tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61674952011-07-11T12:31:36.909-04:00Musings, rants, diatribes, recollections, inspirations, and of course, whatnot.Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.comBlogger601100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-18342902408143907162009-04-05T13:27:00.002-04:002009-04-05T13:30:31.063-04:00

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-60332461233032921922009-03-02T14:34:00.002-05:002009-03-02T14:47:58.084-05:00

The nature of time and space is a tricky thing. But I saw a swimming turtle yesterday that was remarkably fast. In the water, the turtle moved adeptly and unpredictably. It moved at a curious speed; it was the previously undefined Murphy Velocity.Murphy Velocity is an almost infinitely variable number, with the principle characteristic of it being the wrong velocity for what you want to do. This

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-75691102428717446462009-02-25T16:04:00.002-05:002009-02-25T16:22:57.170-05:00

Layers of complexity abound, all designed to make things simpler. Well, maybe not simpler as a goal, but definitely smoother, faster, efficienter. But what to do, what to do..Ideas abound, all designed to create and improve. Creation in itself is all fire and flow, but the fire can fade and the flow can be stilled, stagnant. Addiction to Creation is a harsh taskmistress. Improvement is less

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-24880195256688127512009-02-23T10:39:00.002-05:002009-02-23T10:50:22.026-05:00

Flux is the word of the day, with change rearing it's ugly head with disturbing regularity. Things we think are sure and certain as bedrock transform with startling speed. Solidity becomes a vague memory as we enter a realm where commitment is illusion and uncertainty is like gravity.When the worm turns and tries to scratch your eyes out, clinging to the past is a fool's sanctuary. So what do we

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-33076551348632641142009-02-06T10:11:00.002-05:002009-02-06T10:26:03.484-05:00

Sometimes, when I ponder the importance of hard-won knowledge and skills, I am appalled by the vastness of what is left. Even given the inevitable exclusionary choices that reduce our knowledge goals from an amorphous mass to a defined path, progress seems achingly slow. Time is an accelerating commodity, and unfortunately our perceptions and information intake rates are not. That's when

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-34732857265170457022009-02-02T15:31:00.002-05:002009-02-02T15:47:12.645-05:00

So gross today. I'm eagerly awaiting being laid off; I just can't freaking wait. So today, all of our phones died at once. I really thought for a few seconds that we had finally made it. But then they came back online.. {insert sad smiley face}On the other hand, I was actually awake at a reasonable time this morning and was (gasp) early to work. Guess it was the alcohol before and at the Super

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-75610635812103617622009-01-30T15:44:00.002-05:002009-01-30T16:18:51.735-05:00

Our battle with time is like a Tug-o-War against an invincible opponent who is toying with you. The rope of your personal time can be easy to hold, moving only slowly. Or it can speed through your hands, disappearing forever in fits and starts, burning your palms as it goes.Physicists say that time began with the Big Bang. The phrase 'before the Big Bang' has no meaning in their universe. In our

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-35929480005149604832009-01-30T11:08:00.002-05:002009-01-30T11:25:07.082-05:00

I've decided to start using this again. Probably no one looking, but I find it really doesn't matter. What is important is to write, and write often. Using language, even for banal details of my life is something that can only help.The past several months have flown by in a haze of desperate labor and solitude. The labor, while purposeful, is now revealed to be a distraction. Keeping busy allows

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-63748670230584726572008-04-14T22:41:00.002-04:002008-04-14T22:58:09.494-04:00

The machinery, so long dormant, finds a path to the light. Or is it the light that finds the machinery? No matter... the result is the same. Gears creak into motion, the detritus of eons in the dark crunching between the teeth and then falling to the depths like ebony snowfall...The machinery stutters and stalls, banging and wailing against it's bonds, while the dark chuckles and tries to find a

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1164653177864488882006-11-27T13:11:00.000-05:002007-01-20T14:51:04.773-05:00

Does she know?The power she haswith one toss of her hairor the sound of her laughterfull-throated or mildor the touch of her handsoft and then firmneedful yet teasingor the flow of her wordshow excited then saddreamy but so drivenor a look from those eyesso fear-filled and wiseDoes she know?How helpless it makes me...

