It's the final countdown.

I love the whole world.

Compared to the other kids in my class, I'm a lot taller

I'm pretty sure I saw Cereal Killer from Hackers at a recruiting event at Linux World today. To refresh your memory:



I didn't get a picture of him, lacking cameraphone at the ready. He was talking to the people at LBL. Are you fucking kidding me?

I was there checking out a job fair, since I was going to be in the city in interview clothes anyway. It was a bust, but worth it to see the Linux dork burnout trying to talk to the lab folks.

Interview, however, was stellar, and my mood is exceptional. If you have a favor to ask, now's a good time.

Words + Pictures

First attempt at some kind of visual narrative - a comic, if you will. First page of 12 I have images and words for. Layout takes me a long time.

Click for full, 'cos it's too big for this column

Untitled, as of yet. But you can probably see where it's going.

The Thing - as envisioned by Zombie Zombie

Cool, but...

Seriously? Worst sounds you'll ever hear?

Maybe that explains my commute anxiety. Justified!

seraphs and more

Nothing exceptional. Felt like playing with words, fonts.

Whatever, Dave.

Song running through my head all afternoon:

Gang of Four - Armalite Rifle

Bang, bang

Went shooting with Snow and our friend today. It was quite exciting. Started out with kudzu hair (due to a convertable) and ended with gunpowder (due to a gun).



I didn't do too badly for my second time in 10 years, I think.

One of our friend's rounds was defective, and blew up while I was shooting. The blowback was kind of weird - burning feeling on my face and hand, and lots of gunpowder all over my fingers. I didn't know what happened, except that it wasn't right. I looked to my friend and shouted through the earmuffs, "IT SPLATTERED". Not a good thing to yell in a shooting range, seriously.

It destroyed his gun. Extremely upsetting. Used a rented gun for the remainder of our time.

All in all though, it was a great time. I think I could make a happy habit of going to a range. It was very meditative. Also, I want to see a nice cluster around that X sometime.

Well we possess mind vents

How can I not love a song that namechecks both Chuck D and hydrogen? The element. Not some rapper.

Dan le Sac vs. Scroobius Pip - Development


Note: The whole album is fucking excellent.

The red isn't the red we painted : it's just - rust

Tymps (The Sick in the Head Song) - Fiona Apple


The way she sings that one rust line gets in my head.

Simulcast in GMT

Previously recorded, from Whitechapel open mic thread:

I used to take photos of empty places - parking lots and garages, night-time buildings and streetlights. Dark streets don't seem to hold my eye anymore : this bothers me, sometimes. When I cross the bridge in late evening and I see the slanting sun strobing between the beams, I think, this should be moving me.

The SPCA was a big green pet park in the middle of an industrial zone. Directly across, there was some kind of building rubbish processing place - mountains of rebar and concrete, big earth moving machines kicking them around in great clouds of dust. I stood and stared but didn't wonder where my camera was.

I wax and wane among the verbal and the visual. Sometimes I hang suspended in between, trying to diagram sentences, dance about architecture. Sometimes afternoon becomes too early, sometimes midnight becomes late. The in-betweenings are so strange for me. I know my states, like valences. The indeterminate has that unfinished feeling, between freeway exits, stitches, channels in the dim hours. The uncertainty of not just where I am but a doubtfulness about where I was, and a lack of confidence about where to go next.

I am annoyed by my own posturing, but I crave validation. I crawl in and out of my shell like a creature not long from the sea. I forget to drink; I rarely drink to forget.

It's not so much that I'm a seeker of wisdom and meaning, it's just that you can only play so many video games before you wonder - wasn't there something else I was going to do? I want to make art - I want to write - I want to invent - I want to leave a footprint on the world larger than my tired calcium and my flung dna. I want my spirit to rise and agitate the future.

I want the sound of insects and electronic devices to ring in the heads of people I've never met and for them to thrill at it, confounded.

Quality Cat Song Entertainment + Dancing

The cat doesn't sing or dance, but the song and dance is still quality.

Poor Sparta.

The Mean Kitty Song

Laibach covers Queen, check

Laibach - Geburt Einer Nation



I forgot how great Laibach is.

unternet do not fail my tired eyes

I'm getting some new glasses, for computer and close work, due to being blind as a bat who doesn't have echolocation. I can't find a picture of them online, but they're something like these:



Yesssss. Real pictures in a week or two, par usual.

Aha!! Further searching yielded success. Leaving prior search results for others trying to find these damned things. But these are the ones: