gather your mp3s into one place, shuffle them, list the first 20.
01. The Smashing Pumpkins - Snail
02. The Beatles - For No One
03. elvis presley - a fool such as i
04. Portishead - Sour Times
05. Tomahawk - Rape This Day
06. Led Zeppelin - Ramble On
07. Elysian Fury - mikebrittimprov
08. Deftones - Minerva
09. Danny Elfman - With These Hands [Performed by Tom Jones]
10. Modest Mouse - Sleepwalkin'
11. Aphex Twin - Funny Little Man
12. Neil Young - Harvest Moon
13. Sonic Youth - Anagrama
14. Steve Reich - Section II
15. DJ Shadow - Monosylabik
16. Coldplay - The Scientist
17. System Of A Down - Atwa
18. Radiohead - The National Anthem [Live from I Might Be Wrong]
19. Boards of Canada - Basefree
20. Terry Riley - Desert Ice
in other news, my basement studio is now finished completely rigged up. I am absurdly excited.
What a strange dream. Gosia was on her way over, but I needed to run out and get something. Somehow I made a wrong turn right as the black horse pike turns into 42 and ended up driving up this small, broken, spiraling road in the median. Something happened to my car and then I was on foot. The 42 median is apparently more wild and dangerous than I remember it being. Or at least my psyche thinks so. I start jumping down from rock to rock and I land in front of some kind of animal cave in which something is stirring. I get spooked and start running.
Out of nowhere I come to a river/stream/highway runoff trough type waterway (another element of the 42 median I can't seem to recall actually existing). I grab my raft (yes. my raft.) and jump in and start floating downstream back towards twp. Some pirate shanty-type song starts playing about the 42 median runoff trough and how filthy it is. And then....
I wash up in Venezuela where I'm found by a very nice couple who own a restaurant and take me in (and I thought 42 just went to Atlantic City!). We have a good old time speaking in our native languages and flexing our brains to figure out what one another is saying. They never say how long I can stay or if I can stay at all and I'm kind of nervous about that. Then Gosia's there. She had apparently accompanied me through my whole voyage, despite her not having actually accompanied me through my whole voyage (don't question the brain. it is wise and unknowable.). With the best of interests in mind, she writes up some kinda document that states our entire reason for being (something about scouting). Thing of it was, Gosia seemed to give our Venezuelen friends a lot more credit in their english language skills than maybe she should of because they looked at her document and just shrugged. So I did charades. Scouting was done by running and "claiming this land for spain!" (they're Venezuelen! Surely they know their history!)
....Then Simon realized the sun was up and started having conversations with himself in Robot-ese.
I need to post about last nightn (that is, the stuff that happened *before* I went to bed), but no time. Going to Anna'a graduation party. Perhaps later tonight.
Jesus Lord. Amazing how quickly things turn around. Not three or four days ago I loathe to get out of bed. But past few days have been great. Especially last night. Of course... I'm sure it has a great deal to do with the fact that I finally got my adderall prescription filled. For me it's not only anti-ADD, but it's anti-depression and anti-anxiety. The uber drug, if you will.
Even still, it was just great. We actually got to do fun shit in our physics labs (circuits! oooO!), then I met up with gosia, luna, mandy, jeff, nick, evan, matt lerro, and kristin bodine at ott's for a few drinks. Headed back to nick and jeff's and Mandy gave me a bunch of awesome iPod accessories she had extras of. Then we had an NES marathon.
I am the greatest Hogan's Alley shooter ever. You hear me? Ever.
Then what started as a few rounds of landing on one another in Super Mario Three to play the original Mario Bros (where the turtles and crabs and flies come out of pipes at the top and you've got the POW button and junk) with nick turned into a FOUR HOUR SUPER MARIO 3 MARATHON@#$!@#
It ended in the death of bowser. Amen.
What was truly amazing was that I've never actually played a game of Mario 3 where I didn't do all the work while Luigi just stole all the fucking mushroom huts. Nick and I tore the whole thing up. Apparently, his specialty is the slow-scrolling, cannons everywhere, air-ship and tank type boards, which worked out quite nicely cause I suck at them (I'm far too impatient and my timing sucks). I, on the other hand, rock the stages that are easiest to beat REALLY FAST (I generally never let go of the B button). Together, Nick and I create <echo>ONE AWESOME FIGHTING FORCE</echo>
Major calc II test Monday that I'm feeling fairly unprepared for so I think Ima go study now.
as posted on her journal:
1-How do the Polish make their individually-unique vodkas, and would you ever consider making your own?
Y'know... i have no idea how they make the actual vodka. I know it's very similar to moonshine. Then they take some wild cherrires, usually grown right in their backyard, and flavor it. That's just one kind. Ends up tasting like really really alcoholic cough syrup, but not gross.
2-Do you think you'll ever just disappear off into nature and leave behind all of your technologically-based knowledge?
I think about it every day. At the moment, too much is going right. But should things go awry, I'd say there's actually a pretty damned good chance. I'd either head up to Canada or someplace somewhat third world like Romania.
