly frightens managers whose understanding of multimedia programming is limited to a 'next button' on a PowerPoint slide; persevered, even triumphed, despite this "setback" and am now a star player on my development team; have no friends here outside of friendly acquaintances at work; spouse's new friends are all online; son's friends here seem fair-weathered companions at best and moronic bullies at worst; and daughter has begun developing imaginary friends.

All in all our madness is near complete, and something has to give before we do. In this way, the Year of the Cock sucked. *smirk* May the Year of the Dog treat us better.

Posted by Tacitus at 03:36 PM | Comments (0)

January 13, 2006

65/35

Those are the odds for the radiation treatments to defeat my dad's cancer. If that fails then he'll undergo surgery. That has a 65/35 chance of success too. If everything works out, the doctors told him he could remain cancer free (from this cancer at least) into his late eighties. My dad commented with a laugh that if he was still alive at that time, he didn't anticipate being in a state of mind to care much about anything.

Posted by Tacitus at 09:03 AM | Comments (0)

December 30, 2005

Predisposed

Last night I got the call. My father has cancer.

Cancer is really a general term. While there are in fact a variety of cancerous cell types, in layman's terms, where these cells are first discovered determines the type of cancer you have. In my father's case it is prostate cancer.

The doctors tell him that this is a cancer that is easily treatable (statistically speaking), and so my dad is relatively upbeat that everything will be okay, or so my mother tells me. He didn't call me. She did. So I only have her word on the matter. He's opted for the "seeds" radiation treatment.

Even though many forms of cancer are treatable and curable, the word "cancer" still possesses a spectre-like quality. In it's worst forms it is a genetic Grim Reaper inflicting upon its victim a slow, painful murder with the cruelest irony being that both killer and victim are one in the same. It is not a suicide for it is not a willful termination on the part of the living organism.

I've known my share of people afflicted with cancers: an aunt, two uncles, my grandfather, a good friend's spouse and father, and others. Sadly, more succumbed to the disease than won; one tragically way too young.

All this gives me pause to selfishly ponder my own mortality; ponder, but not fixate. From grandfather to father and eventually, possibly, likely to myself, I now know I am predisposed.

Posted by Tacitus at 11:46 AM | Comments (0)

December 23, 2005

Under the Sanguine Moon

This past Tuesday I had dinner with some senior level executives from the home office. Before that makes me sound more important and well-placed within my company than I really am, let me qualify this by adding that my entire team attended the dinner. The hour was late, the weather frigid, the service lousy, the food disappointing, but the company was grand. The company alone made the evening. Then moonrise.

The restaurant squatted on the sandy New Jersey shore offering a vista of the dark Atlantic Ocean. Several hours after the sun set, a vibrant red spot like a stylized rising sun, appeared on the eastern horizon out over the water. It was the Moon. The weather prevented any reflection being seen from our vantage adding something wonderfully strange to the sight.

Too bad I got food poisoning (or a stomach flu) the next day and lost two days of Christmas shopping! Whether this was connected to my entrée and/or being out in the bitter weather without a proper coat, I cannot be certain, but I see no reason to discount either possibility.

But the meeting went well. The execs remembered my name, and in a good way too. ;) I discovered that my team is well positioned within the company for what we do, and that now that the company has taken notice of us, good things may come to pass. At least the optimist in me likes to think so. Yes, there is an optimist inside me. They're just ever so small and not often outspoken. Not unlike a tiny little red dot floating above a vast, darkened, cynical sea.

Posted by Tacitus at 02:13 PM | Comments (0)

December 13, 2005

E = mc²

I have an Australian online friend who once inquired (in a chat channel) about the length (or width or height) of some inconsequential thing. I say "inconsequential" because the thing itself is not important here. Besides, I don't remember what the thing in question was. ;)

"In metric or normal?" came a reply from the guy (an American) whom she queried.

"Metric is normal," she replied.

I laughed.

He had been thoughtful enough to offer the answer in metric measurement (kudos to him), but erred in his assumption that what they each considered normal was one in the same (a common mistake). A classic example of relativity. *wink*

Posted by Tacitus at 03:49 PM | Comments (0)

December 06, 2005

Second Snow

About 7 inches (is that about 17-18 centimeters?) of light fluffy snow welcomed me when I awoke, but it lacked the briskness I usually associate with a wintry morning. Schools opened only 90 minutes late, however; much to my son's chagrin. There are no snow days in New Jersey... in December at least. ;)

Posted by Tacitus at 09:33 AM | Comments (2)

December 04, 2005

First Snow

It snowed last night.

