A journal of questionable quality

Sunday, December 31, 2006

And again for New Year - with moving pictures

Audio with pictures
New Year - again and again....

And then.. almost 2007

a speaking part
Listen up - it's the voice of Wilson.. what else do you need.

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Friday, December 29, 2006

And then it wasn't Christmas

yes Mabel it's video

Behold, a moving picture:

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Friday, December 22, 2006

Christmas is rushing..

Please use elevators, stairs stuck between floors.

That's the way things pan out sometimes.

Strange days. Getting close to the Christmas holiday season. Something in the air seems to cause people to act strangely. It's a well known phenomena. People get weird.

Forget the work Christmas party - old hat, everyone's been there, done that; Banged the arse of something in a broom closet somewhere, pulling the regretful stance next day, as if you didn't want to; "If I hadn't been plastered...", yeh, right, sure thing.

Forget all that. I got bored writing it.

I'm observing the subtle changes in people; people start thinking of more than the immediate circle of friends, family and in-laws, people seem to get a bit more introspective; thinking upon the past, thinking of youthful times - seems to be some regression thing happening.

I'm noticing a change in my own head. Any change needs looking at if it's in my head let me tell you. Man of a million pills. Controlled, devolved, repressed, suppressed, following the straight line, no deviation available if you follow the instructions on the label, slamming them down.

Stops any people scaring things taking place. Don't want to give 'em anything to worry about after all.

Happens more than at Christmas, happens anytime I get so noise free space - rare, appreciated, free space; then I get slower, deeper, thinking about how it all unfolds; who controlled the unfolding, are they still hands on, am I at it myself, this subliminal thing doing it for me, unconscious picking of a path through a web of possibilities.

Ya, dig back a bit, looking for triggers, looking for the major upheavals, the 'chaos' situations that occur. Mandelbrot, and many others, opined that change was not a gradual path, whatever the slope, but more a series of jerks, upheavals, crashes, that forced the change, to another level, another place, another state. Seems to me the chaos theory won out.

Orderly to disorderly and back again. Leaps ahead, followed by a consolidation period.

Whatever it is, sometimes you get to thinking how things went and why and ruminating about old situations, old friends, lovers, partners, people passing through, people long gone. Asking why did you do something at that time - was it in some master script? What purpose did those people have in your life?

Some people you remember as being a genuine lesson experience. Lessons you remember. Apply throughout life. Others, you wonder why.

Was young Angie, back twenty years, just a pleasure machine, or was there a lesson there?

Was there a reason for having John's wife, and her sister? Was there something there? Was it just an animal attraction, a conquest, plain and simple? If so, was that a lesson in animal attraction?

You wonder what they're doing - always hopeful that they have been unable to get by without you.

I find myself thinking 'what would' type things. What would have been the outcome if I had 'just done', whatever.

The problem with the entire deal being linear and one way is you don't get to test options.

I often find myself looking for the next big jerk, explosion, the move to the next phase. What I wonder is 'will I recognise it?' - 'what if it's already happened and I'm in the middle of it?'

Life should come with a handbook that explains all these things. For me anyway.
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Monday, December 18, 2006

Day one - School Holidays

School holidays

Day one - Monday. School holidays begin for the second time in three weeks.

Cool dudes like eldest boy got off two weeks ago; in his case probably because he wasn't going to be able to take any more information in. Officially full. Nothing of an educational nature and, suspiciously, nothing of a sex fiend nature either. More an unhealthy obsession with pro wrestling. Watches it day and night - at an age when I could not look at anything but pussy this fella wants to watch grown men sit on each other's faces.

This week school holidays for the younger people begin. Began. Today. This age slice is simply full of shit rather than full. The youngest in this family is never going to be burdened by an excess of scholarly intake. I suspect his teachers will probably drink heavily to get over the trauma of trying to educate someone who is simply not into it.

School holidays mean, for this household, a daytime with up to eight children. Yvonne's day care thing happening. After they all go home we will have her two and how ever many she managed to find to stay so that we get maximum child saturation for the six weeks. No sense in having a child filled day without having them here all night too.

Don't ask me why - some complex. I don't want to think about it.

How to survive
What you do, if you're me, is keep the fuck out of the way. Lessens the risk of having some knee high snot factory rub up against you when you're not prepared.

Lacking any legitimate excuse to get out of the house, you have to fall back on whatever springs to mind - today I have discovered and incredibly urgent web site modification I have to perform for a friend. Any friend. Any site. Yvonne eyes glaze over at the mention of anything computer related.

The web site modification in this case is repeated entries on Twitter, a site designed to make you waste your entire day, and a major read of Stuff magazine - a magazine that seems to specialize in pictures of good looking women.

What more could a bloke want.

It's not like we're going to get more than mono-symbolic shambles that makes no sense unless you are younger than three years old, for the next 6 weeks anyway. And that's from the entire family.

If it's not the web that needs fixing it turns into an urgent therapy session at the pool. Yes there will be children there, but it's amazing what a pair of ear plugs and removal of my glasses can do. Include underwater stuff and you have a world of your own.

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Friday, December 15, 2006

The horror that is IE7

Microsoft strike again
Friday: nothing to do. Hydro therapy canceled, too sore to go back to the local pool after yesterdays workout down there, the whole day to do nothing.

Enter IE7, Microsoft's finest. Resplendent in new colors. I accidentally installed it earlier in the week and had to roll back immediately to get rid of the bastard.

Not so other people - including two sites that I oversea. IE7 broke both sites. Not just one, but both. Couldn't handle the fact that there was no exclusive mention in javascript of IE7 and decided to bail up.

Site one; just needed a reference to IE7 to shut it's moaning up. Managed to take half a day to rework that.

