try as they might they cannot steal your dreams 

note to self: when a road diverges in the woods, opt for the path that is *not* the geek route in relation to blog posts.

sorry bout that last entry. originally i had only intended to spend a fraction of the post dedicated to my computer, while the rest of the babble was gonning to ideally cover a variety of topics that have been on my mind in recent days.

obviously that didn't seem to happen.

i've still got some stuff to go over, but first order of business is that i gotta sort some shit out in my mind and come to grips with a few of the thoughts that are currently zooming about in chaotic fashion deep inside the squishy layers of my brain before i can relate them to you in a somewhat comprehendable fashion.

but in the meantime, you can take yourself here a gander at what i have been devoting my time to as of late....

and in case you happened to somehow miss the links that were intersperced throughout the previous paragraph, a courtesy link for you all. don't say i done never didn't give you nuthin'.

now... if i can just force my body to re-establish a sleeping pattern that doesn't involve me staying wide awake until *after* four am....

  • 1.19.2005

    i can't stand to reason or surrender to a reflex 

    recently, my computer has begun to complain and moan once again, expressing a degree of physical displeasure. it was about a year or so ago that my nerves were finally whittled away enough to the point where i had no other choice but to go out and buy a new heatsink and cooling fan in order to appease the faithful processor that slaves away dutifully inside my lumbering tower. when i had bought the motherboard and chip a couple years ago from a friend, the ball bearings in the cpu cooling fan had already long since passed their prime, and while the blades continued to spin and deliver refreshingly cool air to the super heated patties of silicon, they did so in a most noisy fashion.

    as in, it sounded like somebody was grinding up the bones of charlamagne in my room. normally i prefer to have some low volume music playing in the background while i attempt to sleep throughout the night, but doing so with this particular distraction was damn near next to impossible. most nights i would simply have to shut off the machine (i hate turning off a computer – i equate it to killing a living organism), knowing full well that in the morning when i booted her up again, the sound would intensify significantly since the ball bearings in the fans had managed to cool down enough that they produced even more friction against each other.

    many times i was smart enough to leave the computer running for a long enough period while i was away at work that the fans would settle and finally stop making a horrendous sound, but every now and again something would disturb the fragile balance and my computer would again begin groaning like an overweight man performing an intestinal sonata.

    thankfully, this condition was not actually resulting in any malignant harm to my system or its functionality; the obnoxious sound was really the only offshoot to this. so long as all the proper components were being kept below their respective melting points, my system really didn’t give a shit how loud it was. this is part of the reason as to why i delayed resolving the situation for such a long time.

    since it wasn’t actually injuring anything, i didn’t really feel there was any justification for opening up the case, pulling the processor out, removing the old hardware and replacing it with a more efficient cpu cooling device. instead my brilliant deduction was simply to smack the side of my case until finally the jarring vibrations from beating on my poor tower would cause the fans to settle properly and cease with their banshee like symphony. when even this preventative measure eventually failed to handle the matter, i finally did go out and replace the damned things, much to my computer’s delight. section b of my reluctance to intelligently resolve the problem the right way in the first place involves the utter terror that tackles me whenever i have to open up my computer in order to correct something amiss – usually my hands pose more danger when fiddling inside the workings of my precious than they do when on they are safely on the outside (although i have been known to royally hose the config files for several operating system partitions).

    the most prominent cause for such fears comes from a tail of woe involving my first personally owned computer. for several years prior to graduating from high school, i had been content enough to divvy up my computing time with the rest of the family on the trusty old communal four eighty six that i at times now miss quite dearly (although i still have the motherboard and processor for *that* computer boxed up somewhere in the garage). after we made the journey of moving up to northern california from redondo beach, i decided that it was beyond time for me to acquire my own private system, lest my family accidentally stumble upon the massive stockpile of pornographic materials i had been archiving away for years (and dad always wondered why we had such little free space left).

    at a time when memory chips tended to cost a bloody fortune, the particular desktop unit that managed to grace my desires came equipped with a (then) nearly unheard of whopping one hundred and twenty eight megabytes of pure adrenaline charged horses. photoshop nearly shit itself the first time i loaded it up on this brand new box, and i began to experience the incredible nirvana that develops when you truly have the tools to match your tasks. i was enraptured in total bliss.