Posted by Tacitus at 06:56 PM | Comments (0)

December 02, 2005

Cold Turkey

There's nothing quite like a nice cold turkey sandwich in the days following the Thanksgiving holiday, but going cold turkey is another matter entirely. This past Tuesday I inadvertently went cold turkey: on caffeine.

I'd been thinking to cut back on my intake of soft drinks. Not to replace them with harder stuff, mind you, but just to cut back on the caffeine and sugars. So on Monday I had lightened my intake slightly and had felt okay. Tuesday and the rest of the week were to follow the same lightened regimen. But I screwed up.

Tuesday: I went without soda at lunch, but planned on having a Coke later in the afternoon. However, when I later visited the soda machine, I found myself a nickel short; so no soda. I got distracted with work and forgot about it. Dinner didn't lend itself to a soda either. I opted for water. I wasn't exactly feeling well by this time (due to no caffeine :P) and drudged off to play computer games with the fami.

Right around the time I started to get thirsty again, I ate this cupcake thing (I will not call it food!) which was so sickly sweet that the last thing with which I wanted to wash its memory from my mouth was a sweetened, fizzy beverage. I again opted for water… and a toothbrush. Gah! That thing was nasty!

I go to bed late and wake up at 4:10 AM with a horrible migraine!

I medicate, miss work, sleep, medicate again, and try to generally ignore the pain. At 5:45 PM I am finally able to function like a normal person again.

So here I sit. Back at work. Bleh. The migraine is now just an ever-present headache. Yep, it's still there. I'm on the Cold Turkey Express and I'm not getting off (for a little while longer at least). Too bad we're out of turkey. Maybe the triptiphane would help me through this. :P

Posted by Tacitus at 01:31 PM | Comments (0)

November 18, 2005

It's So Easy Being Green

One of the most elegant Flash sites I've ever seen; simply beautiful. Add a node and plant a tree.

Posted by Tacitus at 11:38 AM | Comments (0)

November 07, 2005

And They Wonder Why I Drink

So I'm recounting to a co-worker today my riveting tale of woe about getting my driver's license in this state, when she cracks a rye smile and tells me her own tale:

She had gotten married in Ireland, and had decided to adopt her husband's surname as her own. So on her return to the US she went to the DMV to update her driver's license to reflect her new name. She had all of her necessary documentation with her including her Irish wedding certificate.

But she was turned away because, according to the DMV counter flunky, the Irish marriage certificate was a foreign document and would first have to be translated into English before it could be accepted as proof of (in this case) marriage. To validate the marriage license she would have to take it to a licensed translator who would first translate the document into English and then notarize it as an accurate and legal transcript of the original foreign document.

Reasonable?

The Irish Marriage Certificate was printed in English.

Only in New Jersey.

Posted by Tacitus at 10:26 PM | Comments (2)

November 04, 2005

Defining Fundamentalism

Former US President Jimmy Carter speaking on NPR this morning offered this definition of fundamentalism:

A fundamentalist believes "I am uniquely related to God, and my own opinions are derived from Heaven and they must be therefore right. And anyone who disagrees with me is not only wrong, but inferior. If I modify my positions I'm violating my faith. So I don't believe in negotiation. I don't believe in mediation. I don't believe in compromise."

How succinct. How eloquent. A definition that does not inflame, or judge, but simply and completely conveys the character and meaning of the term. Wouldn't you agree?

I ask this because out of context one might assume he was speaking of foreign terrorism. And while the definition would clearly withstand such a test, he was in fact speaking domestically; offering a gentle yet poignant critique of the commingling of religion and politics in today's America.

I encourage you to listen to the interview. It's brief -- about seven and a half minutes -- and in it Mr. Carter speaks to a number of timely topics. He is eloquent, honest, and insightful. And unlike much of the rhetoric in our nation today, he is able to express himself without resorting to labeling or being dismissive.

Posted by Tacitus at 11:14 AM | Comments (0)

October 27, 2005

My Own Private... Darwin Award [Nerf-Style]

After some heavy lobbying on my son's part, we recently permitted him to purchase a gun: a spanking new Nerf N-Strike Nite Finder EX3. (Relax fools! It's a toy! :P) Sporting a brilliant blue frame and bright yellow grips this single shot, single action pistol is chambered for 3 in. Micro Dart ammunition, and comes standard with an integrated laser* sight!

