Up really early again, kind of enjoying the fog, P isn't quite himself, very needy, just washed his back with warm damp cloth, will put on more ointment later. There's no swelling and the injured area doesn't seem particularly tender anymore, hope there's no long term effect on his ability to interact with other dogs.

Yesterday started with ridiculous work emergency, took hours to sort out, also spent some time dealing with work issues not really related to my job, then when I thought I was done, got another call from work over semiemergency, thankfully was able to sort that one out over phone. Managed to stay the hell away from computers for the rest of the day anyway. One of these days- real weekend, cell phone off, elsewhere doing something that doesn't involve computers or at least me fixing them, preferably does involve skee ball, tasty food, conversations on topics of interest.

Would be hard to overstate how unsettling P getting attacked has been, feel very out of sorts.

Peretz got puncture wound in back last night, attacked by ~150 lb. dog left loose by owner while she dug around in the back of her truck. 'He's never done that before,' was the claim, dog ran right up to P and tore directly into his back, makes me kind of doubt it. Probably some sort of parent here for the weekend. Fuck them all.

P seemed basically OK, a little out of sorts, cleaned wound with alcohol, antibiotic ointment brought by pal, he seems more OK this morning.

Slow progress on unfamiliar autumnal farm share produce continues, baking sweet potato pies, have squash and root vegetable green curry planned for some point, tomorrow probably. Really fucking exhausted, more to do on weekend than during week, should be a crash coming, but it really should've happened already, so maybe not. Just walked Peretz out in the sunny chill in my shirtsleeves, bit nippy.

Some sort of multicollege parents/prospective students convergence is making it nearly impossible to drive anywhere, renewed hatred of out of state plates despite how long I had one myself, hypocrite, that's me.

Trying to get my head around the day, lots to do, operating purely on nervous energy, sometimes nervous is good. Dishes, baking, pet care, various arrangements to be made, web sites to maintain, people to try to assist, what else?

Peretz is wandering the house, looking for something?

Listening to Donovan again, should figure out something else to listen to.

Whoever's in charge of these things- less clichés like 'Everything happens for a reason,' more like 'Nothing human is alien to me,' thanks.

Compare Emerson on mood with Sacks on proverbs:

"Our moods do not believe in each other. To-day I am full of thoughts, and can write what I please. I see no reason why I should not have the same thought, the same power of expression, to-morrow. What I write, whilst I write it, seems the most natural thing in the world; but yesterday I saw a dreary vacuity in this direction in which now I see so much; and a month hence, I doubt not, I shall wonder who he was that wrote so many continuous pages. Alas for this infirm faith, this will not strenuous, this vast ebb of a vast flow! I am God in nature; I am a weed by the wall."

"Now for proverbs, I take it that one of the core features of their sense and of their use is that they are 'atopical' phenomena. So, for example, the sense and relevance of 'a rolling stone gathers no moss' is not found by reference to geological or botantical considerations. Some of the work of of the neuropsychologist Kurt Goldstein and his associates may be relevant here. One of the things they've found for children, brain-damaged persons, and sometimes among schizophrenics is that a kind of test devised by psychologists indicates that these people cannot handle proverbs- they don't understand them, they don't know how to use them. There are many protocols of persons presented with a proverb and asked to interpret it, and they produce long discussions about various features and behaviors of, for example, stones and moss."

These things are important, but hard to keep fully in mind.

Anyway, need to walk the dog, the day looks to be a beautiful one, wish there weren't so much sadness in it.

MPAA offers aid & support to antigay hate group

Found a copy of that trash talk after all, here it is:

'I have not produced a translation of "Jabberwocky". I tried to translate a fragment of it, but it bored me. I never liked this poem, which always struck me as an affected infantilism... I do not like poems or languages of the surface which smell of happy leisures and of intellectual success - as if the intellect relied on the anus, but without any heart or soul in it. The anus is always terror, and I will not admit that one loses an excrement without being torn from, thereby losing one's soul as well, and there is no soul in "Jabberwocky"... One may invent one's language, and make pure language speak with an extra-grammatical or a-grammatical meaning, but this meaning must have value in itself, that is, it must issue from torment... "Jabberwocky" is the work of a profiteer who, satiated after a fine meal, seeks to indulge himself in the pain of others... When one digs through the shit of being and its language, the poem necessarily smells badly, and "Jabberwocky" is a poem whose author took steps to keep himself from the uterine being of suffering into which every great poet has plunged, and having been born from it, smells badly. There are in "Jabberwocky" passages of fecality, but it is the fecality of an English snob, who curls the obscene within himself like ringlets of hair around a curling iron... It is the work of a man who ate well - and this makes itself felt in his writing...'

There's a William Blake/Edward Lear death match going on in my head with the relative positions of the ludic and visionary imaginations in the great chain of being hanging in the balance, Lewis Carroll and Antonin Artaud in the wings, ready to tag in.

Reading that over seems it's ludic by a hair in a technical decision, not very satisfying for the fans.

Artaud did do some pretty exciting trash talk before the bout, don't have a copy handy, you'll have to look it up yourself.

Yeah, yeah, I know, a little over the top with the blog posting this morning, feeling a little manic, sorry about that.