    until the day i decided it would be a good idea to install the old hard drive from our now deceased four eighty six into my computer and increase the overall storage space (and provide me with the most cost effective solution towards transferring all of the porn i had amassed back in the day onto my new system). thankfully, a good friend of mine who was most savvy with computer hardware monkeying happened to be visiting from out of town, and together we set upon the task of upgrading my system into an even more beefy powerhouse. everything was set, and any additional accessories that were required of such an operation had already been secured from the palo alto fry’s.

    sadly, this triumph was not to be. after several frustrating hours we discovered in defeat that the controller card for my hard drive (yes, this system was *that* old) did not support more than one device attached since compaq at the time insisted on refusing to grant their systems the resources of managing between a slave and a master drive. regardless of the combinations of jumpers, cables, and dip switches that we jimmied with, the computer simply would not acknowledge that there were now two hard drives at its disposal. hell, it no longer even read from the *original* drive. giving up for the time being, we decided to remove the dual drive cable that we had installed, and attempted to get my computer to at least hopefully recognize the primary hard drive and allow me to continue on in my digital misadventures, albeit lacking the additional space and access to the storehouse of porn that our success would have yielded.

    funny thing about the old compaq computer case designs is this; the controller card for ide devices happened to be located directly above the bios chip (a very important item, for those who are not down with the “know”), and in order to remove any cables, one had to use a leverage device of sorts to pop stubborn cables out of the very tight connector socket. a tool like a screwdriver, perhaps. a metal screwdriver. one whose blade while under my direction just so happened to come into solid contact with the surface of the bios chip (very bad), discharging a fair amount of static electricity directly into the innocent circuit pathways (extremely bad) and completely frying every last thing connected to the motherboard (apocalyptically awful). memory. central processor. cache. *everything.*

    the damn thing was toasted, effectively reduced to an eleven pound one foot by two foot by one foot paperweight. so went my first personally owned computer experience.

    by now i have hopefully become at least somewhat more respectful of the delicate nature of computer hardware, and i dare not meddle too much with the actual physical items contained within – instead i delight in poking around in the root settings for all the different components and making disastrous alterations to the code strings (although in all honesty, i only *once* fucked up a computer’s software to the point where it needed to be completely reformatted). i also have since wisely learned to back up any archive worthy porn in at least several locations.

    yet now my current computer has begun indicating that the last few weeks of life draw close for these newer cooling fans, necessitating that i trudge out to the most unholy of peripheral suppliers, and drop another twenty bucks to appease my processor since it seems to reap much joy in blowing through ball bearings as if they were deliciously succulent jaw breakers.

    although once again, for the moment at least, it seems to respond pretty well to being punched and kicked…

  • 1.15.2005

    we draw our own designs, but fortune has to make that frame 

    even though the last twenty four hours that i relished in having the house to myself were disappointingly void of scantily adorned (see: naked) members of the opposite sex, they were fairly enjoyable nonetheless as i scuttled about town to take care of a few errands.

    taking my cues from what surely i imagine miss becca would have suggested, i drove down to the friendly local ikea so that i might procure myself these amazing paper napkins that they stock. i dunno how they do it, but the damn things feel like cloth napkins, and they’re pretty in-expensive.

    although, i am fairly sure that you don’t come here because you care to read about my taste in table linens.

    wait… why *do* you come here?

    the rest of the day was composed of just a few other simple tasks that i had been in need of completing for some time now and had delayed up until that point in time. in other words, and utilizing considerably less words, i am one lazy fucker.

    originally my family was to return back on wednesday morning (obviously sans my brother, since the purpose for said voyage was to deliver him to the waiting arms of academia), yet they hit a not so convenient snag on the way to atlanta when the weather decided to shit itself all over for a while, thus delaying their arrival back home until far later on during the afternoon/early evening. i don’t envy being stuck in any airport for a period of six hours, especially after making the discovery that the carrier you were originally booked with only has *one* flight back to san francisco per day, and that ship had already left town quite some time ago. thankfully they were able to snag passage back on another faire, and touched down at a more convenient point in the day for me to pick them up from the airport, since doing so in the evening didn’t require my peeling my sorry self out of bed at an ungodly hour (hint: think eleven am originally).

