Here lies Martes Flavigula, eternally beneath the splintered earth.

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Blog -

Sat, 18 Jan, 2020 14.47 UTC

Yesterday, in the early evening, I had a flash like a sudden fever that struck me then left, but returned in reverberating waves during the following hours. The feeling had subsided completely by the time I passed into sleep hours later, but the thought structure it left behind remained. It still remains today. The collection of wealth for its own sake is an abomination. Moreover, the collection of wealth to pool into a *family trust* is equally evil. Common regurgitations I perceive are along the lines of...

Tue, 31 Dec, 2019 10.39 UTC

Taylor asked me yesterday what are five things I did during the decade that is coming to a close that made it worth it. Before I begin a formal list, I'll say the overreaching concept that made the decade *worth it* was the sheer enjoyment of as many moments as possible during the said decade. Being that a *moment* can be regarded as an infinetesimal span of time, I had the possibility to experience infinite enjoyable moments, causing death by cerebral hemorrhage in several infinities of parallel quantum u...

Sat, 28 Dec, 2019 20.05 UTC

In brief conversation with Marisa's mother, Ilu, I encountered an ingrained form of response, or so it seemed to me. I stated *We are leaving within an hour.* (*Marcharemos dentro de una hora.*) and she immediately came back with *Or even sooner!* (*O incluso más pronto!*). I immediately correct her, as I am wont to do. Some call me a *pedant* for such behaviours. Fuck um. Nothing against Ilu, but I find such responses a symptom of sloppy thinking. I like to hang back a bit with my thoughts before coming o...

Thu, 26 Dec, 2019 16.18 UTC

I spent a few months on and off, that is to say, not very consistently, attempting to get this blog __Activity Pub Sensitive__. There were many false starts, many moments where I gave up, many spilled comestibles and one or two plagues of sentient lice. In the end, my implementation is far from *perfect* or *finished*, but it does what I need it to do for now. I'm in metaphysical debt to the following: - [Activity Pub as it has Been Understood](https://flak.tedunangst.com/post/ActivityPub-as-it-has-been-un...

Bare music
Sun, 25 Aug, 2019 07.01 UTC

When it comes to #music, any piece that doesn't contain an underlying current of melancholy or a smattering of anxiety isn't ever going to be regarded as _great_ in my inked book. I consider the two emotions the basis of quality art, or, translated into more humble terms, *art that appeals to the inner goat*. I quickly lose interest in pieces that ooze what some would call *joy* or *ecstasy*. Their surface is too transparent. There is usually little beneath. Thus, *club* or *dance* music, in the modern se...

Mon, 12 Aug, 2019 09.36 UTC

Yesterday, I asked Christián for his opinion of the percussion in a short piece I'd written for Dani's short film. At one point, he asked me, __What are you trying to accomplish?__ I made up some bullshit about a statue of the Buddha with a pistol on a beach on the Baltic Sea, waves lapping at its base. A module in my collective mind reacted before my more mature modules could stop it. It feared that without an initial #narrative to back the piece of music up, the whole process was meaningless. Even after o...

Sat, 10 Aug, 2019 08.57 UTC

What remains, in my mind, in the soundtrack to Dani's newest short film, austerely entitled *Sheriff*, is one more short piece. I'm not counting the two #SirAlfredIV remakes that still have to be done. Forcing Christián to sing *A House of Strength and Love* will be a chore. Oh, he'll sing it well and be willing, but he is anything but timely when collaborating on #music. His main problem, obviously, is that he has no access to Romanian Prostitutes in South Carolina (subsequently known as *The Pit*). Being ...

Fri, 09 Aug, 2019 15.03 UTC

The initial purpose of this entry is to test a new #blog functionality. An astute reader will notice the hash symbol in front of the word *blog* in the previous sentence. After reading about the Linux / MacOS command line application *JRNL*, I decided that dispensing with my ubiquitous *topic header* shall be done today. The original format of these entries, all written in either *Emacs* or *Vim*, of course, since I am **old school**, is a series of headers terminated by newlines. One of them is *Topic*, af...

Sun, 21 Jul, 2019 13.24 UTC

Whilst chatting with Herr Neumann earlier today, I was reminded of something I used to think about often: Relationships fail when they begin with the partners pretending to be something other than they will be in every day life later on. Christián's current obsession with Isa reminds me of this truth - a truth that is evident when one steps outside of the circumstance. Many people go into the dating game, which is just a shortcut to saying *an entraceway into a romantic relationship* acting utterly unlike ...

Sun, 21 Jul, 2019 11.02 UTC

Yesterday, as the baleful sun began its descent across the jagged horizon, I walked with Marisa along the dusty road to *Tres Aguas*. She's been preoccupied lately because one of her tenants in the apartment on *Madre de Dios* has lost his job and thus is expelling himself from Logroño. Worry eats at her. She fixates on worry. It's a genetic burr in her family, methinks. I doubt it can be removed and in any case, I'm done with trying to alter peoples' personalities. That was the Bobbus of fifteen or more ye...

Thu, 18 Jul, 2019 08.17 UTC

Perhaps the subject of this entry should be *An Ever Enveloping Cage* instead of *An Ever Expanding Cage*. The latter, an unfortunate mistake that I could easily reach up and change with my agile cursor and typing skills but shall not since it would eliminate the need for this sentence, signifies the same as what scientists of the modern age bark when they refer to the *expansion of the universe*. It's stretchy. If my *cage* is also stretchy, then it doesn't move to accompany other philosophies, ideals and ...

Along with martens, goulish goats and the rippling fen -
these writings 1993-2021 by Bob Murry Shelton are licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

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