the plot sickens

whatever happened to pong?

Saturday, November 22, 2003

Didi,
Enjoy twentieth century living until you find your way back. Our past ramblings will stick around. There may be an expansive gap in the archives, but the millions who are technically able to read this will figure it out if they get around to it. Fun is what it's been. Out is where I'm going. Take care.

george

tell me something... i don't know...

• gokogo @ 9:57 PM

Sunday, November 16, 2003

I am intensely curious about the comic book. The movie is terrible, the coffeetable book is atrocious, the interactive fiction game is entertaining mostly with the unbroken guidance of the hint manual. The actual novel is amazingly entertaining, as is the book of original radio scripts. Yes, I still make reference to the work of Douglas Adams in conversation, and few ever know what I'm talking about--not even my literature teacher when polling the class for a selection for her upcoming British Lit class. No doubt you thought of me when you uncovered it. A breakup leaves me without my 5-book hardcover compilation, so I accept. Thank you. Don't burn it.

he walked on the water and swam on the land...

• gokogo @ 8:12 PM

Saturday, November 15, 2003

The theory of entropy is that everything turns to shit. Structures disintegrate in the weather and random disasters, the body suffers age and disease, relationships fall apart from disuse, sabotage, disinterest, etc. Shoes bust out at their seams.

I was watching an extended advertisement for a home gym. There were many moodily lit shots of leathery abdomens. The voiceover was admiring the human body in its unique ability to regenerate and strengthen with use. Well-crafted musical instruments work much the same way, but perhaps this comparison was too sissy for a fitness infomercial.

The mind, though rarely eaten, is sometimes referred to as a muscle. I let this turn to shit at least once, and I was lost in the shoe store for a long time.

Maybe they'll give you another free month. Whichever the case, keep in touch.

Hasta manzana, didi.

his intentions were six-sixty-six...

• gokogo @ 5:12 PM

Wednesday, November 12, 2003

Old Fart Winter is blowing hard from the north in Milwaukee tonight. From inside a building, it often sounds like a woman screaming. On the outside, like a crowd of billions cheering at the rock concert on Doomsday. Continents of leaves collect in the gutters and in front of buildings, following some higher mathematical pattern. They are dispersed by the howling gales into smaller colonies that then grow just as dense. The gibbous moon moves against the breaking cloud cover while cyclones raise dead leaves tens of feet from the sidewalk into the air. If only I could find my way to the core of one of the air columns and be tossed carelessly into the night like one of them.

ca plane pour moi...

• gokogo @ 11:11 PM

Tuesday, November 11, 2003

I added the Dictionary.com toolbar to my version of Microsoft Internet Explorer tonight. The word of the day is solicitous, as in: "His blogging was very solicitous, not reckless." Not: "~~She was sore from being so solicitous the night before.~~"

There, now I'll use it in every conversation for a month.

Feel freely to articulate on your hate. You're not tying up my ear with it.

i can read your eyes and i like what see...

• gokogo @ 11:56 PM

Your windedness is lengthy. I enjoy a good story, though. It got me to thinking. Having read an applicable (one of Bob's favorite words) passage in The Stranger by Albert Camus, I'll try to relate it. While awaiting his execution in prison, the character has the pointless thought that everyone involved in his trial "changes their underwear."

In hating people, I can't often get by facts such as these. Facts such as, that the person has cried, that the person has vomitted violently, that the person eats food, that the person blows their nose, that the person worries about nuclear war... etc. When concentrated on for long enough, these parts of the human condition have a tendency to sadden, and my dislike is outweighed--for the moment. At the same time, ironically to me, these ideas also lend themselves to humor.

Sometimes though, the sadness of consuming food is moved to fantasies of a choking on it.

That's all I got... keep novel'ng it up here, Didi, why not?

i live cement, i hate this street...

• gokogo @ 8:03 PM

Thursday, November 06, 2003

This week won't end. Ordinarily, I'd be either alone or aiming it up with a 6 pack of Point lager at this time. Instead, I am studying for a beast of a Calc exam I have to make up at an ungodly hour tomorrow, while everything else I have to do for other classes revolves sickeningly around in my head. I thought I'd come on here and bitch, because hey, what is the Internet for?

My windpipes feel like they're about to spontaneously combust from a southward-bound head cold. Thought I'd add that for good measure.

life was short, life was sweet, i was thinking as I hit the street...

• gokogo @ 7:22 PM