So, young Rambo is all hot to get home and break out his new piece, when he gets a "safety" lecture from yours truly. Admittedly this is no BB rifle. He has one of those, but it lives at his grandparents' house back in Virginia. His pawpaw gave it to him for Christmas two years ago -- a little too early imho. He still can't squeeze the trigger on that thing. It has a trigger-pull of somewhere in the 40-pound range. (I exaggerate for effect.)

Anyways... safety lecture: You can shoot your friends and they can shoot you, but do not shoot your sister, your mother or me. No shooting in the family room [as that doubles as my office] or the kitchen.

Seems simple enough right? Well...

The laser sight on this thing is activated by a half squeeze of the trigger. Half squeeze: laser targeting; full squeeze...

*FWOP*

...foam micro dart death!

So, ground rules laid, I free the toy from its' robustly zip-tied packaging and hand it over. He disappears with it. A short time later it happens...

*FWOP*

"Ow!"

Moments later brainiac comes strolling into the family room rubbing his forehead.

"What happened?" I ask.

"I was looking at the laser and the gun shot me in the head," he replies.

[I wonder how many idiots have used that excuse before the gates of the afterlife.]

"You mean you were staring at the laser light and the gun went off?"

"Yeah."

"So you were staring at the laser light, half squeezing the trigger of a loaded gun and you shot yourself in the head?"

"Yeah."

[QUE: Safety Lecture (Part 2)]

"Ok... Remember when I told you not to shoot your sister, or your mother, or me? Include yourself on that list too. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Idjit."

"Well, it's not like it's a real [gun]. I wouldn't have done it if it was real."

"You'd be dead now if it had been."

*blink*

"Just keep it unloaded until you're ready to shoot something with it. That way you won't accidentally blow your Nerf brains out. And always treat any gun -- even a toy -- like it is loaded. Unless you choke on one of the darts, that toy probably can't kill you, but if you're not careful you could still hurt yourself or someone else. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Good."

Hopefully that didn't go in one ear and out the other. Hopefully he'll remember that a toy gun is still on some level a gun, and is in that sense not always a toy. As with anything, we can hurt ourselves or someone else if we're not careful. Wrapping things in soft foam -- physically or metaphorically -- can greatly reduce the risks of injury, but doesn't mean that we can throw all caution to the wind. Always act responsibly even when the safety is on. We should never discount life lessons learned when we happen upon them, and we should be especially thankful when they cross our paths wrapped in a protective blanket of Nerf.

* Nerf Laser = a low power, red LED flashlight.

Posted by Tacitus at 05:46 PM | Comments (1)

October 15, 2005

Beware the Ides of October

Firstly, happy birthday to my love! <3

It had been raining here for eight days and nights. I do not exaggerate. From torrential downpour to light drizzle and back again, water had been falling from the sky for over a week without pause. There was major flooding north of here, but not us; the sandy soil letting the water run almost straight down rather than stand were we live.

Then this morning we were awoken early by none other than sunshine streaming through our bedroom window. My love's birthday arrives and we get sunshine! The clouds had parted in the early morning hours and the sun was shining through.

Ugh!

*stuff head into pillow*

So... despite the blasted sunshine our day started as they almost always do on a Saturday; late. Then off for a semi-spontaneous (i.e., unprepared) adventure to Barney, the Barnegat Bay Lighthouse, on Long Beach Island, New Jersey. I would have pics but the stupid camera decided it had just enough power to perform all of its available functions save recording images to memory.

Hulk smash! Well not exactly; though believe me I wanted to do just that!

Stupid camera.

It did capture two images though... of the inside of the lighthouse. Ooo wow! Look at...

what is that?

I'm not sure... um...

*shrug*

Stupid camera.

So up the lighthouse stair (217 steps, 172 feet up) we climbed; thirty-eight pounds of three-year-old held in one arm... OMFG am I ever out of shape!

There was a time I could launched myself over the heads of full-grown adults and land safely on the other side; tucking and rolling of course, but not now. All this time sitting at a desk has taken its toll. :( I'm not fat, but I've lost a lot of muscle mass... but still weigh the same. ;_;

Anyways, after experiencing the fierce winds atop the lighthouse, and the only slightly less exhausting decent of the lighthouse stair, we strolled leisurely along the nearby jetty enjoying the spectacle of the sea, sand, and nearby salt marshes. Jet skiers where zipping about in the inlet launching themselves off the tops of cresting waves; mildly entertaining for a time, but eventually becoming annoying as the buzz of their engines was unceasing.