Site two; complete drama, and not altogether IE's fault after the owner had decided to have a crack at it himself. Bad. Very bad.

Eventually ended up rebuilding the entire 60 page menu structure. It worked. Almost.

Advantages of Skype become abundantly clear when you need to talk someone through a method or two. I take back what I said about Skype - if I said anything at all.

As celebration, and to show off, I garnered a couple of .flv videos that the kite supplier owner of the site had expressed a lust for.

Plucked them out of the temp files and proudly whacked them in a purpose built page - all 50 Mb of them. Not a substantial size I thought, but the transfer took forever. 2 hours later I get a message back from Hostway - site size exceeded. No video upload after all that time. These are the things suicide is made of. Running a site so close to maximum is not an option. Owner informed.

That was Friday. I don't want to do another Friday. This week anyway.

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Monday, December 11, 2006

one day older

not aging well
Saturday. Saturday the 9th of December. Another birthday for me. 52 years old.

How did I manage to get this old? Fifty two years on the planet and not a lot to show for it at all. I expected to be the president of a country by now. Perhaps I might have been elevated to the status of Pope. Anything. Famous movie producer. Actor of renown. International playboy.

It didn't happen. I ended up normal. Well, maybe not normal, but I didn't manage to be the dictator of some impoverished, neglected country, surrounded by slaves and good looking concubines. It just didn't seem to happen.

Didn't manage fame and fortune, being fettered by the rich.

Managed mediocrity - with a series of adrenalin rushes, acting as punctuation marks throughout the time line. Mediocrity with bumps.

I don't feel this age. I will admit to feeling pretty average, but I suspect that is a hangover from this years damage roster rather than the effect of the years. I hope it is. I've got way too much to do to be slowing down now.

The last, should I say, the first, fifty years have been full of adventure and madness. And, I survived. Now I have to have a go at the next fifty.

People of my age always looked and acted so old from the point of view of my youth. I know that's the way todays youth see me. Unavoidable really. Fact is, I don't feel anything like the way I look.

I still seem to be stuck at eighteen - maybe twenty. My brain seems to have forgotten to grow along with the rest of me.

So much to do. So many adventures to have. I need more time. Much more time.

And, I'm already 52.

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Monday, December 04, 2006

and further on up the road

a day unfolds - as they do
Morning, discussed below.

Settle the system down, check yellowarrow, Twitter, add a mandatory entry, wonder why people seem to spend so much time web bound. They seem to spend all day on the bloody thing.

Monday morning check PostSecret - Frank posts the new entries there every Sunday - worth a quick look to see what burdens people are tossing off. Always a good look.

Monday morning; rack off an explanatory email to a client, friend, fellow kiter, suggesting he stop paying lame arse companies money for supposed 'SEO' software - explaining he can do the same thing himself for no money, just application. And an XML file.

To Google video - checking for anything good, to Microsoft Soapbox, comparing content to Google, then a quick cross reference to the daddy of them all, YouTube. It wins.

Back to Twitter - another entry seems in order, naturally.

Flagr need s checking - I have no new map locations to add today, but I like to see who added what. A favorite place is Flagr.

Straight to Digg - driven by a need to know who's doing what; sign in and clean up a bit of my space there.

Out of there, over to del.icio.us, sign in there as well; my account here need some serious cleaning up - bookmarks piling up all over the place, the OCD compulsion - 'clean it up' put everything in the correct place, neatness and order the plan, in small doses.

Over to Orkut - a failed application, swamped now by Brazil. Nothing wrong with that other than no one speaks English anymore and I get spammed by sleezballs all the time. Clean the shit out, swap to Google Reader to pick up whatever RSS feeds I have a need to read.

Back to Twitter, needs another entry because of my ego, the washing is finished, it's getting deep into the afternoon and I'm still laughing at people who waste the whole day on the web.

Realization is a fine thing. The entire day, well, almost the entire day, with the exception of an hour spent debugging a script on the site, laid to waste by the enormous amount of applications I subscribe to.

I take back my contempt of people on the web all day. Damn it.

Resolve to look a little more closely at my days, and how they progress.

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Monday - by the numbers

by the numbers
5pm, 17.00, shower. A precision born of a lifetime of OCD generated organization.

Monday is a big home day. Sheets, towels and various other stuff must be washed - yes, I am a male capable of washing things. I do my own washing, trusting no one to remember to keep my clothes separate from the children's, so adding the sheets and other stuff that will touch me is natural enough.

The weekend went, as weekends do, too quickly. We, as opposed to I, did the rounds on Saturday and Sunday, a virtue of the children being with their father for two days.

Wildly swinging weather patterns - 36 degrees yesterday, back to 26 degrees today, overcast, threatening rain, not really meaning it.

Monday the glow of the weekend alone is wiped off instantly, as happens, and we are back in reality.

Hence the washing. A slow look at the email stack. So much spam. SO much of a waste of time. I cannot help but wonder what pleasure they derive. Sad people. Someone nice enough to send me a virus too - a little, but very well known worm, instantly picked up and tossed by NAV.

The Monday morning is very structured. It has not always been this way. At times I have lost control and allowed variation to take over.

A heady action - hasn't happened for a long time now. Rates right up there with a change of cologne. Heady stuff indeed. Mostly, from memory, caused by an excess of lust - hormones surging. Waking up in strange places. Unscripted moments.

This morning I find the time to dwell on this very subject. Recall what a rush of freedom, spontaneity even, felt like. Remember particular instances - with pleasure and a drop of melancholy. Not that there's anything wrong with melancholy.

What brings it to mind this morning I do not know, but there is some comfort in knowing that I still have a functioning memory.

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