I think that most people who try to talk about it have a tendency to either or simultaneously over and understate, but above all misstate, the effect of all the new communications modalities that are popping up. The treatment of blogs is instructive in this regard. Political blogs are generally taken as the paradigm case despite being exemplary only in their collecting an intensified version of everything that's worst about blogs in general (can basically be summarized as 'echo chamber of stupidity'), and there is an extreme polarization of response to this (e.g. 'Radically changing the face of American politics', 'An echo chamber of stupidity'). What appears to be actually happening with them is that despite being an echo chamber of stupidity they have rapidly become a driving force of the news cycle, I mean, Jesus, this blog has been the source for at least one news story I'm aware of, but political blogs aren't really all that interesting, the only reason they have such an effect is that the echo chamber of stupidity is much wider in extent, encompassing the news media and American politics generally. The thing I think is most interesting about the medium is the one to a relatively small number of others broadcast nature of almost all blogs which I think fosters some very new ways of relating. Again, the mainstream focus has been on the very popular blog, its potential as source of revenue, etc., but these are barely interesting at all, typical broadcast media with a little bit of interactivity tacked on. Anyway, I do think some odd new things are afoot, but no one seems to really notice.

Thinking about Zardoz, Barbarella, Logan's Run. I think a major reason more recent scifi movies have been so lame for the most part is that they have little to no interest in exploring changes in the nature of human sexuality. Maybe somebody should try to make a movie of one of the Iain M. Banks novels or 'Stars in my Pocket, Like Grains of Sand'? No chance, I know, I know. To the extent this is treated these days, interest seems to be limited to sexuality becoming more computer mediated, not sure if American sexuality could really be much more computer mediated than it is presently. Apart from the driving role porn plays in the development of new web technologies, it seems like every time I hear about somebody's new relationship it came about via Internet, doesn't matter if it's somebody very like me meeting soulmate via Flickr or a sweet little old lady arranging some action on the side in a Yahoo! chat room, lost track of how many instances of this I've come across in the past few years, seems to have quietly become the dominant mode of meeting new people. I should probably be more careful.

A theme is developing, wondering how and when 'senior citizen' entered common usage, as it seems deeply fascistic, probably some time after the Nazis lost the battle and won the war, 50s?

Was really sad about my grandma going into a nursing home but was pretty glad the one she went into was called 'The Central New Jersey Jewish Home for the Aged'. Am also informed that 'Aged' is the LoC heading. Some day we're gonna be dignified and old, together.

Been trying to think of the all time dopiest spoken word parts of pop songs, here's what I've come up with so far:

"The continent of Atlantis was an island which lay before the great flood in the area we now call the Atlantic Ocean. So great an area of land, that from her western shores those beautiful sailors journeyed to the South and the North Americas with ease, in their ships with painted sails. To the East Africa was her neighbour, across a short strait of sea miles. The great Egyptian age is but a remnant of The Atlantian culture. The antediluvian kings colonised the world, all the Gods who play in the mythological dramas in all legends from all lands were from fair Atlantis. Knowing her fate, Atlantis sent out ships to all corners of the Earth. On board were the Twelve: the poet, the physician, the farmer, the scientist, the magician and the other so-called Gods of our legends. Though Gods they were - and as the elders of our time choose to remain blind let us rejoice and let us sing and dance and ring in the new- Hail Atlantis!"

Not sure this one is actually so dopey in some ways, also performed it once and it was really fun, one of those things where it could be a perfect statement of my sentiments with only slight modifications, still very silly.

"Breath deep
The gathering gloom
Watch lights fade
From every room
Bedsitter people
Look back and lament
Another day's useless
Energy spent

Impassioned lovers
Wrestle as one
Lonely man cries for love
And has none
New mother picks up
And suckles her son
Senior citizens
Wish they were young

Cold hearted orb
That rules the night
Removes the colours
From our sight
Red is gray and
Yellow white
But we decide
Which is right
And
Which is an Illusion"

This one is definitely powerful dopey. The use of 'Senior citizens' in a pretentious psychedelic poem one of the high points of our culture,

Looking for more examples to think about, get to it, kids.

Seems like the more sleep I get the worse I feel, let's have beans with every meal.

Señor Citizen Center across the street is shaping up to be the Señor Citizen Center of Death, just in time for Halloween, careful with those roofbeams, carpenters. The level of destruction happening on my street lately makes me think I should be staying away from my orgone accumulator, it's just too strong, too strong.

Peretz is busily being a warm ball in a complex arrangement of blankets and pillows that he keeps referring to as his 'Opus'. Remembering naming cat with crushed leg my mom rescued from the street near her work when I was 15 Leopold after Bugs Bunny cartoon in which Bugs Bunny enters concert hall dressed as conductor and audience members say 'Leopold' a lot. Remembering being six years old at Hebrew School, making an Abraham Lincoln finger puppet and having it say 'Meet me at my Gettysburg Address', teacher tried to tell me that it was a speech, why are people so fucking stupid? Not watching enough Looney Tunes is why.

Thinking about Professor Challenger setting his wife upon the stool of penance, people are pretty comical, pity they enjoy killing each other so much.

Some nice person ignored the various repressive copyright regimes and took the time put one of my all time favorite philosophy papers up for public consumption, another nice person was kind enough to tell me about it, why not read it and be forever changed?

Feeling a little sad, should've used the power of positive thinking.

Feeling empty & hostile, back to normal, pretty much.

Just went out for a beer with coworker, the tiresomeness of people in bars, out for fun. Lovely night, cool, but the humidity makes it seem a sort of mellowed balmy. The calming air didn't detract one whit from the roving hostility of my gaze on my walk home, what a lot of jerks there are out in the world.

Made a nice stir fry earlier with some Asian cooking greens whose name I can't recall, back to cooking it seems, life must be in the process of getting boring again, still no progress on squash.

Just back from a longish walk with Peretz, fed him breakfast, having more coffee.

