Something you'd never expect... The Pied Piper was called to deal with the aftermath of Pandora's box.. The subtle grappling with reality, the twisting, that would break it, and humanity, like the soft skin of a grape... All would be stopped by a flute... or so the legend goes But like a good showman, the flute is mainly a symbol -- our piper, ladies and gentlemen, has other tools. We won't, however, tell his secrets here. We can just recommend him for your village -- after accepting payment (he does that upfront, these days), he simply marched away, a trail of nightmares at his feet.

o/~ This is my private bed This is where I lie at night Staring at a light bulb hanging on the ceiling Waiting for a dream to Come and get me out of here

Here in my humble room at night I often wonder what goes on out there What makes them run so scared I often stare at the people passing by But they can't see me thru my window shades Just like I'm not even there o/~ -- Oingo Boingo, "Private Life"

So, yesterday I worked for a bit, then had a thanksgiving lunch with a co-worker, and then worked a bit more, and then drove home (got egged into it) for Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, nobody told me when the dinner was, so I missed it. Oh well -- hung out w/ my family for a bit.. I then got a ride to Columbus with Martha, had some good conversation, and was dropped off at Fnord, where I was able to grab my car and head back to Pittsburgh, catching up on some phone calls I needed to make in the meantime. It was a good trip, although a bit brief.. I have a LOT of work to do for school now...

Yeah, naturally, on the way to and from my destinations, I listened to a *LOT* of music... and when I was at my parents, I played a bit on my Dad's guitar and the piano.. it really was a nice break from my recent music-producing-less existence. Yes, I've lost enough of my mapping of what notes are which keys/strings+frets, but that really didn't matter too much -- even doing music badly is better than not doing it at all.

Have been researching what's needed to get my car registered here.. apparently, I'm going to need to get the windshield wipers repaired before it'll pass inspection, which means yet another trip to Ford (fortunately, I can use one here). Ugh.. that means that I'll need to figure out transport back and then transport there again. An alternative would be to use the Ford in Monroeville -- if it's near enough the other stores there, and if they can repair it within a day, I'll just hang out at a coffeeshop or something. Stupid cars. Bleh.

Oh, I've got some pictures for you... Valerie, the Roboceptionist in my building at CMU.. Latest addition to my office door Same, but playing with GIMP filters Andrea, my mom, Bailey, Lindsay, and my Dad Katie and Andrea strike a pose in the library

And a link to some music. I particularly recommend "Salt Fare, North Sea" as well as "Pass it Along"

o/~ With all the changes you've been through It seems the stranger's always you Alone again, in some new wicked little town... o/~ -- Hedwig, "Wicked Little Town"

What does it mean, to follow the path? You may succeed in all your stated goals, but lose your humanity behind the curtain. Yes, Virginia, it is all that, but be careful to think before you take our hand. All the transhumanists, and the humanists, it is another path that's narrow at times. The pain of knowing yourself, of understanding each spasm of anger or hope, the shame that we project onto others, humanity was never meant to withstand a mirror. The Jester makes her trade, dressing up in ludicrous garb, telling us things that we can't admit, indulging our surpressed desires. Comedy is Pornography. And yet, one culture's pornography is another's normal state of affairs.. and of course, things often can piggyback on good pornography -- racist humour, spiritual yearnings, consumerist thoughts..

The problem with religion or the state for that matter is that it involves putting faith in something above yourself. They take power and responsibility away from ordinary people and undervalue people's worth. In lefty circles there's a tendency to dismiss Western religions as bollocks whilst believing any old clap-trap as long as it's Eastern. I'm sick of hearing how spiritual and fantastic Buddhism is; tell it to the slave labourers in Burma. They live under a Buddhist system and its not doing them much good. -- Chumbawumba FAQ

And I realize that I have turned my back on a side of myself, at least one.. Music can get me to my other (acknowledged) side, and sometimes near the border, but the illegitimate side can only insert a snide comment here and there, is restricted to standing on the edges of my vision, jumping up and down with his mirror.. To protect the trees, she has been expelled from Eden, her fast-food job replaced by a robot servitor. She sings a song of spirit, of longing, and although I try to ignore her constant circling of the circle, the tears flowing down my face betray how hard it is sometimes. I even guiltily use her shouted arguments for my own ends, my own captive Moor to ward against the horde, my vaccine.

You tell me that the Tragedy is the only game in town, but the tragedy is an intellectual movement, and we're in an age of spiritual machines. The thing we're always told, Be Rational, don't get revenge, don't be the nail that sticks out.. even to correct a wrong. And yet we all know, inside, how to speak with the voice of society. It's in our genes, in our psychology. We sometimes take pride in being inhuman, to extrapolate firm ground in the windy muck we live. Our struggle to find a face will always succeed, with finitely bound error.

Someday, I shall tell you tales from the Brain Bowl, a place of recent discovery.

From IM: "Did you leave some toenail clippings here that you identify with? :)"