My parents informed me a few days ago that their friend Noka is now a corpse. Those are my words, of course, since, according to those who don't _get_ my so-called dark humour, I am an insensitive galoot. Be that as it may, Noka is now a corpse. Though it is a common thing, it still astounds me the ease at which a human can transition from a dynamic state into corpse-state. Noka experienced this transition after living for more than eighty-two years. According to my parents, she simply _gave up_. She had st...
Since November is, as they say in the old lands, _just around the leering hulk of the mutant termite mound_, I've begin to prepare initial ideas of tracks for the so-called _Noisevember_. Noise! Everyone likes noise. Noise is the ever present fluid that allows us to swim through life. Those who take time to sculpt it to be their own are exquisite or damned. One of the two or something lurking within the infinite in-between. Actually, one idea, currently titled _Mollusk Pantheon_ is mostly done. It blossomed...
So here I sit once again atop the bed, propped up like a mannequin and typing into _myx-nulu_, the trusty tablet with a cheap, bluetooth keyboard. Hey - it's part of the morning routine, so I am certainly not complaining. I swigged the remains of yesterday's Earl Grey with a dash of leche semi-desnatada. In a previous life, I always had a problem with the word _desnatada_. I saw it as something altogether different, such as _desinatana_ or something even stranger. I believe this springs from an acute dyslex...
Living by one's principles is similar going through life interacting with a universe of human life forms that are figments of one's own mind. It is a form of solipsism. Instead of seeing one's brother or step-mother or next-door neighbour as an incrementally changing, dynamic human life form, in place of that realism, one interacts with what I call an eidolon. An eidolon is a construct formed by these aforementioned principles. Thus, one's principles, or I could say _traditional family values_ or _tradition...
The current Project Euler is going to force me to create a program that does _manual division_ and that is quite ok, but it's getting late and yes that's an excuse, but fuck um. I shall write some hovno and then get on with my day, saving the _manual division_ for tomorrow morning. Hopefully, my sodden brain will muse over it throughout the current day and my sprightly morning mood will conquer it's flimsy heights with ease. But yes - tomorrow. I've begun the second revision of _Pony Ride_. It gurgles and ...
It's Kindle's birthday! Hooray! Why do I remember this? Well, my carefully worn metal file of a human, I remember this because it's the day before I pulled my foetal self out from the tipped-over test tube. What is Kindle doing during these tilted days? I'd imagine that Kindle is busy being happy ensconced within a family. Oouh, baby! Congratulations, Kindle! You are part of the mainstream. You made it. Yes! We all want to be like you. As that old song goes: ### We wanna be just like you ### We wanna be ju...
In my "relearning python" _sendero_, I just performed a Project Euler calculation involving the Fibonacci Sequence. No big deal, vole! Everyone knows how to create a Fibonacci sequence, but the whole episode, as easy as it turned out to be, brought me back to sitting on that futon-type couch in Tuzla toying with the music-making live-coding apparatus that used to (and may still) exist in Clojure. Does it? Ah, yes. It is called _overtone_, which is a suitable name, and upon a quick search I found it is close...
A perpetual rumble is the grey backdrop of the street below our apartment. It is the sound of constant motoring. Even if no car or motorcycle or scooter is passing, it exists. The impression the flow of machines across my consciousness has made over the seeming centuries painted the backdrop. Now it is a constant, even if in "reality" no machine exists to create the low, grinding buzz. It's so persistent that one'd think I'd carry it with me to other places. In a manner, I do, but only as a phantom. The lac...
The current draft of Union squirts from the speaker(s) of this tablet. The initial section will be attended to soon by the mixing module of my cerebrum, as the impressions it usually leaves on me is that of tenebrous, oily liquid. In one way, however, I do like how _dark_ it sounds. Perhaps _murky_ is a better word. The flow from the end of _Olšanské Hřbitovy_ into Christian's transition directly to the _murk_ may be just what the universe needs during this trying epoch. The remainder of the piece is more b...
In the early morning, which it is certainly not, one must have tea. Having stated that it is not (necessarily) early morning, do I have the requirement for tea? Yes. I must have tea. Why do I require tea if it is no longer early morning? The reason is the following: tea is omnipresent during all phases of time. The "length" of any arbitrary phase of time is immaterial. Thus, even though the original statement was that one must have tea in the early morning and it is currently no longer early morning, one mu...
Sometimes I **do** feel that being sessile like our omnipresent _friend_ Shambal Brambel'd be the best course of action. And, as Robert Calvert said: _There's only one course of action._ One wouldn't have to bustle thither and then hither unmaking, reassembling and poorly ascertaining the multitudinous building blocks of life. The sessile state is one of contemplation. The sessile state is one of concentration. The sessile state is one free of distraction. Well, unless you are stationed in the sessile state...