In addition to having pores, that is to say there being flows between self and nonself, my concept of self appears to be fractal in nature, that is, at any point in the space over which the concept ranges (i.e., the world) its being part of myself is indeterminate prior to actual investigation, there are edges everywhere. These porous edges are further characterized by a certain fogginess, with large zones of undecidability on either side. There appears to be a zone of greater density of applicability in the proximity of my organism, but even were the 'concept' merely fractal, this would be indeterminable as fact given finite time, as things are, the matter is quite hopeless. As I say, I don't think this is in any way peculiar to me and think that anyone who gives the matter much thought will tend to have similar findings. It's sort of troubling to have a concept with these qualities so central to thinking about things, though I suppose it could be useful as an easy means of generating aporias, if you enjoy that sort of thing.

A major problem with maintaining two sets of behavioral standards, one for myself and one for others, is my frequent inability to distinguish between myself and others. I don't think this is anything especially peculiar to me, but I do think a certain obsessiveness with regard to myself intensifies the effect. Essentially, a long time ago, more or less as a mechanism for coping with destructive urges arising from my extreme hatred of certain aspects of the world, I embarked on a program of systematic self-negation with the aim of preserving everything else. An unfortunate consequence of this, given the extreme porousness of my concept of self (which porousness makes it not really a concept at all, actual concepts divide the world into what is and what is not something) is that I have a tendency to hurt those closest to me, mistaking them for myself. It would be nice if I could stop doing this.

Been trying to see safe paths through the woods, feel like I can now, but don't trust myself. Worst case: everyone devoured by bears, send a note to mother if you can. Best case: everyone gets home safe, throw a party.

Gray drizzly morning, not as cold, P's still trying to eat mulch. Having muscle spasms in my neck, lots of work to do today, just did some of it, school advisory board committee meeting this evening, not sure how to survive it, took some ibuprofen, will see how long I stay functional.

My attitude toward my own pain is deeply inconsistent with my attitude toward pain in others. Tempting as it is to resolve this by seeing my own as a matter of significance or that of others as a triviality and secondary matter, can't seem to do so, luckily my attitude toward cognitive dissonance is the same, as it is a kind of pain.

Trying to plot a course by dead reckoning as instruments are fried, will get this capsule back to Earth one way or another, won't swear it'll land in one piece. If it doesn't, I'd appreciate it if one of the viewers at home would say goodbye to my nonexistent wife & children for me, if you could, please do so while looking at the Pleiades on a clear night, thanks.

Today's being kind of a drag. Don't feel as bad as yesterday by any means, just really bummed out. On my lunch break, just went for a walk in the cold rain with P, he kept trying to eat mulch. Very low energy, unfocused, wish somebody would send me a candygram or something, maybe one of those singing ones. 'Candygram for Mongo,' Looney Tunes theme, kaboom, just beautiful.

Should probably get some movies to watch or something that doesn't require too much effort to take my mind off things. Maybe the glacial slowness of things will etch some interesting features onto my surfaces, I don't know.

Still waking up far too early, spending a lot of time being terrified, that's basically ok.

Been having a lot of interesting reflective moments, a lot of things about myself are being made more clear, feeling like I may be able to do something about some of them for once, kind of a difficult prospect, but interesting. Finding it a lot easier to be straightforward and honest with people, I'm usually pretty ok at it, getting better at it I think, sort of relaxing. Feeling a lot more comfortable with myself, which, given the nature of my self, should probably be pretty disturbing, but isn't.

Entering some odd ecstatic states where all seems in harmony, the world a perfect work of art, etc. It's not that I don't realize pretty fully the horror of what's going on, but I find myself slipping into a sort of extreme esthetic attitude where everything manifests perfect beauty.

I love you all very much.

Coming to realize that I have become far more mentally stable than I once was, it's strange. Spent a very long time operating under the assumption that I was fundamentally unreliable, more than people in general I mean, prone to total collapse at fairly minor provocations, no longer feel this to be the case, not sure how to adjust myself to it.

Spent some time with pals from out of town earlier, cut short by call from work, was very nice to see them, but wasn't feeling all that social anyway.

T just arrived with groceries, hurrah. P is arranging things on his bed.

Here are some things to understand about me, in case you were wondering: I am extremely intolerant of people expecting my sense of obligation to others to be mediated through them whatever their relationship to me or anyone else, people surveilling me makes me feel like a hunted animal, I am almost entirely unwilling to pander to people. Hope that helps. Have a nice day.

Some very bad feelings that I'd thought I'd mostly dealt with are back, not in full force by any means, still feeling pretty haunted, or maybe minus the a, not very nice, don't like feeling dangerous, feeling like I'm in danger tends to do that, sadly.

Peretz is looking out the window into the fog, nice to have someone looking out for me.

Don't know why I still allow myself to be disappointed by people or why I'm surprised when it happens, but when it does, it's as though a light has been switched off & I no longer see them as fully human. Sometimes it gets better again, but not usually. I realize that people not living up to my fairly arbitrary standards is not a good reason for me to lose all empathy for them, but that's what happens. I generally feel like shit about it, but that's what happens.

Keep having the feeling that Itzpapalotl is passing by my window, my eyes flicking to the right.

Slightly less agitated, decided to give TV a miss, listening to 'Muswell Hillbillies', giving the Murakami another shot.

As the sun set slowly in the west, black mood transitioned into hardcore panic incident, have it mostly under control at the moment, will see how long that lasts. It is my impression that the most widely used remedy for misery & terror, at least in my general locality, is television, may give it a shot.

Tried to go into town to read, found I couldn't manage it. Thinking thoughts of a darkness probably best not fully registered here. Our present society needs to go, a constant torture to those who least deserve it. I don't think it's going anywhere, sadly. There is, though, at least some justice insofar as I am forced to watch this happen, try to help and fail, again and again. Hard to imagine a more fitting punishment.

Peretz is lying flat on the other couch, looking away.

Warmed up & ate some leftovers, back to reading 'Norwegian Wood'. Narrator is reading 'The Magic Mountain' & it got me thinking I should read some Mann again, often the ways he writes are so similar to ways I might potentially think or write that I find him quite dull, simultaneously it's deeply alien & perhaps dangerous for me, may read some anyway at some point, would welcome suggestions.

Generally feeling pretty tempted by 'serious' literature again lately, has the potential to be very bad for me, hard to explain, basically though, I take it, like so many things, way too seriously.

Intermittent fantasies of being a very different person- far less rational & preoccupied with others, happier. Would like to be sliding gracefully down a mirrored hall full of floating, pretty pictures, constantly surprised by the relationships they reveal to one another, totally heartless. Think it's too late for me, though, if it's not for you, you might want to consider doing same.

Waiting for my cell to pick up a decent charge, then it's probably out into the world with my depressing little book.

Mood is infiltrating external conditions, clouding over, chill in the air. May be pathetically fallacious, feels real.

Peretz enjoyed his outing, rolled around a lot, ate some dirt, pulled urgently, etc. We're more alike than you might imagine.

Extremely sad & tired, managed to get work done anyway, so things proceed pretty much as normal, I suppose. Very nice out, need to take P on a proper outing- despite some well deserved reproachful looks for my neglect of him over the past couple of days, he's been being very supportive and deserves some extended outdoor fun. Lovely day for it, though the contrast between my insides & the outside is such that I feel pretty off kilter, maybe if everything was moved slightly to the left.

One thing's in perfect harmony anyway, things are odd lately & so am I. Sorry if I can't be exactly what you want, it's not for lack of trying.

Again with the up way too early, again with the intense natural beauty, too much for little old me, perhaps.

Spending a lot of time thinking about stuff, a lot more than usual & usual is pretty a lot, not as fucked up and tormented a mode as usual, still wistful.

Going to try to eat a lot of tasty food.

Finally making some headway on the backlog of vegetables, squash remains problematic. While I like squash very much, there appears to be a marked limit to how interested I am in cooking with it. The arrival of sweet potatoes further complicates matters. African stews, casseroles, pies, turnovers? None of these are typical of my cooking, will require some exertion, not sure I have the energy at present.

Funny vibrations have returned, uncertainty reigns.

Went into town to get some pheromone baited pantry moth smiting traps, pharmaceutical/hygenic needs, canned green chiles. Teddy bear hoodie in full effect, all hopped up on coffee, listening to T. Rex, looking for Amanda Hugginkis. Finally got around to showering, feel refreshed.

Peretz is in a funny mood, seemingly both relaxed & sullen, afraid I've been letting the longer walks slip lately.

Home from work early. Loving heart teddy bear pin has been repaired, just tossed special loving heart teddy bear pin hoodie into wash, am going to take Peretz for a walk on the levee, dragging him away from rotting potatoes by the roadside, no doubt, wash myself once home &, when hoodie is dry, will once again be in a fit state to spread lovable eccentricity all over you.

Further events cast doubt on the reality of things, odd conjunctions, spinning mystic wheels emanating lessons of universal significance, should probably start getting more sleep. Afternoon nap was suggested, tend to be dangerous for me like so many other nice things, maybe if I got a bed of nails.

Sweating profusely, hopefully hot shower will kick glands, limbic system into shape for the trials ahead.

Feeling a little old, up early in the chill morning, frost, need to be drinking more water, need to be out looking for an all you can eat breakfast bar. Know where one is, actually, but it's a bit of a piece, maybe later.

Not really sure what's been going on with me otherwise, spending a lot of the time very tired.

It seems it's the week of the endlessly deferred meeting, while sympathetic to such formations in the abstract, down here in the mud it's stressing me out a little. Came into work this morning with head full of ideas about little projects to get on with, I am, in fact, grade A genuine batshit crazy.

Soon to go out on an errand of work, looking forward to moving through the Fall day, not looking at computer screen, thinking thoughts of you.

Made nutritious meal (involving kohlrabi), went out with dog, now very cold & wet. Feel pretty relaxed for the first time in a bit, not sure how long really, probably not very, time is stretching out in funny ways lately.

Peretz is running around in the basement barking, wish I had something as satisfying to do when cold & wet.

Actually got some sleep, trying to get magic coffee powers to activate, keep banging fists together, not producing usual blinding flash, little popping noises instead. Hope the city doesn't get destroyed.

Think I've been on a bit of a downhill literary slide, harsh reality not the poet's friend, need at least a little gaiety in the mix to keep things interesting, generate contrast. My basically comic outlook has been tested, found wanting, don't have another lying around close to hand, will have to limp along with a wanting outlook, heavy stuff on my back.

Seems another long night is ahead, reading in an effort to stave off pure terror, hard to concentrate. Doing my best. Apparently, it's not so hot.

Things are being fairly awful. Constant fear, little sleep.

There have been some nice things happening too, but it doesn't seem like it right now.

Love to everybody, you might think I don't mean it, but I do.

Listening to 'Hi it's been a long time' a few times to get into appropriately messed up frame of mind for public appearance, had some coffee too, pretty much like you. Feeling altered.

Don't think Peretz wants me to go out, can't always do what Peretz wants.

Haven't been out to a show in a while, look forward to seeing people sort of, wonder what sort of horrible things I'll say. Feeling more & more like going into a hunker down, prepare for sudden action mode- sketchy, vicious, unforgiving. Sometimes I'm not a very nice person.

My pizza dream came true, anyway, slowly returning to human form, no memory of the past several hours, stains on shoes. Cleaning with toothbrush now.

Peretz wants attentions, walks, pizza crusts. Want to go to show later, hopefully will be poorly attended & I'll be able to cope with being there (I think the music is mostly electronic/laptop noise, so I'll probably be in luck).

T's watching 'The Matador', everytime I look at the screen, awkward & depressing sex is happening, seems like an OK movie.

Wrote some captions for a Halloween comic strip in my head while walking the dog, just wrote them down and mailed them to a possibly interested party, hope they're useful.

Keep waking up far too early, I am better at getting things done in the morning, but don't much like it.

Peretz has climbed atop a large pile of pillows and blankets, is looking soulful.

Troubling longings, melancholy thoughts, the usual.

Making lentils, feeling incredibly burnt, hope I don't doze off and burn my lentils, irregular heartbeat, eyes hurt, everything hurts. Beautiful weather made my brain happy, but it still can't reliably generate the correct word about 10% of the time, making this somewhat challenging to write. At work earlier, I was rampantly mistyping, inverting letters, using the wrong word, using a word I meant to use later in the sentence, finally decided to pack it in & go have a burrito. Helped a bit, but the effect is fading, bye.

Amazed to find that long life fluorescent bulb I got to replace burned out one in incredibly cumbersome bathroom light fixture was identical in all respects to the one replaced which I installed some three years ago. Took quite a while at the hardware store figuring out which one was most appropriate- as I find in so many case, consistency of evaluative schemata operates perfectly well in place of memory.

A little hazy, rattled, a mind to match yet another misty morning, cold, hidden things moving behind the trees.

Trying to reconcile the evil & horror of the world with my experience of yesterday, not making much progress, but am working on it. We're all going to be hunted down and used for meat, is there anything fun we could do in the meantime?

Trying to empty my mind of all thought, operate in pure perception, not sure what my adrenaline levels are right now, but it's very tempting to go out and pick some fights.

What's Peretz doing in the basement?

Finally managed to do some dishes, pots are soaking in the sink, made a fresh pot of coffee & am trying to get my head around things. Fall Festival tentatively on agenda, may try to go over some logs later. Peretz is pressed up against me, vigorously chewing on his ass.

May also try to catch up on neglected reading, still haven't finished children's book, first time in recent memory I've not completed one in a day or two. Listening to Steely Dan, I know, I know...

Chill gray morn, beauty projected for later, couldn't be more beautiful than yesterday, sadly. A hunger for beauty is only satisfied by perfect beauty & not for long. Dreamed of benign cosmic entities, moving within themselves & me, should've been frightening, wasn't.

Peretz just went down to the basement.

Work operations went surprisingly smoothly, wish there was more opportunity for solitude there. Should be catching up on household tasks, maybe will get to it in a bit.

Had experience of indescribable natural beauty earlier, won't try to describe it, but it sure threw me for a loop, don't really feel like the same person. I should probably get out more.

While out running around with Peretz, learned that the Ashfield Fall Festival is on, will maybe check it out tomorrow.

Some grim business to attend to at work later, waiting till I'm sure no one's there to strike.

Peretz is gnawing on a bone on his bed, there's a cold draft, funny aches & pains, elbow joint, toe.

Looking into new ways of becoming invisible, maybe no one will notice. Also working on some refinements of my self-loathing, please mention anything about me you find particularly despicable via the handy comment feature & I'll do my best to dwell on it.

Spent some time as wobbly ball of fear, very brief nap, now feel a bit better. Without music life would be a mistake.

Should probably spend some time in the chill sun, feel a bit flushed, washed out, crushed. Shhhhhhh.

Just walking around Ingleside North with Peretz, he was very interested in all the migratory birds. Despite my knowing well I couldn't deal with it, very tempted to take flight with them to a place of warmth. Trying very hard to condense myself to a point as a more feasible alternative, it kind of hurts, though. I think as a point the vibrations might make pretty pictures.

Lost in a maze of ambiguous and otherwise indefinite references? Signs point to yes/no/maybe.

While putting on fresh clothes, found Peretz had dragged horrible filth across my bedsheet, laundering it now. Coffee, while clearly necessary, and delightful, is sadly not suffcient. Maybe a donut?

Carrying the darkness of these times around in my pocket is a drag, but can't seem to make myself take it out & leave it lying around, some innocent might find it, making me even more deserving of the harshest penalties.

Once again, I've said the wrong thing. Try not to take it too seriously.

Trapped in a dark room, screaming. There's a door with no doorknob on the inside. On the outside there's a doorknob, it's not even locked. Passers-by look away, embarrassed.

Slowly managing to chill out despite fairly constant loud alarums & c., judicious use of vodka & lime, Beatles last night the midwife of my present state, I think- funny how my memory slips. A few outstanding issues at work, but none I have any control over, watch & wait, watch & wait.

The beauty of the day would be difficult to overstate, except perhaps in comparison to yours.

Peretz is in a mood for investigation today, just patrolled the "scene of the crime" apparently, he wants me to look at some photographs with circles & arrows, etc.

Thinking a lot about records I listened to when I was a little kid, vinyl sides on repeat all night, mostly stuff my parents bought in college & forgot about. I came because I had to, I'm the one who saw.

Call from T to see if she left a book on the couch, she did, not sure if that's good or bad.

Farmer lady at farm share asked 'How you doing?' I said 'kind of tired' she said 'You always say that, maybe you should look for another job.'

New levels/depths of work chaos revealed through short circuit, me being left out of loop, need to go back later, am I ever tired.

Lightheaded, woozy, having identity crisis, checking all rooms for escape routes, possible sources of attack.

Was just talking with a friend about reading about 'The Erotic Adventures of Pinocchio' as a child, "it isn't his nose that grows." The 70s were a very innocent time, elementary school calisthenics to 'Superfreak', 'Le Freak', etc. 'Free to be you and me' in the school library, mildly subversive school librarian reading us Shel Silverstein, reading 'James & the Giant Peach' over and over again & all of Robert Heinlein's books, going to see 'Life of Brian', 'Alien' with my mom, finding bug covered pornographic magazines under logs in the woods near where the Boy Scouts met, where did it all go wrong?