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1164235762646688992006-11-22T17:07:00.000-05:002006-12-26T02:53:39.860-05:00

Alright, a long time since I posted last, and a lot has happened.Let's see, I completed my degree requirements, got a shiny new job, had to start renting a room from a family member (as I was down to my last $20 before the job kicked in), found an exciting mission in a startup nonprofit, came up with a great business idea that could ensure my financial future, started getting in shape, and

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1139268522446242202006-02-06T18:07:00.000-05:002006-06-24T15:31:17.910-04:00

A 'Thing Unlooked For' may have occurred.In other news... I can feel the clutches of Solis, Demon of Loneliness starting to penetrate my armor. Maybe it's the glimmer of the TUF raising its fetching head. Maybe it's the roommates (very) occasionally having a life, or maybe it's the inevitable emergence from the darkened tunnel. How to fend off the Demon, and whether I can, and whether I should,

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1138908382125940892006-02-02T14:19:00.000-05:002006-02-02T14:26:22.136-05:00

Outside a timea cry and a thrashcrimson wave curlingbloody sand stickshandprints become stonea plate of blue fruitbeckons so yummyhelpless to poisonnibbling me througha tiny nightmarein the day.

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1138830985733332972006-02-01T16:48:00.000-05:002006-02-01T23:11:49.823-05:00

I had a shocking moment in my Drawing (for Dummies) class today. Now, my artistic skills have been likened to your average kindergartener, with extensive use of stick figures predominating and a complete lack of any kind of actual straight lines, so the elementary Drawing class has still seemed to be far too advanced for me. But today, I drew something that was actually recognizable as the thing

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1137711508966487832006-01-19T17:49:00.000-05:002006-01-20T09:22:16.586-05:00

My mind lost a day today. It was a subtle thing, this losing of a day. There was no fanfare, or sudden musical sting, or even a shocked gasp. I just awoke, totally convinced that it was Friday instead of Thursday. What can alter my perception like that? Granted, my grasp on reality and time has often been a fingertipish one, but you'd think I'd at least know what day it was. Now the plans to get

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1131669112368457182005-11-10T18:51:00.000-05:002005-11-10T19:31:52.406-05:00

I meet some strange people in the course of a day. A girl in my class babbled non-stop for 45 minutes about some RPG she used to play a couple of years ago. Do we really need the details of how her Mage got killed?A guy in the same class has made the most horrendous attempt at an assignment I've ever seen and the teacher is too nice to set him straight. I mean, it looks like he actually drew on

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1129857592687511892005-10-20T19:40:00.000-04:002005-10-20T21:19:52.723-04:00

'For the first time in the tiny island's history, not one, but two of Ralia's youths had been Called. The resulting firestorm of celebration, debauchery, and rumor-mongering had basically ground the economy to a complete standstill. The Elders didn't press the issue. It doesn't help your authority to tell people to get back to work and have them laugh in your face. But not everyone was happy

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1128630716416998442005-10-06T16:05:00.000-04:002005-10-06T16:31:56.433-04:00

Ah, how much can change betwixt posts...For those I haven't spoken to, the horrific MRI I described found absolutely nothing wrong with my knee. So why does it hurt? It seems its just a muscle/tendon/ligament/something imbalance that just creates inflammation and tenderness. The way to fix something like this is physical therapy sessions ad infinitum, which predictably, I have failed to schedule.

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1125622467349501452005-09-01T20:38:00.000-04:002005-09-01T20:54:27.356-04:00

I had to go in for an MRI for the bum knee today, and I must say that it was a truly excrutiating experience. To be forced to be absolutely still for 5-6 minutes at a time doesn't seem so hard. Until you're lying there with an maddening itch on your shin, or an astoundingly loud sneeze forcing its way out, or your back yodeling because you're lying on an extremely firm table, or even your fingers

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1121440166668376502005-07-15T10:54:00.000-04:002005-07-15T11:09:26.676-04:00

A long gap between entries, eh? I just haven't had much to talk about, with a life, heart, mind, and soul stuck in the quagmire of mediocrity. The basic tenet dominating my mindscape is disgust. My job, my body, my personal life, my relations to my family, my lack of writing, my video game obsession, my living conditions, my prospects, etc... All pretty much disgusting. But is there light in the

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1114473705231376362005-04-25T19:49:00.000-04:002005-04-25T20:01:45.233-04:00

