Godel - 10:52 p.m. , 2009-03-22 awake - 8:31 p.m. , 2008-08-20 Auspicious Omens - 3:06 p.m. , 2007-07-19 the never - 12:03 p.m. , 2007-07-18 vbs - 855788 , dfbhhj the insanity of trying to locate people from the distant past! what possesses me to waste my time in this fashion? i thought i wanted to find an old professor of mine, the one who suggested i read proust. i wanted to tell him, "yes, i read proust, the whole Remembrance of Time Past, or Time Recaptured, as they translate it now. definitely worth the trouble, may have even saved my life." but, of course, he was only a visiting professor back in the eighties. who knows where he is now? trapped in a corporate cubicle writing technical manuals? dead-drunk in a gutter? dead from the clap? god knows! the amount i know diminshes daily...i barely know where i am or where i'm going from day to day. the amount of disorder in the universe increases daily, most of it in my living room. perhaps he does not wish to be found? then i must honor this unvoiced request, and cease trying to summon the phantoms of my own past. they have better things to do. i had the idea this morning that the only thing of value i received in college was his advice to read proust. all the other droning lectures and endless reading and writing assignments were so many piles of shit to move from here to there. my degree is worthless; funny that i spared no expense in obtaining it. i thought it was somehow necessary, that its lack had somehow cast an evil curse on my pursuit of destiny. the truth remains when all the shit and mud have been sluiced away by the calamitous showers of misery and misfortune. your real life seems to happen while you're banging your head on the wall, trying to accomplish some hopeless task. it reminds me of all the stories i heard while trying to peddle various crap in my many sales jobs. all those colorful characters who never bought a goddamn thing! they were my true inheritance, my birthright, marked out for me in advance by an omnicient God who already knew that my serious goals of wealth accumulation would amount to zilch; "better load him up with something far more precious than mere money... let him find his way to kooks, cretins, lunatics and grinning felons... give him something to think about, while thwarting his work ethic with constant failure... work is antithetical to his innate nature that I the LORD have placed within him... it is injurious to his eternal, dreaming SOUL... far better for him to sup on tales of fantasy and disaster, thieves and skulduggery... I the HEAVENLY FATHER/MOTHER see the beginning and endings of all fruitless work in the hands of men... my favorite children are those that listen with their inner heart, who turn aside from the endless spinning grindstone of human activity, who spend their days in idle contemplation of birds and trees, who fish, who drink and laugh and swear and spin nonsense into even greater absurdity. Blessed be my children who live life without a plan, who have learned to doubt their own Creator, for theirs is already the Kingdom of Heaven. Already, they send their spirits on wild flights of fantasy, soaring into the ethereal cosmos of buffoonery of all sorts, imagining impossible things and teaching others to Believe that they might do likewise. Already, they sleep the sleep of the dead, dreaming endless dreams that penetrate the very heart of the meaning of all things, which they promptly forget each morning. Blessed are these my children, who gloriously waste the time allotted them by scribbling nonsense into holy books, who ignore the dictates of commonsense and rational behavior. Blessed are these, my beloved children, for whom i created the universe and the beginning of time and all things. Blessed are my children, who in their stupidity and foolishness, avoid the soul-numbing stupidities of work and effort created by a civilization that has lost the essential connection between itself and the Divine." God knows what it is i need most... apparently not money or success, but a diet of absurdities and foolishness, and a propensity to laugh at the expense of the wise. These are my beatitudes, the legacy of my loving Father. Thanks, Dad.
the heavenly beatitudes of Steve
Main Entry: plas�tic�i�ty
Pronunciation: pla-'sti-s&-tE
Function: noun
Date: circa 1783
1 : the quality or state of being plastic; especially : capacity for being molded or altered
2 : the ability to retain a shape attained by pressure deformation
3 : the capacity of organisms with the same genotype to vary in developmental pattern, in phenotype, or in behavior according to varying environmental conditions
NOOER
wicked old stuff