Random Thoughts: Internet Arguments

So, I’ve been reading the comments sections of posts while doing research for OKCBicyclist.com.  Some of them, like the comments in this article, just make my blood boil to the point where I sometimes feel the overwhelming urge to reply.  In times like that, I should remember the following quote from Neil Stephenson:

Arguing with anonymous strangers on the Internet is a sucker’s game because they almost always turn out to be—or to be indistinguishable from—self-righteous sixteen-year-olds possessing infinite amounts of free time.”

— Neal Stephenson (Cryptonomicon)

via Goodreads | Quote by Neal Stephenson: “Arguing with anonymous strangers on the Internet i…”.

The smart move is not to read them at all.


Wigg'n Out

But I’m a creep
I’m a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here…

So I turned 30. Well, they say that 50 is the new 30, and that 40 is the new 20. So I guess that 30 is the new 10. This explains my dating life to a tee. To be perfectly honest, adulthood really hasn’t hit me. At 30 you should feel like you are a full fledged adult with real expectations and responsibilities. Yeah, I have a mortgage and car payments, but I still feel like I’m late to 3rd period geography. I stammer like a hormone ridden 15 year old when I meet a pretty girl. I still don’t know how to fix a carburetor. I’ve always felt like a punk kid.

However, things changed a little today. I climbed into my car this morning and turned on my satellite radio only to find that Sirius had once again rearranged all of my stations. Instead of the wonderfully eccentric channel 24 Disorder (the channel that plays whatever the fuck they want), I find myself listening to the new channel 24 Lithium, playing all of your 90’s alternative and grunge music, giving you non-stop Nirvana, Soundgarden and Screaming Trees. “Songs you danced to at your high dance.”

It took my breath away. I’m not old enough to rate a nostalgia station. I’m still an awesome dude who can go to the late night coffee house and read my poetry and pick up Goth chicks. I’m still working up nerve to get a really cool heroin habit. I don’t need any corporate stooges pushing plastic crap down my throat. I’m still able to get a badly photocopied zine to turn me on to the latest tunes from the underground.

Then a haunting voice comes through the speakers wailing about that poor man in a box whose eyes are sewn shut. Why don’t they make music like this anymore? This is the stuff that angst ridden dreams are made of. None of this Nelly Furtado crap. Those kids play their stereos to loud and wear trashy mid-riff clothing. There are real life issues here like the state of my libido (which is somewhat like a mosquito). President Bush promised me from his lips that there would be no new taxes. There is a war brewing in the Middle East that might turn into a world war. Things are serious.

Wait, I’m a decade behind myself. Is it wrong that songs about our sun turning into a black hole or about a kid named Jeremy getting pissed off at school bring a smile to my lips? Can I actually get nostalgic about the undeniable fact that the world is a vampire?

Who cares, I can still get a detachable penis and if worse comes to worst, I’ve still got a dyslexic heart. Anyway, I’ve got to go work tomorrow . . .


The Joy of Toil

Well, overall, it’s been one of those weeks. Very busy and little accomplished. However, occasionally, there are those days when the world falls into order. Today, work was a joy. I just couldn’t be stopped. There is nothing like the euphoria that comes from the act of creation.

There are those who say that work is something to be survived in order so that life can be lived. Maybe the mentality comes from the Bible and the story of the toil after the fall of man or some deep rooted duality that runs through most human through. However, on days like today, I believe that work is the definition of what it means to be man. There is no separation between work and the meaning of man. The notion of duality is the flaw in recognizing the reality of the world. The notion of two separate and distinct realities is not only a logical impossibility, but it also separates from the joy of being a part of the one, true and only reality. When a task is not enjoyable, we can be sure that this is not the human part of work. This is the activities of most of nature. This is an act of survival. Work however, is the act of creation. It is the act of celebration in being a part of reality. Work should always be done in pursuit of living life to the fullest.

Now, naturalists see no separation between the actions of animals and the actions of humans. To them, the consuming of food and the myriad of human actions are all of the same cloth. However, it is the ability to create, to reinvent the world and to see all of its possibilities is the wonderful gift of being man. This is the essence of work; it is the synthesis of all of the essences of man. To me this celebration is a thing that doesn’t happen often enough but I relish it when it does. Holding my breath that tomorrow is as good as today . . .

[Listening to: Hey Jude – The Beatles – Blue Album (1967-1970) Disc 1 (07:05)]

Random Ramblings

I’ve been pondering moments lately. You always hear about those stories where someone who misses death by a mere second or unfortunately meets their demise. A man’s life can be ended or saved in the briefest of moments. Even if the moment is not so dire, a man’s life can be summed up during every second. During any one second, a decision made or chance encounter can change a life for ever. Does this mean that every second (or millisecond or measurement of your choosing) can be a representation of your entire life? And if so, how does one approach each of the millions of moments met each day? Is the hero the man who approaches each of these moments with the expectation of a new path? Just ponderings now, but I’ve started a short story on the subject. Writing was after all the original purpose of this site, but I have to say it hasn’t been much filled with it up to now.

Work is going well. I’ve been working on ideas that I have had for a long time on how to best develop software. There have been many snags but we have been on schedule for the last two projects and the current one is proceeding well. I have had a few pangs of emotion about stepping away from coding. While I certainly didn’t develop our current product single handedly, far from it in fact, I do feel a strong ownership of the code and design. To turn that over has been hard. I know that our team is excellent and will do great, but there is a desire to be back in the trenches. However, the new challenges are really exciting and I believe I will do some good.

I don’t know why this is turning into a life update post, but I will plow ahead anyway. I had a visit from dear old friend and ex-girlfriend this week. It is strange how the ties of intimacy are hard to break with time. She and I ended our relationship almost seven years ago, but there is still that desire every time we meet. Maybe it’s just old regrets or new loneliness. However, I think it has more to do with that choice of intimacy that makes those ties so strong. Yeah, I’m back on that moment thing . . . Love is not an emotion. The emotion is the byproduct of a decision. Actually, it’s a recognition. The choice of love is the recognition of the beauty, the greatness, the nobility of another. While that recognition is on a scale of experience (your first girlfriend is almost never your last), the recognition is almost always correct in some way and that choice is in some ways irrevocable.

Jeez, I’m rambling, I don’t know why I felt the urge to write. However, before I get too silly I’ll call it off for tonight. More soon . . .

[Listening to: Beatiful People – Rusted Root – When I Woke (04:11)]