construction update

March 30 2008


the addition to the house is coming along.

the biggest news is that the klansman is now apparently the construction foreman.

my complacency created a middle manager.




i went to 12 years of catholic school. so, of course, now i don’t practice any religion. i’m kinda like the guys who work at baskin-robbins that don’t eat ice cream after the first week on the job…

…it’s just too much.

but even wayward christians seem to go to church on easter.

the holiday and last week’s obama speech on race have me thinking about the power of the spoken word.

when i saw this video of ms. taylor, it reminded me of the passion and desire to connect with your fellow brothers and sisters that a good revival meeting can inspire.

her speech is not religious per se; but it does remind me of the emotional power an inspired preacher, or speaker in her case, can bring to an audience.

i teared-up listening to her because i felt the intensity of the self-revelation she was trying to explain and remind us of.

Brava to her
kumbaya to you

mommy, i’m scared.

March 19 2008

i don’t know why i’ve been on a computer-related writing kick lately.

on that front, this video scared the crap out of me.

in 5 years when that thing has a laser gun and my credit report, i’m a dead man.

nice knowin’ ya.

i’m gonna go hide in the woods for a while.



the ingles database has given me a look into the future.

do you think my ben and jerry’s ice cream discount was subsidized by the medical industrial complex? …kinda like a pusher gives kids a couple of free samples before he starts charging for the meth.

“here, lil’ bro, have some chunky monkey.”
“wow! thanks, mister.”
“when you need your blood sugar checked, you know where to come, right?”
“uh…, yeah. sure. …do you have an extra spoon”
“ok, here you go. now move along. …who’s next?”

$1.52 every once in a while can quickly be recovered in blood sugar monitor and syringe sales.

…and, No!, smartie-pants… i didn’t have all 4 pints at once while watching shawshank redemption with the lights off and a box of tissues next to me on the bed.

i rejoined netflix last week. since they are now competing against apple tv, they offer unlimited movie downloads in addition to their usual dvd rental through the mail.

95% of the downloadable films are crap; stuff you’d skip over if you were old school channel surfing.

the troubling part of modern netflix recommendation algorithms is the ‘we think you’d like…’ movie lists.

let’s say you’re a 13-year old queer kid in rural western north carolina with a family netflix account. Maybe you download some alternative lifestyle documentary while mom is at the dollar palace.

you might end up with the above recommendation list on the home screen when mom logs on to put her 700 Club 20th anniversary disc in the dvd queue. i’m going out on a limb to say, ‘no straight teen is going to have that particular list made for him’.

lil’ billy is gonna have a lot of explaining to do.

he won’t have to wait until the thanksgiving break of his sophomore year of college to come out to granny. netflix’s computers have made sure of that.

watching 2001: A Space Odyssey was the first time I noticed the danger of a computer out-thinking us mere humans.



Dave Bowman: Hello, HAL do you read me, HAL?
HAL: Affirmative, Dave, I read you.
Dave Bowman: Open the pod bay doors, HAL.
HAL: I’m sorry Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that.
Dave Bowman: What’s the problem?
HAL: I think you know what the problem is just as well as I do.
Dave Bowman: What are you talking about, HAL?
HAL: This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.
Dave Bowman: I don’t know what you’re talking about, HAL?
HAL: I know you and Frank were planning to disconnect me, and I’m afraid that’s something I cannot allow to happen.
Dave Bowman: Where the hell’d you get that idea, HAL?
HAL: Dave, although you took thorough precautions in the pod against my hearing you, I could see your lips move.

it’s 2008. fiction is now reality. time to get really scared.

who knows what computers have figured out about me and who they’ve told.

don’t worry about me. i’ll be fine. but cross your fingers for young billy; or ms. billie, for that matter.

fill my hole

March 9 2008


(oh, puns. i am powerless against the power of the pun.)

my hole is now full of something that looks like a building.

but there is still a little room around the edges of my hole.

my hole has to be approved by the city’s inspectors before it can be completely filled-in.

come on, mr. inspector. help me fill it up!

oh, yeah! mr inspector, sign that form and complete me!

i left new york for the same reason mrs. jackson likes to shop at the dollar palace.

after a certain age, you just don’t feel like putting on a show for the neighbors.

for example, if you’re not planning on seeing the same people over the next few days, or even a week, let’s say, what’s the point of changing clothes everyday?

a nice pair of scrubs can take you from day to evening and back to day again.

if your bits ‘n pieces don’t stink, why bother?

Sparkle, Neely! Sparkle!” is a hard lifestyle to maintain.

i don’t fit into any of my ten suits thanks to this newfound respect of drawstrings pants and ingles’ bakery department.

i’m tired; admittedly, not as tired as mrs. jackson, but tired nonetheless.

i just want to sit and have cake.