AUTHOR.CALHO: If I didn't write it, I would be hitch hiking cross country to Maine and then Alaska in that order. While taking frequent breaks to spread leaflets. And sit in diners. And write on things because I wasn't at a computer. I may still do that in a few years. Writing this also helps me forget about and better understand the limitations of being human, and keeps me busy enough to allow me no free time to burn the world down.

THEMATIC.ABOUT : Collapse often. The things that hold people together and hold them apart and scatter brains. The things that make thoughts go boom. The things that ooh and aah and [expletive deleted]. Sometimes poking around the margins where responsibility ends and the only one to look to is the Original Equipment Manufacturer and say "but, I already pressed 9 for more options and the menus are exactly the same. Can you just replace it?" The answer will be: "please hold." Sometimes hanging out in dark corners. Sometimes following the train tracks. Looking for ways out and ways in and all the while sharing the things seen and heard and done and drawn and written and scorched and healed and teased and caged and dreamed along the way.

7/21/10

"Weed Is For Slackers..."

...a good friend of mine once said a long time ago. I wasn't arguing. I think the fist she drove into her open palm for good emphasis was directed mainly at the "across the hall" neighbor (who ended up working for Microsoft somehow) and their fragrant escapades.

Not that you would ever doubt me (or that I would ever doubt myself... EVER...) this is where Bits is at right now. I have not been slacking:



I'm ironing out the php and creating page templates from scritcha scratch so that they do exactly what I want them to, every single time I ask them to. It makes it a little bit easier since I plan on doing all of the graphics for it, but also it'll be a nice thing to put on my resume when it's done. The wealth of knowledge I'm gaining from this project is enormous. At first it was like trying to bite into an uncut watermelon straight off of the vine, but through ceaselessly kicking that mother fucker I've broken it up into pieces that sort of fit in my mouth (or at least fit in my hands comfortably enough to chuck them at the birds outside my window when I get really frustrated, which is almost as satisfying, but I digress).

I now know more about sql, php, js, and web hosting than I ever thought I would. The best thing about it is that sitting down at my terminal feels less like walking up to the black mouth of a cave belonging to an agitated dragon, and feels much more like going to visit a somewhat grumpy uncle. I guess I'm trying to say that the thing has finally become doable. I can look at the code and csv and the tables and css and I can see what they're doing between the lines.

It's like if Tony Montana did so much coke that he finally became permanently wired and no longer needed coke to become super Tony. Or like Peter Pan smoking so much pixie dust that... I'm not really sure if this is making sense anymore. I've been up way too late.

Onward to the morning star. Well I wanted to do a drawing for you. It was going to be a self portrait. Then I wanted to make a teddy bear face. In the end this is what came out of my head. I'm not happy with it. But more than unhappiness, I don't want to have nothing to show for the past hour of my life, sorry in advance:



Hopefully next efforts will turn out better in that department.

///The Orb - "Vuja De" "It's the way that you hold me."
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