Cheap Is Just A Synonym For Easy

Friday, October 26. 2007
The confrontation of the blank page. It doesn’t get any easier, but there’s a few ways to make it more palatable. None of them recommendable, however; I do like to pretend I’m sheltering some part of the demographic from things evil. And with that, we skip the necessary What The Fuck? question, and move rapidly along.

I like to think I write things that no-one else does, or even can. Part of this does extend to writing while smashed, but this usually happens on forums and under a different array of pseudonyms. I also never go back and look at what I might have written, much the same as I make sure to drink at least a litre of water before passing out for the night. It’s just common sense, people, and enables me to get going again in the morning. Looking at drunken postings is like taking a whiff of the bucket you hurled in the night before. That’s half a simile so complete I don’t even need to finish it. Drinking plenty of water not only ensues that you get up at a reasonable hour (if only to take a Jurassic sized piss) but also that you feel semi-ok, as opposed to seedy and unworthy of oxygen.

So right now, I’m going to do three things of note. The first isn’t relevant right now, so fuck you all for asking. The second and third are going to become self-evident, possibly only by way of me telling you here. I know many things. I don’t know a whole lot more. Recently, or semi-recently, I’ve become aware of a bunch of things and they can only be communicated via longer-than-sound bite sized communications. If you’re lucky, rationalising will never enter your life as a force needed to be dealt with. If you are lucky, events will transpire that never ask you to make a call bigger than, say, KFC of Subway tonight? (Feel free to substitute any two competing ideologues in the previous sentence). No matter which way you turn, most of the scenery will not shift. If you are happy, successful and lucky, and this applies to you, I applaud. For a few seconds, long enough that you might think it nice of me, and just too long for you to figure out that I could not be more sarcastic. You are a waste of my time and will most likely die an unfulfilled person. For what it’s worth, right now, I hope to hell that you do, because of no other reason than you make me feel bad about what comes next.

Great. Now that’s done, I can move one. I don’t feel so brilliant about it now, but you know. It’s a sooner the better thing. It makes some trouble down the way, but after that… Clear blue seas, my friends. Clear and blue. I just got to get to that port and get to that boat… At the right time. But that’s a long way from here. A long way from now.

The project for the current time is simple. Outline a pair of fictions, a pair of what-if scenarios so far out they will never come true; because even in the infinite linear timeline I see as true, you can’t go back, and the next time a set of atoms come along that’s exactly the same as me and with the same experiences, in the same world and universe, it won’t be me there and then. These hypothetical situations happened tonight, and as such, are in the past. Unalterable, mine, fixed, written once and once over again, but near me and now, only once.

What if, tonight, I had been in Taipei, or Klamath Falls? And that it had turned out as it should, that ideal night with one of the handful of people on this planet at your time, that it had been truly great? It might have emerged something similar to the following postings.

In an ideal world, I would manage to write what I wanted tonight. Reality says, not looking likely. And sure, optimism is usually a bad move, but I might have tilt at it. Otherwise, look for a cloud of Good Intentions on the weather map to float above my fair city of birth, and pray to whatever deity you might think is listening. I can tell you they’re not, and that they also aren’t even real, but pray away if it makes you feel better. For me. I don’t care much for you.

Well, I care enough to spell check this and post if for posterity, and possibly to egg me into action either now or in the coming days. No prizes for guessing the real outcome.

Ten ten

Wednesday, October 10. 2007
Happy Birthday Taiwan. If China hasn't blocked this page yet, now is probably a good time to start. I bet the public holidays there are woeful compared to here.

PS I celebrated by staying out till five the night before having a drunk argument with someone who should've known better about defending Taiwan. I woke up hungover and went bowling (not my choice of activity). I had a puke in the mens room there, then went over to Charles's place and had a delicious dinner of stuff left over from his barbecue on the weekend.