I think I actually managed to do less than a half-hour's work today. I feel so accomplished!After showing up approximately 20 minutes late, (thereby missing the god-awful Monday Morning Meeting) I then proceeded to waste an entire day, helped along by eating breakfast for about an hour or so and then leaving for lunch/errands for an hour and 40 minutes. I talked to one customer for around 20

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1114042421598395062005-04-20T19:55:00.000-04:002005-04-20T20:13:41.600-04:00

I can't understand why the people in my extremely crappy apartment complex feel the need to spend their leisure time in our extremely nasty, garbage strewn, glass shard infested, demolition-derby-esque parking lot. And let their kids run around between the flying beer bottles and the speeding low-riders with the major bass distortion.In my head I tend to gloss over the psychological impact of how

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1113402608674056242005-04-13T10:16:00.000-04:002005-04-13T10:30:08.676-04:00

I had an interesting moment last week. In one of my stories (still languishing in need of a re-write) there is a character named, creatively enough, The Old Security Guard. I didn't really feel the need to come up with a name for him because it just wasn't important to the story, ya know? But at the Writer's Conference I was kind of zoning out during one of the presentations thinking about

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1110845548247199552005-03-14T19:03:00.000-05:002005-03-14T19:12:28.250-05:00

My Systems Analysis class has really driven me to the point of hypochondria. Sitting there listening to the droning, I keep developing itchy eyes, splitting headaches, and whatever else my brain can invent. I try to tell it that this is necessary. I just need a few more classes to finally get that freaking degree, and this happens to be one of them. But it won't listen. It doesn't like the

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1110417064179868632005-03-09T19:39:00.000-05:002005-03-09T20:11:04.183-05:00

Being tired is getting to be a constant companion now. I had to go into work today(my only day off) to finalize a couple deals from which I made very little money. Certainly not enough to buy the shack on the San Diego beach I've got my eye on. But maybe enough for a change of clothes and a tankfull of gas. Is it worth it? Should I have done it? Where will it end? Who can say? Who the hell am I

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1110298775462417092005-03-08T10:57:00.000-05:002005-03-08T11:19:35.463-05:00

Susan raises an interesting point over at Spinning about the audience reaction and writing. If an audience doesn't 'get' or 'see' what you were trying to show them, is it the writing's fault? Well, to me anyway, its yes. And no.An image or idea can fail to transmit for any number of reasons. Improper presentation. Foreign references. Over(or under)-profundity than was expected. Lazy reading. Lazy

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1109481411321073292005-02-26T23:48:00.000-05:002005-02-27T00:17:41.376-05:00

I've been pondering the nature of control. What is it in our nature that makes us want to grab the reins, to take the wheel, to utter the cliche? And when it comes to writing, is control something you actually want?In a workshop of a story I wrote recently, there were a lot of questions and suggestions of how to alter and mold it. But the way I wrote it wasn't about control. I thought of the

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1109393487480223202005-02-25T23:26:00.000-05:002005-02-25T23:51:27.483-05:00

LoaferConstant chatter swirling sadlyDiving dreamer plunges madlyBiting babies softly nursingPulsing currents to and fro-ingMonkeys shooting pinching furiesAncients roaming pointless journeysLordlings churn releasing mightYet whales vanish without a fight.}:)P.S. I know, I know. What the fuck, right?

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1109305449007357072005-02-24T23:12:00.000-05:002005-02-24T23:24:09.006-05:00

Coma over...I emerge from my cocoon and blink new-eyed at the world, my mental transformation in place. The new thoughtways are rough and raw with newness. The old dark channels long for my consciousness. I can't predict what's gonna come of this attempted evolution. But now, I have one thing to go with my quiver of ideas, my sarcasmic armor, my strong sword arm.I have some hope.}:)P.S. Armor

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1102307143324190312004-12-05T23:13:00.000-05:002004-12-05T23:25:43.326-05:00

My sword arm is tired. I stand on the slope of a hill with blood streaming from a dozen wounds or more. But I don't feel the pain of my torn skin and shredded flesh. I don't feel the sting of sweat dripping into my eyes, or the sullen resentful gurgles floating up from my empty belly, or even the dull throbbing from my partially crushed foot. Just the arm. A score of warriors at least have fallen

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1098901738882622552004-10-27T14:12:00.000-04:002004-10-27T14:28:58.883-04:00