Then it was back to the car for the return trip home and possibly a nice celebratory dinner... but then things went horribly wrong.

Horribly? Well maybe not horribly? But they could have been horrible, had we not had the fortune of finding our way to the Manahawkin Shell Station.

As we arrived on the mainland over the bridge from Long Beach Island, the instrument panel in the car went dead... (suddenly we were hurtling along at 0 mph but keeping apace of 50+ mph traffic) ...then the transmission started trying to shift (automatic) without the benefit of computer guidance. Very scary feeling. Imagine riding along at 50-ish mph and having the drive train feel like it's going to lock up and rip itself out from under you. An exaggerated sensation no doubt, but still. Scary!

Like a golden beacon in the distance peeking up through the trees stood the Shell Oil sign. We made it into their parking area as the car died.

3:30 pm on a Saturday.

First let me say, the people at Manahawkin Shell on Route 72 are freakin' awesome!

They were busy as hell, but they still had time to inspect our car and determine the alternator had died. Which came strangely as no surprise to me. Telltale signs had been manifesting over the course of the past few months... signs that in hindsight foretold the impending doom of the alternator.

4:00 pm on a Saturday.

Then came the unexpected...

"If we can get the part today, we can have you out by 5:00 pm."

*blink*

Cool!

4:57 pm we were back on the road and heading home.

I wish I lived closer to these guys. If I did, they'd get all my automotive business from here on out. I highly recommend them.

Anywho... a trip to the Outback Steakhouse for dinner on the way home and then a little gaming and sex (not at the Outback, mind you) to round out the evening and our day was complete!

So a very happy birthday to you and yours whenever that may be, but beware the Ides of October for they are rife with hardships for all devices electrical in nature, be they cameras or cars.

Posted by Tacitus at 11:45 PM | Comments (0)

October 12, 2005

Harey Clay

Whether you measure it in karats or carrots, Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-rabbit is positively golden!

There is something marvelous about old school, stop motion animation. It has a warmth and familiarity that the most magnificent CGI simply lack. It has a soul, if you will; a human touch. True enough, CGI too is human-made, and truly awesome efforts afford us truly awesome visual spectacles; but CGI just seems lacking in some ways when compared to media like clay.

One possible reason? CGI is perfect. Clay is not.

In its perfection, CGI strips away any evidence of human involvement. Surfaces are rendered as they would appear regardless of their author. No brush strokes or sketch lines -- no fingerprints -- mar their surfaces and betray their human author,... and absolute symmetry is rampant.

Clay by contrast is rife with errors and fingerprints. They cover its surface and penetrate its insides; folded and rolled into it as it's pressed and molded to shape. In its final rendering the author is not lost. They remain connected to their work through the physical evidence of themselves left behind.

Perhaps it is this physicality that imbues a work with soul; an ability for the art itself to "reach back" and touch its creator. And herein lies a real tragedy in CGI. For no matter how long and hard a CGI designer labours in their craft, they can never touch their own creations. Their art has no connection back to them; each frame, each ray, refraction, and shadow -- a digital orphan.

A more likely reason? CGI is grown-up. Clay is not.

Perhaps all of my previous rationale is just bullshit. Perhaps the real reason clay holds such a warm-and-fuzzy feeling (for me at least) is the kid factor. When was the last time you played with clay? Not worked with it, but played with it? Chances are it was as a child. And maybe it's that childhood connection to this malleable medium, rather than some contrived nonsense (see above) about orphaned pixels, that is the true source of the soul of this art.

Don't get me wrong. CGI is freakin' awesome! There was a time it's all I wanted to do, and for a very brief time that's what I did. But CGI is not a child's thing. Not yet anyways; not as early a development thing as clay. CGI exercises and excites my higher brain. Clay just makes me laugh and brings out the kid in me. And besides, who really wants to be grown up anyway?

Been there. Done that. Adulthood is highly overrated.

*breaks out the clay and starts to play*

Posted by Tacitus at 04:10 PM | Comments (0)

October 02, 2005

One Fish, Two Fish, Dead Fish, Blue Fish

Took the kids to the Cattus Island Park Nature Festival today where amongst other things they made fish prints. The process is simple enough: take a dead fish, slather one side in paint, and press said fish onto a piece of paper. Quite macabre if you think about it.

Posted by Tacitus at 07:14 PM | Comments (0)

September 29, 2005

Busted?

Yesterday I got chewed out for not being at work when nothing went wrong.

I was informed by my manager that widespread panic ensued after I called in sick and then failed "to make myself readily available througho