Street in front of our house torn up for senior center plumbing installation, lots of beeping and scraping, the world become dentist's office.

Inability to correctly parse 24 hour clock despite or perhaps due to my recent refamiliarization with the 24 hour workday means I'm done with work 2 hours earlier than I expected, where is my parade?

Stomach cramps adding new ripples to an already highly textured experience, wishing I had some delicious local soda, wishing I had an off switch, wishing I could learn to keep my mouth shut. Yesterday I was looking at my cell phone at 11:11 and made a wish, I'd tell you all about it, but it's a secret. Wow, a new leaf.

Whhheeeeee, nervous wreck, trying to be less of a nervous wreck, seem intent on doing things to make myself more of a nervous wreck, stupid stupid stupid, doing my best, but still stupid stupid stupid. Sorry everybody, will try to do better in future.

Horrific work death march continues, something to brag about being in on to the little ones in the new society, I suppose.

Enough about me, how about you?

Relatively expensive hardware cost estimation, relatively cheap hardware purchasing, looked for a book, had the closest approximation to a serious talk I've had in years, dealt with emergency brought on (as in so many cases) by a copy protection dongle, warming up leftover bisque, will return to work later to deal with lower priority emergent situation.

Pretty vacant, no future, etc., etc.

Don't know how much of my seeming inability to finish or consummate much of anything is down to my finding the beginnings and middles of books so much better than the endings. This is true of philosophy books particularly which tend to start strong, get overly involved, then either peter out or build to a falsely bang up finish (see Hegel). The same is true to a lesser extent of more popular varieties of fiction of course, feeding my interest in serial works & seriality generally, the heavy use of recapitulation in Zelazny's Amber books, the recurrence of the stock situation in Edgar Rice Burroughs, etc. My interests in thought as process or activity & in troubleshooting complex systems are down to this same basic reaction/impulse, I think.

Really wanted to end that quote from 'Inferno' I put up the other day one stanza earlier, but for some reason felt I needed to let Dante tell the lies he felt the need to (& I'm quite sure he knew as well as I do that they are lies, utter bullshit) to get to his period. The dark wood is where the action is.

So, little girl, nice hood, where you headed?

Closed out Yom Kippur festivities with shrimp bisque, challah, Manischewitz concord grape 'wine', Book of Life well & properly closed for the year, good riddance.

Can't believe it's only Monday, oh no oh no oh no.

Sitting at work feeling like I'm going to vomit, sneezed a little while ago & my nose started bleeding, feel like I've received multiple swift kicks to the temple. I know I should be taking better care of myself, pretty sure I'm not capable of it & need looking after, deeply unlikely that I'll allow anyone to do so, the only vacuum cleaner that doesn't lose suction.

Remembering a couple of scifi books about a dyson sphere (the so-called 'Saga of Cuckoo') by Frederick Pohl & Jack Williamson that had a deep impact on me when I was very young- the thing that made the biggest impression was the use of instantaneous matter transport that made copies of people elsewhere rather than just moving people from place to place, always thought such technology would fit in well in a TV series as it would allow one to horribly kill beloved characters over & over again.

Just drove past groups of the devout (well, more devout than me, anyway) walking home from synagogue. Touching, in a way, though I imagine most of it is based more in a lack of genuine religious feeling than anything else- me, I've got plenty & nothing much to do with it outside of satire, parody, travesty, farce. What does one do with mystical experiences when one doesn't have a hook to hang them on? Be a bit crazy & have everybody misunderstand your motivations, seems like.

Was pretty satisfying writing poem earlier though I was none too pleased with the result, should maybe try to do more, they do take a lot out of me & I fall in ruts easily, we'll see what happens.

There is a crack in the world & I can't tell if the evil is flowing in or out, but a lot of it seems to be getting splashed all over me in either case. It's always seemed to me that people loving each other should be easy, the most natural thing in the world & that when it isn't, alien forces are at work. The invasion has begun, I guess- get out your headcolds & water pistols if it'll make you feel better.

Went to Westhampton to get my Yom Kippur ham, on the way back a tree and power lines had fallen across Route 66. Listen up, such obstacles only encourage me, toss your petty thunderbolts as you may- a living god has far more to answer for than a dead one long rotted away to a menacing nothing, so bring it on, fucker.

OK, preheating oven.

Working on a perfect attendance medal for my seminar in Advanced Panic States, sadly today's Ritual Combat practicum has been called off due to rain, will need to find some sad substitute.

Managed to knock my loving heart teddy bear pin off my hoodie with my seatbelt again, will repair later, hands are shaking now, no hoodie for a bit, I guess, soaked anyway. Got a fortune cookie, 'You are demonstrative with those you love,' earlier, I imagine it seems that way to some people, I'm actually not at all. Would try an actual demonstration some time if I could think of anybody it wouldn't really freak out.

Afraid the neighbors will steal my new low-key self when it arrives, at least it might cut down the late night banging a little.

Woken from scary dreams by heavy rain, wrote a dubious, excessively modern sonnet that I don't have the gall to reproduce here. Just back from a wet walk with Peretz, cold, empty, what is he doing in the basement? Ah, he's back, spreading damp on the blankets, cleaning himself.

Again, my loves, don't despair, there is comfort, just not for me.

Did some work, now doing laundry, wearing pyjamas. Had incredibly painful headache, hot shower seems to have mostly gotten rid of it, still dull pain, eye twitching. Watching cartoons, if eye would stop twitching would get back to children's book.

Note to self: remember to pick up Yom Kippur ham tomorrow.