3-What are some of your ideas for what your binary-code tattoo might say?
I've always wanted a quote to live by; something that I feel sums up my view of life and all our experiences to some degree. I've yet to find one. I also had the idea of actually making it a program that infinitely loops, where the context being looped would be a single word like "vigilance" or "question everything." But so far, I haven't been stable enough to stick to one thing. In time, i suppose.
4-Do you have any regrets?
Some guilt... but never regret. I've never really understood the whole concept of regret. It's completely futile. What happened happened and can't be changed. I might as well regret not being able to fly.
5-What was your favourite candy as a child? How about now?
I'd have to say home-made mint flavored rock candy. As a child *and* now.
So that's that. I'm now supposed to pass this along. Comment if you want five questions.
I spent the better part of last night shopping for hunting knives, fishing gear, and survival guides. Why? For spring break.
Yes. Spring break. My dear friend Paris (who I think has a journal and if I knew the goddam link I'd put it here) invited me on exactly the sort of trip I've been wanting (and trying) to take for as long as I can remember. We're going to live off the land for a week in upstate New York. He told me about it last night while we were drinking. In a "pinch me" type reaction, I told him I wouldn't take the invite seriously unless he invited me while sober sometime later. So I got a call the next day. Rad.
I really could not be any more excited about this. I ended up buying the
US Army Survival Manual and I have a coupla hunting knives picked out I have to decide on. I also found an amazing page that may very well have been put together by a bunch of crazy, gun-toting michigan militia types. But it's got a shitload of useful do-it-yourself info, so who gives a shit? This weekend I start brushing up on building a campfire in a wet environment with no matches.
It's interesting, however, how many nerdy, computers/math/science guys are into this sort of thing. Maybe it's our disconnection with the outdoors from all the time spent inside reading, writing, and coding, or some sad attempt to maintain the same kind of masculine credo more physical occuptations have by default. I've thought about it quite a bit and come to the conclusion that I just don't give a shit. I want some goddam adventure and the good stories that'll come with it. I want to be humbled by nature and the inevitable havok she will wreak on our bodies.
This is gonna be awesome.
Billy, he's down by the railroad tracks
Sittin' low in the back seat of his Cadillac
Diamond Jackie, she's so intact
She falls so softly beneath him
Jackie's heels are stacked, Billy's got cleats on his boots
Together they're gonna boogaloo down Broadway and come back home with the loot
It's midnight in Manhattan, this is no time to get cute
It's a mad dog's promenade
So walk tall, or baby, don't walk at all
Fish lady, fish lady, fish lady, she baits them tenement walls
She won't take corner boys, ain't got no money and they're so easy
I said, "Hey baby, won't you take my hand, walk me down Broadway
I'm a young man and I talk real loud, yeah baby, walk real proud for you
So shake it away, so shake away your street life
And hook up to the train
Hook up to the night train
Hook it up, hook up to the, hook up to the train"
But I know that she won't take the train
No, she won't take the train
No, she won't take the train
No, she won't take the train
She's afraid them tracks are gonna slow her down
And when she turns, this boy'll be gone
So long, sometimes you just gotta walk on
Hey vibes man, hey jazz man, play me your serenade
Any deeper blue and you're playin' in your grave
Save your notes, don't spend 'em on the blues boy
Save your notes, don't spend 'em on the darlin' yearlin' sharp boy
Straight for the church note ringin', vibes man sting a trash can
Listen to your junk man
Listen to your junk man
Listen to your junk man
Listen to your junk man
He's singin', singin', singin', singin'
All dressed up in satin, walkin' past the alley
Watch out for your junk man
Watch out for your junk man
Watch out for your junk man
Every generation feels like they're eve of the next big thing; that right around the corner is the neu-rennaisance that will change our world forever. We believe this because we are self-important and because foresight travels near the speed of light. We know that things will happen and, in our willful ignorance, we assume we will live to see it all go down. This assumption, however, will drive many people to complacency and bitterness as we grow old and realize our dreams were nothing more than idealistic pulp fiction. Or worse, that they've mutated into something horrible through greed and corruption. There's a museum in seattle dedicated to "The Future That Never Was" with models and drawings of flying cars, jet packs, plastic furniture, and meals in pill form. Our parents pushed the rise of flower power, watched it crash and burn, and bought into retro fads 25 years later.
So where are we? It certainly seems different than it was then. They say our intellectual evolution has increased exponentially, so maybe? Maybe we will see the future we've been promised before we grow old and die. There's a team of mad scientists in Nevada trying to stop the deterioration of red blood and brain cells. Nano-technology promises microscopic intracellular robots programmed to fight disease, repair our nerves and regenerate our immune system. If we can't innovate quick enough, perhaps we can outlast our conservative beaurocracy and it's retarding effect on our evolution. The news wire is full of maniacs shouting things like "unnatural" and "god's will" when confronted with idea of extending our lifespan and to them I say "Fine with me! Good riddance!" We'll outlast those cranial dinosaurs as well.
