I realize all you guys are grizzled old rodeo riders here in usenet-
world, but I either have a baseline IQ or else I've fallen prey to
some kind of brain disorder that's turned my brain to goat cheese.
I've been fucking around with a laptop on my, well, lap, for almost a
year now and I noticed I can barely read the back of the cereal box
without my concentration wandering off. I used to read Russian
literature for fun and now I can't comprehend the instructions that
come with a hand-operated can opener. The internet seems to me to be
like a gigantic wall of hundreds of screens, all open simultaneously,
and I just sit in front of it and scan all day and all night. If it's
not a recipe for boiling corn, it's the Fed's analysis of Chinese coal
industry and/or buying a watchband while looking at a fat guy shooting
off a handgun.

In other words, it's all hopelessly mired-down in a vast swamp of
idiocy that I could float in till the day I die. I'm not sure I should
do that..... it requires so little of me, yet takes so much, without
me giving anything yet keeps me coming back for more. Very strange.

I don't even recognize the world I live in anymore. When did politics
become about the person and not about the plank? Does anyone even
know what a plank in a platform even meant? Apparently not. Instead
of debating the role of government in American life and keeping the
power-drivers in check, it's reduced to telling the other guy he sucks
off his dog for breakfast. Pretty goddamn horrible for us.
Depressing. If I turn off the TV and unplug the computer and quit
reading the newspaper and go back in my little den/library and pick up
that book I bought last year about John Adams, will I be any happier?
Socrates thought that the invention of writing would cripple Man's
intellect by giving him a way to refer to the knowledge that the good
old man felt we should have in our head, vibrating.

My sleep is all fucked up again; I'm back to waking up at 3:15 am and
by 9 am, I have that shitty hung-over feeling I hate that reminds me
of all those years I came to work sick from the night before. I'm
worried about this election, I'm worried about realizing that life has
no meaning beyond what one gives it, I miss my dog who died of old age
seven years back and I miss the night.

The only identities who feels like they have plasma running in their
veins around here is Karen and Bill C., aka the Nominated. Don't any
of you find that odd? That the two persons who are thought of as
crackpots are the only ones who seems like they are anchored to some
kind of humanity? Bill Cmelak and Karen Anderson, being nominated for
actually firing neutrons while the Goat Keepers think they hold the
keys.

See what I mean? I read an interview with the Google boys and they
said that we'd all be better off if we were interfaces. And by god if
they weren't serious.

I'll see you around. Shutting this shit off will be like quitting
smoking. Let's see if I can go longer than 4 hours... ha.