Extended exposure to variety of chaos to which I had become unaccustomed has provoked reflective mood, nothing good will come of it. A little tired of being intense person, did some poking around on Internet, new low-key self should be arriving soon by post.

Having a hard time winding down, should probably be out tracking down some game, walking perimeter of territory, noting likely sources of threat to relate to others back at cave, instead felled by visions, will try to warn of and takes measures against whatever threats are revealed.

Maybe do some work later?

Cold & damp, nice to have something to turn my collar to.

Talking to my mom on the phone, she's found a good source of fresh keloid tissue, undegraded RNA, hooooo-ray.

Read some of 'Norwegian Wood' yesterday, was kind of bummed that the protagonist didn't much like 'The Graduate'.

Starting my day with cup of joe, 'Bela Lugosi's Dead', chills. Actually ran into some goths at a burrito place last night, very pleasant & helpful, notified us the place was out of beans, gave us time to consider our options.

Peretz wants to go out very badly, need to collect myself a little more first, keep finding bits under the couch, etc.

Sip sup sap.
I need to take a nap.
I woke up too early, I woke up too early.
Kip cup cap.

No joke, feeling a bit anemic.

People are for the most part both reasonably nice and incredible assholes, they deserve no credit for the niceness & no censure for being assholes, they're just not worth bothering with.

Got this mass mailing from NoPornNorthampton today full of pitful attempts at powerful rhetoric and things I imagine the writers think of as subtly persuasive, a long list of porn titles, some with descriptions, that I guess I'm supposed to be horrified by. Never really given much of a damn about stuff like this myself, sure exploited workers, people treated as sex objects, what else is new? What's the problem with treating people as sex objects anyway, they certainly are, among other things? My impression is that all these people actually care about is the value of their precious houses and the coddling of their precious offspring. As I would prefer the value of their houses to go down so I could afford one & their children to be corrupted so they'd eventually be worth talking to, it's hard to be too sympathetic.

OK, stuff to do.

Feeling a bit like standing around public events with a placard reading "Ps 90:9-10" but think people might get the wrong idea.

T is singing 'We Got Married' to me, talking of signs and omens. Portents, importance, impotence.

Finally got some sleep, actually feel pretty well rested despite disruption by nightmares, intense downpour around five in the morning. Been experiencing some strange alterations in general outlook, imagine it will pop right back to normal at some point, amazing patented memory foam.

Still feeling a bit ill, can't have everything.

Early morning, where's my cold taxi?

Reading a children's book, avoiding 'Dhalgren', serious thought. Considering reading the Gormenghast books again. Considering doing more reading. It can be a dangerous thing for me, seems like a plus at the moment.

Walked with Peretz down Dirty Needles path past a clutch of teens who had left a thick trail of pot smoke all the way down to Pleasant Street, very discreet. Wondering how discrete and discreet ended up spelled differently. Reet petite.

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
ché la diritta via era smarrita.

Ahi quanto a dir qual era è cosa dura
esta selva selvaggia e aspra e forte
che nel pensier rinova la paura!

Tant'è amara che poco è più morte;
ma per trattar del ben ch'i' vi trovai,
dirò de l'altre cose ch'i' v'ho scorte.

Io non so ben ridir com'i' v'intrai,
tant'era pien di sonno a quel punto
che la verace via abbandonai.

Ma poi ch'i' fui al piè d'un colle giunto,
là dove terminava quella valle
che m'avea di paura il cor compunto,

guardai in alto, e vidi le sue spalle
vestite già de' raggi del pianeta
che mena dritto altrui per ogne calle.

The potato trucks are on the move again, soon to be dragging P away from rotten potatoes on the road to the levee.

Real world is hard, need to make more time for myself to spend with pure forms. Feeling a lot better physically than earlier, still a bit on edge otherwise. Hate being in the middle of things, more of a one for the margins.

Lying at home in a pool of sweat, desperately trying to catch up on neglected work. Shaking pretty badly, heart rate seems kind of irregular, will probably have a migraine by evening. See wildly spinning pinwheels when I close my eyes. Hopefully eventual sleep will make this all go away. Mouth full of floor shavings, hyperalert, confused.

Powerade & coffee, breakfast of champions. Been a rough week.

Extreme mental exhaustion, like old times, should break out the metaphysics books.

Interesting conversations, sometimes surprised at what I'll say, mostly will say whatever I'm thinking about, I guess it's not normal.

Presented with a variety of new worries, probably good, I was getting a handle on most of the old ones, keeps me in fighting trim, ready for action at your command, my dears. Fucking crazy, I am.

It is a day of exquisite beauty. Therefore, an aubade:

The times I didn't exist
and wandered among fishes
and thick leafed plants,
my glances haunted by coelacanths,
the Sun at the bottom of the well's
rippled surface tried to light my way
and failed, too far away.
Thanks, Sun.

So apparently that Google outage wasn't all in my head.

Beautiful day to sit under fluorescents, I am a picture of contentment.

T read one of my posts about going to Bread Fest in town as something about me being breastfed in town, if only. Somehow managed to work a shower into my busy schedule, more or less returned to human form, hopefully all the leaves and debris don't clog the shower drain, not sure how I'm going to get the stains out of my shirt.

Have allowed myself to get very dehydrated, there will probably be unpleasant consequences, don't care a fig. Anyway, paper + sand = sandpaper, anyone need any smoothing done?

Having difficulty connecting to all google related sites I can think of from home, wonder what the deal is.

Feeling more like myself all the time, disasters are good for you.

Had some more Lebanese, chilly walk around town, development at the Smith athletic fields has made them claustrophobic and sinister, somehow it didn't make me feel closer to them, also it seems the more modest the car, the slower it goes over speed bumps. Told several unpleasant anecdotes. Emotional intelligence, ha ha ha.