In reviewing several online multimedia/poetry/crap pieces for New Media class, I was struck by how prevalent the desire to be strange is, in the forefront of innovation. These pieces were filled with rapid graphic transitions (you know, the kind that inspire migraines), and truly incomprehensible dialogue. You get the feeling looking at these works that the creator actually was faced with choices

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1095888176056169072004-09-22T17:06:00.000-04:002004-09-22T17:22:56.056-04:00

My mind has been on hiatus for the last few months. It's pretty much been work, computer, sleep, work, computer, sleep. Most of the thoughts that I did have are now forever lost to me. I had dozens of story, game, and movie ideas that I failed to write down for one dumbass reason or another. The ideas I have pending are moldering away for lack of attention. I looked through my idea book yesterday

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1090899499585108272004-07-26T23:27:00.000-04:002004-07-26T23:38:19.586-04:00

I've always been obsessed with hitting the reset button on things. It seems like such a magical power, to be able to clear away the clutter and wreckage of our mistakes and missteps with the push of a button. Beep! And its all gone to black. Time to start over and watch those pitfalls on the way through this time. But this should be the last time. I'll be able to do it right now. No more having

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1090379186561478522004-07-20T22:35:00.000-04:002004-07-20T23:06:57.586-04:00

I got ahold of some older games the other day, and it was interesting how compelling they still are. People always say that older games were better, but I kind of just shrughed it off as a cliche and as 'Good-Old-Days-itis' . But I'm starting to believe it myself. I was playing 'Danger Dave', an astonishingly primitive game that could have probably played on the Apple IIC I had when I was like

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1089681826064616002004-07-12T21:10:00.000-04:002004-07-12T21:23:46.066-04:00

I see a land far away. A land where dreams flow in streams, and thoughts breed like locusts. Creation grows swiftly, rising tall to the sun of inspiration. Spirits of fire walk this land, smiting the unwary traveler, driving flames into the flesh. Predators stalk and prey flee, joyfully, for in this dance is life, and all it holds in its grasp. The air glimmers ceaselessly with the sparks of

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1089166409658456422004-07-06T21:56:00.000-04:002004-07-06T22:12:16.536-04:00

Things have been going a little wonky recently. Examples? 1. I moved into my shiny new apartment, el cheapo w/ heat and hot water and annoying neighbors included. And the for last two days the hot water was turned off. 2. The guy came to hook up the Internet(mucho importante!), the cable, and the phone (which I barely use). And the genius forgot to hook up the phone. Now, I have to wait like a

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1087962612953945252004-06-22T23:32:00.000-04:002004-06-22T23:50:12.953-04:00

Without being too too blunt, I feel like a complete dumbass. I waste time like I've got a bottomless satchel of it on my hip. What exactly have I accomplished in this life? People say I need more ties to this world, but I feel like this is the only way to see the truth. When another's world touches mine, even if only for an instant, I get off track, off the pace. I'm moving this week, to a

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1087395061155292702004-06-16T09:36:00.000-04:002004-06-16T10:11:01.156-04:00

Crikey! Its been so long that my fingers are crackling with rust spots breaking up. I knew there was something that was suffering besides my sleep patterns that was suffering because of my Extreme Working regimen. :) In my travels around the net the last few days, I've taken a hard look at blogs. And I've got to say that in the hundreds (twenty maybe?) of blogs I looked at, there was a

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1083006512788071442004-04-26T15:08:00.000-04:002004-04-26T15:12:46.090-04:00

I was thinking about my life the other day, and I had an(other) epiphany. I'm atoning for something. The only question now is what it is I'm atoning for. I haven't been that bad of a guy. I've never beaten a woman, never robbed, raped, or pillaged, never (purposefully) hurt someone I cared about, never done anything wholly unethical on the job, never taken any illegal drugs nor any legal ones for

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1083005149012606632004-04-26T14:45:00.000-04:002004-04-26T14:50:01.796-04:00

3. Enviros Description: An insidious corrupter, Enviros uses the things all around us to block our efforts. A demon of distractions, it uses the people around us, the noises, the pangs of our bellies, the other interesting clickables on our computer screens, jobs, bills, bank accounts, Yankees/Red Sox matchups, the diabolically inspired summer movie schedule, and a billion other tools including

