May 25, 2004

The computer investment of just short of three years back needs a new harddrive and associated drivers (corrupted beyond possibility of repair). The warranty expired after two years. Other than that, it is in perfect working order. (The operation was a success, but the patient died.) Still trying to sort out restored and creatively re-created files. Still trying to find my MS Office disk to restore dead programmes. (There was a rather urgent boxing and storing of items mid-last year.) Rather grateful, at least, that the various back-and-forth transports of computer-related equipment managed to avoid deluge.

There is an irony: in that in having given up the office Internet access (budgetary considerations), not one of the recent viruses and worms slipped its way into the office computer ... even though my recent correspondance with newly discovered relatives tried very hard to so gift me: not one of those e-mail addresses missed trying to send out those attachments, and some tried more than once. I cannot say that I particularly mind having missed Sasser. Hopefully it will be something of a protection for others from anything I might have acquired, in that I don't keep address books.

Of the usual fourteen-odd projects, some had been delayed due to lack of computer, others due to lack of electricity, most due to lack of time. As of mid-last week, I had been utterly caught up in all except my own writing -- that being in longhand for the short-term foreseeable future: some sporadically webbed/posted, some continually edited/revised in longhand, and some joining the reams of longhand odd notes spilling over in odd piles in and around office and home which I intend to sort out ... eventually.

It has taken all of a single week to fall behind again.

(Just as well I never sought the position of timely "pundit": although that would be much easier, just read through articles and plug into the appropriate 'ism. I don't seek support or confirmation of a personal 'ism, just understanding of myself and the world around me. I don't ask for much, I know.)

Especially, correspondance and extended debate absorbs time. Something about my writing, something about what I write or the way I write it, seems to catch others, and I don't know why. (It now happens sometimes with face-to-face encounters also, but not nearly as often: and not at all until I began writing -- communicating with others, on the Internet -- in earnest.) I don't have very much worth saying, let alone anything truly original -- the more I open my mouth of late, the more I feel as through I am just repeating myself and others and what seems to me, well, obvious (although by its very nature what is "obvious" should be what is most suspect) -- but for some reason others seem to think I do. Years I spent trying to undercut any implied authority for what I say: and yet strangers begin threads of discussion, and are ignored; while I transfer some of my thoughts to begin threads, and am answered almost immediately and in kind. It is not that my thoughts have any greater value!

Yet, answered: and then I wish -- need, within myself -- to give due consideration to what has been written: and that is not a fast thing.

Don't get me wrong: I am not placing a value on the time. Even were I to submit to absolute and abstract value hierarchy, what "better" use could I see for time, than to communicate with others - to seek community? The irony here is that the more I succeed in reaching out, the less I am physically able to invest into individual contact. I have discovered that I tend to be unique in the Internet chat format because I always try to give that attention uniquely: communication, not sidenote distraction. What another has to say is always due my attention, and, so far as I am able, I will give it.

Inevitably, those who write more end up gaining more of my time. It is not that their thoughts have any greater value ... but they do have greater effect in binding my attention; and in so binding, in keeping my attention from other people and other things. I find limits, here. I would wish to give full attention to all, but I cannot. It is very nearly the exact opposite of boredom: filled to capacity, beyond filled ... and what slips quietly, invisibly, through the cracks? Will I ever know?

Life, it seems, demands filtres, if only to retain the capacity to act without being drowned in the now.

Yet those filtres also give shape to what can be perceived, and thus to the action. Whom could I trust, not to be who they are (for I can always trust people to be that!), but to choose the information upon which I base my own identity? Whom could I trust to write letters to which I could set my signature? Whom do I trust to decide which datum is important, and which not?

Either our world has grown too vast and change too fast for human comprehension, or human comprehension stands poised on the verge of a sweeping alteration of the nature of cognition.

Either way: it is easiest to seek refuge in solitaire.

Smile of the day: THE RULES
  1. The Female always makes THE RULES.

  2. THE RULES are subject to change without notice.

  3. No Male can possibly know all THE RULES.

  4. If the Female suspects the Male knows all THE RULES, she must immediately change some of THE RULES.

  5. The Female is never wrong.

  6. If it appears the Female is wrong, it is because of a flagrant misunderstanding caused by something the Male did or said wrong.

  7. If Rule 6 applies, the Male must apologise immediately for causing the misunderstanding.

  8. The Female can change her mind at any time.

  9. The Male must never change his mind without the express, written consent of The Female.

  10. The Female has every right to be angry or upset at any time.

  11. The Male must remain calm at all times, unless the Female wants him to be angry or upset.

  12. The Female must, under no circumstances, let the Male know whether she wants him to be angry or upset.

  13. The Male is expected to read the mind of the Female at all times.

  14. At all times, what is important is what the Female meant, not what she said.

  15. If the Male doesn't abide by THE RULES, it is because he can't take the heat, lacks backbone, and is a wimp.

  16. If the Male, at any time, believes he is right, he must refer to Rule #5.

  17. Every house belongs to the oldest female living there.

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