Art Attack Central
Fixing stuff, myself included…
Old Tricks
I’ll ask right off the bat; what do you mean by “Old Tricks?”
Fooling around with the “underpinnings” of this website, from server to WordPress – Speed of loading, ssh/sftp and other “stuff,” behind the curtain.
I should have known you’d revert back to your “old ways.”
Not so fast, I’m not completely entangled in “nerd-speak.” Also, I’ve been thinking more about dyeing and death. I searched on Google for, “the science behind life after death, and found some pretty interesting “stuff.”
Ahh, I see more of “what’s behind that curtain?” Gotcha!
Here’s an URL worth reading.
Do you remember reading all the Carlos Castnada books and Robert Monroe on Astral Projection?
Yes, I remember lots of “stuff.” I remember amazing, mesmerizing moments of time spread out over my brief lifetime.
So maybe you should talk about those “times.”
I might, but not right now.
Dying and Death
My father “passed away,” about 6 months ago. “Passed away,” is defined in Webster’s as going out of existence. He died. I brought his ashes home from the anatomy board last week.
What? Wait a minute. You said six months ago. Where were the ashes all this time?
He donated his body to science; he wasn’t cremated until recently.
Yikes! How do you feel, or what do you think about donating a body to science?
On my way downtown, all I could think about was, “dad in a box.” Then I thought about my mother’s death. Our family on a sailboat, spreading her ashes over the bay. She also donated her body to science. However; since my father was alive when she died, he received her ashes. So I didn’t think about, “mom in a box.” But now… it’s:
tick toc, tick toc mom in a box
tick toc, tick toc dad in a box
tick toc, tick toc…
So are you going to donate your body to science?
I don’t know about my body. tick toc, tick toc…
What are you going to do with your father’s ashes?
When spring comes, he can swim in the bay with my mother. For now he’s in the box on top of my dresser, and I speak to him when I notice the box.
What if you still need your body after you’re dead?
I don’t know why you ask questions like that. Who knows if we’ll need our bodies after we die? Will there be “anyone home?” Will consciousness, (the I of me) exist somewhere? That nebulous idea of me. Who knows? See, a question like that, only leads to more questions. But, then again isn’t life a question?; we spend a “lifetime” trying to answer.
Oh dear, I sense you are going to start talking about time travel again.
Maybe…
Well… Yes Time Travel
Hun, what? Time Travel?
I did travel from there to here, you know, and at least “this time” 6 months didn’t go by. Perhaps all of time is really quite compressed, and the moving through it at different speeds gives us the illusion of progression.
Unhun, so where have been in this pressure cooker of time?
I can’t tell you right now; I’ll try to come back later.
Would that be kind of like visiting the past?
Okay, just put a lid on it.
Time…
On my way out the front door for a cigarette, my sister stoped me to show me how young some actor was in his first movie.
Some actor?
Yeah some actor; I can’t remember his name 5 minutes later! So, I said, “we were all young once.” Once is not enough. I’d settled for twice right now.
1 x 1 = 1; 1+1 = 2. It’s the time issue that creates the problem. Ah yes these are the times. If addition were the answer, we’d all be young twice over.
I’d think twice about that logic if I were you.
But, you are me. Over here, Over there, I can see your “underwhere.” As the timeline keeps rolling along. Sung to the tune of, the Caissons go rolling along.
WordPress + Blogger
Well… I managed to import my old Blogger Archives into WordPress. Now it’s a matter of going through all those, mostly older posts, replacing photos, and replacing missing links in some cases. If you see a post with “Designated driver, on the information highway.” at the bottom, it was originally posted on Blogger. Lots of “stuff” has disappeared since November 2001!
Exactly how old are you anyway?
I used to be really old; however, recently I went back in time and lost 30 years.
Lost 30 years? Huh, where did you lose it?
Somewhere between a rock and a hard place.
This might be you
Actually, I looked through all my images, and came up empty handed. Afterwards, I searched high and low looking for you all over the house. I think I spotted you up in the lower hall transom. Is this you?
Higher Power
Yeah, it’s me alright. I thought I saw you taking my picture. Why did you put me way up there?
So you could keep and eye on my comings and goings. You’re my “higher power.”
Ha, ha very funny. You don’t treat me like a higher power. Although, I suspect you need one. The reluctant saint acquires a higher power; sounds like a super power.