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1082391158541880992004-04-19T12:12:00.000-04:002004-04-19T12:16:42.043-04:00

Its been a long time betwixt posts, due mainly to the 70-hour work weeks I've been clocking, but also because my computer suffered a total, irreversible, catastrophic, class IV meltdown. So...it took me a couple days to fix it. }:) What have I been thinking about? Well, a lot of things. The futility of the current political system. The nature of ennui and atonement. The impending chest-puffing

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1079999200849650082004-03-22T18:46:00.000-05:002004-03-22T18:52:49.623-05:00

2. Sloth Description: A mighty demon indeed, Sloth takes a much longer view than most. It knows that as puny mortals, we only have a very short time before death or dementia takes us. And either will end the writer's travails. A thousand masterpieces may wait buried within us all and as every one passes that we now won't have time to write before the end, Sloth chuckles and gloats. How many

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1078784073030402862004-03-08T17:14:00.000-05:002004-03-08T17:17:39.153-05:00

What are the writer's demons? What are the things that stalk us, leeching our potential and dropping stumbling blocks in the path of our destiny? 1. Unconfidence Description: The chief destroyer. The one upon which many other demons depend for sustenance. Unconfidence in your work, in your vision, in your potential, in your talent. This is the basis for comments like, 'I can't write', 'Its just

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1078782230701634372004-03-08T16:43:00.000-05:002004-03-08T16:46:56.403-05:00

You know, its actually quite amazing how much time is spent in writing (as in life) getting to know people. Our whole world is centered around them, in fact. You may consider them divine creations, or big-brained apes, or even alien experiments, but they're still the most important thing. Writer, retailer, police officer, serial killer, even a hermit (though they're primarily concerned with

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1077668683448428092004-02-24T19:24:00.000-05:002004-02-24T19:27:31.686-05:00

My lack of interest in Programming is starting to become obvious to me. I never thought industrial-level programming was going to be my cup of tea, but I was hoping one of the classes I've taken was going to jump out and grab me by the armpit hairs. But it seems like I was a samurai trying to learn blacksmithery to make my own swords or something. Didn't happen. So what to do? How to proceed,

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1077588000306280882004-02-23T21:00:00.000-05:002004-02-24T18:35:20.763-05:00

Have you ever thought about what tools you actually need in your toolbox? I think about that a lot when I'm on my computer at home. I have a ridiculously large assortment of advanced tools, nifty gadgets, and neat little widgets that do various tasks. I have a program that can join video files together so you can view them in one sitting. I have another doodad that can rename multiple files in

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1077055843135956352004-02-17T17:10:00.000-05:002004-02-17T17:13:21.873-05:00

I wasn't going to comment on the 'Great Nipple Controversy', but I just felt the need to. The conservatives are outraged that someone would dare expose a nipple on national television where impressionable young kiddies could see it. The liberals are outraged that the conservatives are making such a big deal about what is simply a natural part of the human body. Well, except for the obvious

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1075763449933859182004-02-02T18:10:00.000-05:002004-02-02T18:14:48.436-05:00

Drama is an interesting phenomenon. Why do some dramatic elements move us and others don't? I was watching the Buffy the Vampire Slayer season 6 finale the other day, and it is ridiculously emotionally wrenching to me. The evil blossoming from the goodest of the do-gooders, the unexpected twists and the blindsiding turns, and of course, the large amounts of ocular saline flowing. But then I watch

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1075240331044650442004-01-27T16:52:00.000-05:002004-01-27T16:54:20.216-05:00

I got a piece of mail the other day which drove away a good percentage of my depression spiders. It was my first professional rejection letter! Now those of you who know me may think I have ample experience with rejection already, but this was entirely different. It marked a transition, a really important milestone in my glorious destiny. No longer am I just a neophyte writer with delusional

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1074362252731143092004-01-17T12:57:00.000-05:002004-01-17T12:59:27.873-05:00

Remember all of that mess I typed about getting back to work? Well, you can scrap that idea! I've been doing everything in my power to actually avoid doing any kind of work on my writing. Been feeling pretty down in the dumps, and it just makes me want to do things of a mind-numbing nature. I'm almost all caught up on my downloaded TV shows, I've actually spent some time playing video games, I

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1073025500080590742004-01-02T01:38:00.000-05:002004-01-03T12:12:29.093-05:00