    it’s always a disappointment when the bulk majority of incoming e-mail to your box are unintelligible proclamation for some new useless wonder product.

    very much so do i love my family, but they had not even returned to my local area for a full hour before i began to wish fondly for yet more of the peace and solitude i mostly squandered during the spare time i was granted over the weekend. gone now is the freedom to keep my bedroom door wide open while i play san andreas or half-life 2 at decibel levels that could have offended led zepplin. no longer can i bask in the luxury of pissing without worrying about closing the bathroom door, or wandering around the house with nothing but my skivvies on. the dream sadly is over, and reality has come kicking back with a tremendous vengeance.

    in theory, one could make a fairly convincing case out of the matter that if i happened to relish the putrid world that is independence, realistically i could continue to prolong such selfishly exotic bliss by heading out into the world and taking up residence in my own personal dwelling. however, those who are quick to suggest the connection between my supposed orgasmic glee and living without the residential provisions of my parents fail to understand just how utterly destructive such a concept can be. were i to force myself into the harshly unforgiving world and stake my claim upon any dwelling and thus occupy it, the chances are severely potent that ultimately i would find myself doing nothing more constructive than lazily over-sleeping like a bum, and consuming the rest of my waking hours engaged with pointlessly hollow pursuits.

    which brings about the current reflections with which i re-examine the purpose of my seemingly wasteful existence. most of the career aspirations that i half-heartedly strive towards generally are met with enough skepticism from those that i associate with by means of their illustrating just how prominent the failure rates are in my chosen avenues. lately it has come to bear that the very same people who encourage me to follow my dreams and attempt to achieve my absolute best are also more than willing to provide discouragement and cast doubt as to the veracity of that which i dream for.

    imagine a world in which nobody even bothers to try.

    yet i do wonder insistently; is there really any grandiose hope programmed in the stars for the one that is called i? buzz words like “career” and “profession” tend to freak me out, especially when used in reference to somebody who bides their time employed in a trade that i generally feel less than compelled towards. i think of all the throngs of citizens who shlepp themselves to and from countless occupations that are devoid of any pleasure or fullfillment, and how the increasing stress/depression levels of our nation continually whisper the hints of suggestions at how the majority of our society would rather find themselves under more desirable employment status.

    what *if* i am meant for only the mediocre? to toil hopelessly, bound by the chains of hourly wages and the purgatory of customer service that my scant few years of drawing paychecks has repeatedly drawn me back to. sure, there is a slim hope that one of the lofty fantasies that i recently have buried myself in mentally could at some point yield compensational fruit and blossom into the rosy future that i have desperately hoped for ever since i was a little child. but according to those that “know better,” really all i am doing is delaying the inevitable and avoiding the button pushing self loathing clerk that very likely will become of me by filling my head with fancy delusions of what could be given the proper alignment of circumstances. if only…

    thankfully, i am a stubborn shit head that rarely refuses to back down from whatever dumbass idea crawls into my mind, and really the only thing that this diatribe alludes to is that on a fairly regular basis (more so than i care), i allow myself to fall into the perception that there is no hope for the remainder of my life. deep down in my heart, i know that there is fortune and favor waiting further on down the line that is my future.

    it just happens to be taking its sweet mother fucking time in getting here.

  • 1.10.2005

    purposeful motion for one so insane 

    very truly i tell you, the face of anglo-saxon jesus hides in the tile work of my bathroom.

    in the past few months i may have repeatedly alluded to my bewilderment at the exponentially accelerating rate at which time seems to be flowing; it’s been progressively getting far worse. no sooner do i make one blog post than six or more fucking days go by and i’m scratching my head trying to determine what happened.

    it’s as if space time is playing tricks on me, and delights in the raping of my brain.

    as do many other things….

