Art Attack Central
Fixing stuff, myself included…
Love Affair != Over
If the title is puzzling, see prior post. I’m content to wait and see what developes next, or perhaps I should say, “how the loop executes” in programing “jargonese”. My lover arrived at my door last night in a flurry of looking good, and while no explanation of time elasped since our last encounter was forthcoming, I nevertheless was delighted. Prior to the exquisitly pleasurable arrival, I was casually licking my wounds and readying my soul for outward bound, or some other such, “pulling yourself up by your bootstraps” technique. Today I’m ready for a new beginning, or the beginning of the end whichever the case may be; I am not inclined to tamper with the Fates.
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Handstand
When I was an adolescent, I dreamt that I was doing a handstand on 2 napkins just at the edge of a cliff. Two small children were there threatening to pull the napkins out from under me (like tiny magicians whisking the table cloth from the table and leaving the dishes intact). At the time I thought the children were more interested in seeing me topple over the edge than in performing magic. The drama took place behind Zep’s Gas Station; a one pump gas station that faded from existence years ago. Zep’s was on Rt. 2 when Rt. 2 was a 2 lane country road winding through Anne Arundel County, across South River and into Annapolis. In reality (waking life) there was no cliff behind the station, only gentle fields rolling up to forests.
So, what does it mean?
Living on the edge is not an easy feat (feet). It’s easier to stand on one’s feet than on one’s hands, as in “stand on your own 2 feet”.
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Crack of Dawn
She ain’t no plumber either! My usual time to leap out of bed is 5:00 am. This morning the 5 o’clock transition between sleeping and waking required a vigorous shake to realign brain cells. Even a wee dip in the pool leaves a dog wet. It’s raining here, and thank god it’s not pouring, because, when it pours it rains in the kitchen. I simply must go up on the roof and cut the vines out of the gutter; sometimes one pays heavily for procrastination.
Speaking of procrastination, I do not procrastinate on things I like to do. Just finished new interface design and uploaded it to site this morning. Saw “Return of the Mummy” with my friend Su over the weekend. Influence is obvious.
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Recovery?
My lover once said to me, “it’s not the not drinking part that’s hard, it’s the being sober part”. There’s a ring of truth to that statement; I wish there was not. Yesterday I spent the afternoon with a close friend of mine; I thought about having a drink, but I didn’t. I experienced no difficulty with sobriety while in the presence of my friend.
Well where’s the ring of truth then?
Ahh… the ring of truth lies (notice the juxtaposition) in the loss of the lover’s golden tongue, the ease which one makes the witty comment or smart comeback. Perhaps to the discerning sober eye (I) the comment/comeback is off the mark or slightly slurred, but it is the ease of repartee that I’m referring to, not necessarily the quality of a particular remark.
Where are you going with this?
Recovering versus non-recovering! hats. I think it’s highly likely (statistically speaking) that I’m about to embark on a non-recovering escape/escapade. A small dip in the pool of slightly manic, madcap (hat) behavior.
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Love Affair = Over?
love affair = = ?
If (love affair = program)
x = decipher source;
then y do I get core dump?
Common Programming Errors
Arithmetic underflow = poor choice of variable type
- one of us = not best choice type
- one of us has values = not correct
Off-by-One Loop Errors
- one of us = out of sync
- one of us has invaded loop boundary of other
- loop won’t work with our data combination
if (love < enough || love != love)
love affair = over;
else if (love > enough)
love affair != over;
trodden != loaden;
Source Code Availabe for Downtrodden
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Imposter?
From the
“Amongst the most famous of these was Magdalena de la Cruz (1487-1560), a Franciscan nun of Cordova, who for many years was honoured as a saint. She was believed to have the stigmata and to take no other food than the Holy Eucharist. The Blessed Sacrament was said to fly to her tongue from the hand of the priest who was giving Holy Communion, and it seemed at such moments that she was raised from the ground. The same miraculous levitation took place during her ecstasies at which time also she was radiant with supernatural light. Falling dangerously ill in 1543, Magdalena confessed to a long career of hypocrisy, ascribing most of the marvels to the action of demons by which she was possessed, but maintaining their reality. She was sentenced by the Inquisition, in an auto-da-fé at Cordova, in 1546, to perpetual imprisonment in a convent of her order, and there she is believed to have ended her days most piously amid marks of the sincerest repentance (see Görres, “Mystik”, V, 168-174; Lea, “Chapters from Relig. Hist. of Spain”, 330-335).”
Are you obsessed with stigmata, or what?
No, but it does seem an appropriate place to begin vis a vis imposter. One would have to wonder at which time was Magdalena an imposter. Was it during her ecstasties, was it when the Holy Eucharist was flying to her tongue from the hand of the priest, was it in ascribing most of the marvels to the action of demons or was it ending her days most piously amid marks of the sincerest repentance?
What exactly do you mean by imposter in relation to yourself?
I mean those moments, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months or years within which I was not completely present and yet, pretended to be fully present, and even perhaps when the pretending was unconscious. I mean those times in which I failed to live entirely in the present unfettered by thoughts of concern for how I might be perceived/received. Living in the present requires being aware of the fact that you’re awake (ie aware of awareness), similarly lucidity in a dream requires being aware of the fact that you are dreaming while you are dreaming.
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