Thirty

Wrap-up

I really do need to make an effort to go back through old entries various places, and consolidate them here.

I mentioned yesterday that I was looking for inspiration from the past. I’d glanced at something from 11/29/2011, but didn’t have it anywhere. It was on OD, but what I wasn’t the longish survey I’d seen at first glance.

But I didn’t have it here.

Now I do.

I’ve been pretty good about moving things around, but with multiple CMSes, etc., I have a lot of what I’d done in places I really can’t access.

The stuff from OD before it went away for the first time I had in ASCII exports spread far-and-wide. Finding things in there is easy enough — ^F (MM/DD)

I did lose all of the formatting, but I can’t be too upset about that.

I understand that the amazement about your MySpace page was the cool embedded drawing

Maybe you said something incredible.

More likely, however, you were putting up something that looked cool, and distracted people from trying to punch the monkey.

Know Your Meme is failing me on that one. Younger people probably aren’t familiar with the sorts of stupid ads that’d pop up when you were surfing the Information Superhighway back in the day.

Whatever you’d cranked out could be obscured by something annoying put there to distract you into giving away money.

I, on the other hand, tended to use HTML tricks to obscure content. I never do that anymore stopped doing that sort of thing. Or did I?

At the same time, for the most part the content persists in spite of the efforts to hide or delete it.

You can strip things away, and get back to what came out. Since it’s coming form a person, you start in with things like Chomsky’s generative grammar. (Which I’ve seen other langoustines describe as “creationist.”)

At some point, however, something comes out. It’s saved somewhere. Once the buffer is written, the effort it takes to remove it is pretty steep.

Everything Gets deleted eventually.

But you have to work at it to make that happen.

Whether or not you really want to throw things away is another story, altogether.

There aren’t a lot of people who’ll want to read my shit. In fact, I don’t want to read my shit a lot of the time.

But it’s there. It might be spread far and wide, but I can wrangle it back. If I want to.

Doing it is going to require a bunch of time, and I might not want to exert the effort to do it, but I think I know where the bodies are buried.

Eventually I’ll coalesce things into one thing, and store that far and wide.

Maybe all that’ll be a random MariaDB dump where someone can pick through and find what came out of my numb fingers.

Probably not; I’m not that interesting. But it’ll be there for someone to find if he/she wants to see it.

For the past fourteen years, I’ve hammered out whatever’s been seeping from my scarred brain the vast majority of days in November.

I can still type. For the most part.

It’s a skill that’s really second-nature at this point. I’m not sure that writing with a pen or pencil really is.

Am I proud of what I’ve barfed out for the month?

Ummmm.

Maybe I should reword that. Am I really upset about what I’ve generated?

No.

But I am finished.

That’s an accomplishment by itself.

I can use it is proof, even if it’s only to myself, that I can stick to something.


For miscellany vacillating between trying to watch the undercard presidential debate, and the Thursday Night Football game.

Honestly, neither is of much interest. Whichever one I end up with probably won’t occupy my attention all that long.

Oh well.

I can do that tonight because I’m finished.

Tomorrow, fingers crossed, my medication will arrive so I can take that.

And we can slide into December.

shiver