    of course, i suppose the fact that i sleep in until two in the afternoon fails to assist matters any further. lately i have been going to bed at about one in the morning, yet typically my body defiantly refuses to actually allow itself to succumb to slumber, and instead i lay awake confronting all the thoughts and musings that i attempted to bury deep inside and ignore throughout the previous day. perhaps this suppression might be why i can’t sleep all that well.

    or it could be that any remaining degree of support and comfort has long since vacated the couch upon which i lie dormant during my rather fanciful romps through the world of dreams.

    is it possible for a person to be contently satisfied with something, and at the same time, hopelessly disappointed with the same thing? i find myself staring down this paradox in the face more and more lately, as there just seems to be an even greater amount of circumstances with which this riddle holds true.

    take this weekend, for instance. for the first time in a long time, i have had the entire house to myself. friday morning saw my illness-recovering brother head off to florida for the spring semester of college, and along with him my parents and seamus to accompany him. until wednesday, this residence is solely my domain.

    this ideally would be the *perfect* time to conduct massive amounts of lewd activities in the company of naked horny women. sadly, there are none to be found. or rather, i didn’t bother to go out and look. instead i have passed the time by watching movies at hearing-loss inducing volumes, singing loudly (and poorly) to various songs in my music collection, hanging out with a few people regarding the new film and beginning preliminary budget talks, and setting up my drumkit in the living room in order that i might wail, and wail like mad.

    other than that, i have been alone with my thoughts. which is always a bad thing regardless of how you slice it. thankfully, there has been enough to distract me that i haven’t spent a hugely tremendous amount of time wallowing in the pits of my own depressing realizations, but rather only just enough to produce a rather mixed emotional feeling inside that could be likened to when your gut just doesn’t quite feel all that right and you wonder what you possibly could have ate to upset the delicate balance of your system.

    in some ways, i would like to think that the reason my life seems to be moving along at an increasing rate would be that i am getting closer to reaching significant portions of my destiny. there are those who would challenge the very existence of a predetermined order to the universe, but i hold firm to my ridiculous convictions nonetheless. in a way when you think about it, you can not alter that which is ultimately going to happen, because to some degree *something* is bound to happen along a linear path of time, and no matter what steps you might fool yourself into believing can prevent or deter those events, it will happen regardless.

    like death. death could be the prime example of a destiny – you are most certainly going to expire, and there is nothing can be done to sidestep this inevitability. it is one of the only constant truths (aside from birth) of the universe, at least until medical frontiers develop the solution to providing true immortality. the only variable that remains in the equation is the manner in which you will die. technically, there have been a mountain of instances in which i should have departed for the ether over the course of my life, yet somehow or other, either through dumb luck or an extraordinarily persistent guardian angel, i have managed to avoid each of these eliminations and continued on to the next advancing round.

    even though i concede that it could be considered a weak example at best, i still feel that death is the best argument towards destiny – it’s gonna happen, and nothings going to change that.

    unless of course if you believe that humans die only because we accept it as being unavoidable through the process of psychological predisposition. it has been theorized that the survival rates of police officers who had been struck by bullets during a gunfight coincide fairly consistently with the percentages of those who believed they had “been shot” or that they had “been hit.” perhaps there is some truth to mind over matter, in which case the answer for immortality may lie merely in our refusing to accept death as an alternative to the continuation of life.

    or maybe that is all just a smelly pile of bullshit.

    in either event, still one more full day yet remains for my dominion of solitude. any suggestions for amusing ways to pass my time?

  • 1.05.2005

    he gets right on to the friction of the day 

    when last we left our hero dante, the situation was supremely dire. with his finances drained, borderline comical issues involving interior plumbing, and the lack of romantic interests, the outcome is most certainly grim.

    but hark! to what possibilities does the future hold for our dear brethren? shall the fates conspire against him in their malicious effort to destroy his will and remove all hope? can he figure out a way to overcome that which he valiantly struggles against? will the lobster ever be able to swim again?!

    murder! mystique! romance! chorus girls!

    all this and more…. tune in again, here at brainfucked!

    (check your local listings for some arbitrary point in eastern time, a bit later for central and pacific)

  • This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

    Weblog Commenting and Trackback by HaloScan.com

    Blogarama - The Blog Directory Who Links Here