It could be all hype. Perhaps the bursting of the internet bubble was just foreshadowing to a much greater technological cataclysm. We don't yet know the limits of our human brain. Who's to say we've already reached it and we just haven't realized it yet? In the words of Melvin Udall, "what if this is as good as it gets?" I don't know about you, but I'd go back to flower power. Grow me a paoti farm, tune in, turn off, drop out. Without a stronger, smarter, progressive society to look forward, those dirty hippies would be the only ones still smiling. Them and the filthy rich, guilt monger clergymen selling hope like they did in the dark ages. Fuck those assholes. At least I've still got something tangible to look forward to.
But no... maybe I'm just a young, stupid idealist but I don't think we are the doomed. Not yet. Generations before us have failed to find their utopias, but we are growing exponentially, despite the best efforts of our ever loving mass media. For now, I've got a great deal of hope for the future and I'm excited at the possibility that I may have some part in in it, however small. The Great W. Satan may have given up on our planet, but he's never been one to finish a job anyhow. He'll quit before he's completely fucked us all over and the earth will be inherited by the bright. I'm looking forward to it.
As soon as I say "no more" I suddenly have a lot to think about. Well, no. Nothings' really changed. Except me. I've just found myself thinking a great deal more than I have been in recent months. Things like my ADD and how it should be dealt with, bipolar bear and why I think it's all wrong. I worry constantly about my friends and all the mistakes I think they're making, as though I'm some kind of pillar of wisdom. The one person I feel I have some kind of right or obligation to worry about, Gosia (I often feel I'm overstepping some sort of boundary by worrying about others), I worry about very little because despite bad luck in the career department, being stuck at home, and her smoking, she seems to have it together better than any of us. If anyone's going anywhere without my help, it's her. And she's my girlfriend of over 5 years. What the hell does that mean?
I had a dream I pulled out my last three teeth last night. I was worrying about Jeff before bed. I'm terrified he's just going to fall in love with the next crazy manipulative bitch he meets and get hurt again. I'm almost dead certain he will. He never saw through Sue's bullshit (oh man and if I ever get a chance to say all the things i've always wanted to say to her....). It's only been a month and he's on like he's been healing for a year. I don't want to say all things happen for a reason cause it would naturally follow that there's some kind of preordained plan, which I certainly don't agree with. But I definitely think there's something to be learned from everything. I've learned quite a bit from Jeff's relationship history. I've always been right there with him to some degree. But I wonder how much education he's really had... Could I have learned more being that I'm in a more objective position? Can we ever be objective about ourselves?
I haven't been to a bipolar bear practise in over a month. The last practise I was at we made a live recording, which everyone was very excited about afterwords. I hated it. Any time I would broach any of my concerns with Mike, he'd have very quick, very well thought out, and, in my humble opinion, very stupid answers. I don't mean to sound harsh, but Mike knows I love him like a brother so I hope I can afford such brutal honesty. I often ask myself: "Why is someone as distant from the general mindset of the unwashed masses (as most brilliant artist-types are) making decisions about pop music and performance?" I think Mike is much more qualified to say what someone should like, rather than what they would like. What struck me the hardest, though, was that not a single one of the songs we've done to date has come anywhere remotely close to being as good as his original, one-man-band recordings. These songs should not have acoustic drums. These songs should not be reworked and compromised to fit a five-person band. Most importantly, these songs are not something that people would want to hear live. At least not without already being familiar with them. Many of mike's songs are up there on my top 50 all time favorite songs and I would be bored to tears if I had to watch them be performed on a stage.
Then again... a lot of people go see Tori Amos shows. So maybe I'm just talking out of my ass.
A month into school and I'm burnt out. I'm still writing cause to stop writing would be to go to bed. Going to bed would speed the passing of today into tommorow where a great deal of school work waits for me. Then Monday. And class.
I want out. Of all of this. I want out of Rowan, out of all my various projects and responsibilities. I want out of New Jersey. Head up to Canada and get a job doing tech support. Or move to France and wait tables. Just something else.
Yeah, so, I'm definitely done with this journal business. Why? Cause it's got no function left.
All the techny, nerdy stuff goes on the rowan acm site
All the business stuffy will eventually be going on my personal site which is not yet functional or contains any content but will at some point should I decide it's necessary.
And all the miscellaneous whatever fun shit goes on the scrabbled.
So that's that. And should I ever feel the urge to start getting into my personal thoughts and feelings, I'll just get a livejournal. Though I really don't see that happening any time soon. I can't imagine anyone but the people I already talk to on a regular basis would actually want to read what I have to say about the world. And, despite my uber-techiness, I value a real face-to-face conversation much more than I do a couple of comments to some stream-of-conciousness rant. I'm not trying to get laid and I've got plenty of friends.
Vanity, acceptance, and sex, none of which I need or desire any more of at the moment. Are there really any other reasons to have a personal blog?