In all the hubbub and depth of our lives, it's important to not take ourselves too seriously. It's too easy to assign our goals 'Golden Fleece' level importance. We're not Argonauts, we're just sifting through our scribblings for nuggets. Not necessarily gold or silver, but we're definitely looking for something other than slag or stone. Sometimes, the dream can be all-consuming and fill our

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1072650365077831172003-12-28T17:26:00.000-05:002003-12-28T17:28:30.410-05:00

Time to get back to work. The unholiday has come and gone, and wreaked minimal havoc in its passing. My mighty efforts proved sufficient to blunt its terrible force. I've got a story ready to go, called 'Busts'. I've just got to write the rest of it, but it seems readily available to my consciousness. I've got several dozen things of an administrative nature to take care of as well, and we know

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1072307792311812962003-12-24T18:16:00.000-05:002003-12-24T18:16:48.343-05:00

Another year is gone, and the global pestilence that is Christmas is upon us. It was once a solemn religious celebration of the birth of a religious leader worshipped by a large percentage of the world's population. Since then, its been corrupted into a shrine to the twin golden calves of capitalism and a man in a red suit. And what's with this Santa person? He's supposedly a fat old man who

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1071993624713391942003-12-21T03:00:00.000-05:002003-12-21T03:00:40.066-05:00

I had one of those monumentally earth-shattering personal insights that make you look at yourself and your life, and consider things in a new way. I always pride myself on my ideas, on my ability to see things in a new, better light. My Making may not be up to my Dreaming, but that's more a path than a goal. But what if my ideas are an accident rather than a gift? When I was young, after my

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1071808976049512422003-12-18T23:42:00.000-05:002003-12-18T23:45:39.600-05:00

Ahhh, I feel slightly spring-like. Its interesting how a connection with someone can totally switch on parts of yourself that you thought long buried, repressed, and better off gone. New subject, not gonna jinx it. My hell week is just about done, and I am so looking forward to relaxing. Yeah, right. As if I wouldn't take my unstructured free time and add a task list, projects to work on, and an

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1071258675640873312003-12-12T14:51:00.000-05:002003-12-12T14:51:28.006-05:00

Its pedal to the metal time, and it feels damned good. Those who saw my bitching about my classes before deserve an update. I was slacking off badly, and now have to make a heroic last-ditch effort to get everything done. It makes me feel alive to have a full plate for once. I had to reschedule some exams around the upcoming Virginia trip. I'm hoping to do all the things (in two days) that I was

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1071181458759573802003-12-11T17:24:00.000-05:002003-12-11T19:39:55.016-05:00

The answer to most problems in life is to just go with your gut. Do what feels right. Go with your first answer. Feel the force flow. In 'Writing Down the Bones', an extremely flowery and scattered treatise on writing, the author definitely espouses this philosophy. She even talks about running a poetry booth at a country fair. People came in, gave her a subject and a dollar, and she wrote them

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1071100743678299902003-12-10T18:59:00.000-05:002003-12-10T18:59:15.480-05:00

Time flies no matter what you're having. Fun, boredom, excrutiating agony, it's all the same. At least that's my feeling. There must be some alien force that sucks at our time reserves and then (just for amusement's sake) crams 800 things in for us to do at once. I got involved in a political discussion in the cafeteria today, which those of you who have been in the Tunxis cafeteria know are as

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1070860391180955452003-12-08T00:13:00.000-05:002003-12-08T00:15:47.570-05:00

My mind has turned to the mysteries of the universe today. Not the big stuff, meaning of life dreckola and the like, but the real nitty-gritty everyday enigmas. Life is filled with them. I notice them everywhere. An example? How about light switches? I've seen so many ridiculous contradictions and paradoxes surrounding light switches its, well...ridiculous. In the house I grew up in, (a circa

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6167495.post-1070673009767793732003-12-05T20:10:00.000-05:002003-12-05T20:12:50.923-05:00

I decided on Thursday to start this new journal. My Blurty one worked for a while, but without the ability to put links up and so forth, it just doesn't keep up. So I made a much niftier blogspot one, as evidenced by you reading it. I have quite a bit to talk about, but after doing the set-up, tweaking it to my taste, and reading the other blogs around, my fingers are a little typed out. So,

Jasonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01193246759694992455noreply@blogger.com0