Picked up a variety of snacks for T on the way home, but she's gone off somewhere. Peretz & I are working on plans for fortifications, he keeps drawing in what he insists on calling 'kookolas' complete with lines indicating available firing angles, I've been focussing on the underground facilities, ductwork.

Wish I were less of an idiot and could actually get things done.

Just got an email with subject line 'you are our sunshine', nice when feelings are reciprocated, even if only by online pharmacies.

Called by work in midst of morning dog walk, client's dsl messed up, went over, checked it out, told them what to tell their ISP. Trying to pull myself back together, little bits keep turning up around the house which I pick up & reaffix with a fixative. Keep slipping into pensive mood, tearing up, etc. OK, backup tapes, hurray!

Feel a bit better. Fell asleep very early, woke for some very early morning pottering about, went back to sleep.

Think I'm too low on nervous chemicals to support my normal pre-workweek nervousness, feel a little flat, need to map out circuit of bakeries to go to all day long.

Fetched T from train, went to deli, finally ate some food, still feel like I'm going to puke. Sleep depro, sadness, agitation conspire to make me unpleasant to be around. A mass of twitches, irritable, white hot tiny coal of anger slowly burning its way through cortex, time for a new action plan, the storm is gathering, etc., etc.

Just back from Bread Fest, amazingly beautiful Horse Spirit Penetrates performance complete with leaf-filled wind vortex, menacing clouds. Still shaking, etc., intense waves of the full range of unpleasant emotions, been trying to write magical poems in my head to heal the world, too mentally disorganized to manage it, led to some semi-mystical experiences on walk home, basically esthetic in nature, seemed incredibly important & slipped away. Might get a phone call later about Deleuze and the body without organs, haven't thought about that in a long time, might have to fall back on anecdotes.

I'm a little flower, I'm nothing.

Rehearsing minor incantations to ward off evil, may prevent the spirits from entering during the time of danger, wheat is life. Saw a little girl at Bread Fest with a pink bicycle with a pink pearlescent bag attached to the handlebars that said 'Precious Pearl' in silver, her little sister had a baby doll with two bandaids on its forehead, imagined its third eye had been trying to open.

To feel a vocation to something which doesn't exist yet is hard, time is simultaneously fleeting & glacial, forming in liquid sedimentary layers, everything I love washed away in slow motion, every step a likely misstep, me & various species of nothing watching each other from the corners of our eyes.

Here are the facts: the absolute, mechanized by love, hovers above the multitudes and acts without reason. The others pour themselves out and flit around. Sound is different there as fear makes stacks of vibration in the sullen air. No reaction is sufficient, all are necessary, everyone is answerable, but no one calls.

I wish I could make you feel better, little figment.

Just caught in a downpour with Peretz, put on a dry shirt while he rampaged in the basement, now we're both on couches sorting ourselves out.

After a little quality fetal time, did some dishes, made more coffee, trying to look reality square in the eye, if I stare long enough, maybe it will go away.

T just called from New York with her train arrival time, sounded like someone was dropping stacks of dishes in the background.

We were so close, there was no room
We bled inside each other's wounds
We all had caught the same disease
And we all sang the songs of peace

I'm a fucking mess. Multiple songs running simutaneously in my head, sporadically crying, should really go back to sleep. Dog seems upset with me, just met with another dog who had been mauled by yet another dog, shaved spot on back with big cut, poor Toto. Where did I leave my magic slippers?

How could they know just what this message means
The end of my hopes, the end of all my dreams
How could they know the palace there had been
Behind the door where my love reigned as queen

A good memory for songs, while sometimes entertaining, also sometimes turns one's head into an echo chamber of pain. I won't forget all the times I waited patiently for you. Make it stop.

Apparently, my idea of helping myself is putting Flipper's 'Life is Cheap' on, ridiculous.

Feel as though set alight, allowed to burn to cinder, reconstituted, set alight, etc. Dreams of killing fields, systematic premeditated maltreatment, watching eyes. Cover of all safe houses blown, cornered, time to destroy all monsters.

Bread fest in town today, wholesome, not sure how up I am for wholesome, maybe if they'd agree to drop the 'w'. More fulsome, winsome instead please.

Watching anime, shaking, extremely elevated heart rate, terrified.

Was hoping to get all work out of the way today, have tomorrow free, didn't work out that way, had more important things to do oddly enough.

Feel like I'm made of paper, crumbled up, flattened out, crumbled up, flattened out.

Working on escape plans, anyone interested in coming along, keep one eye on the sky, I will project the agreed upon token when all is in readiness. Also working on advanced tactics for the war against the unbelievers, don't want to reveal too much as yet, but they definitely involve blowing kisses, perhaps interpretative dance.

The stupidity and viciousness of the world continues to amaze, everyone who can see what's wrong clearly is paralyzed by terror, shit shit shit.

Dread task mostly completed, awaiting delivery of lighter monitor. Lots of sweat, irritable. Earlier did printer troubleshooting for ice cream, if I do enough of that, maybe I can build up a stock for soda shop, anybody got clogged nozzles?

More work ahead, much less dreadful, but still don't much feel like doing it.

Wet, shivering, harsh realities await. Sorry about the dubious versification, sometimes it's fun to act as though time has a non-menacing aspect. Had the saddest dreams.

Why not read a little bit about Venedikt Erofeev?

Almost equinox, had apples and honey with T, took T to train, had apples and honey with Joel, home for a bit, out for fun, had a little, left feeling frighteningly sinister, not sure what would help, feel free to experiment.

Senescence, bilgewater, axial tilt, perversion, waxworks, buttermilk,
Coxcomb, marzipan, holy slaughter, gendarme, spongiform, Ayauhteotl,
Decedents, sprightly, fox in socks, viscera, chocolates, equinox.