By the way, "clueless" is one of those idioms that no one will understand one hundred years from now.

H


ere's a new site I found while going through my logs: a religious hate site link compilation. Some of the sites listed are just the thing to keep eyes open here on the graveyard shift. But guess what? My Witchcraft Flyer is right there shoulder to shoulder with "Halloween: A Christian Perspective" and God Hates Fags Dot Com. I don't know whether to laugh or to cry. I think I'll laugh.

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A


fter work I dropped the Dart off at a JPA-area garage to have its right rear bearings replaced. It's a little spooky driving it around with an expired registration (evidence of which is clear on the license plates). But I'm a risk taker. And besides, cops are usually clueless. By the way, "clueless" is one of those idioms that no one will understand one hundred years from now.

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It's that German perfectionist gene kicking in, shouting through a haze of French decadence genes while a British gene whispers "fuck this shite, let's roadtrip!"

S


ometimes my life is overtaken by a vague panic that I'm losing (or else breaking) all my possessions. I've had that feeling lately. I can't find a pair of 1 megabyte SIMMs that I want to incorporate into an old Mac SE equipped with an 030 accelerator card. The SIMMs are worth practically nothing, I know, but their absence has set a switch in my head. I've spent hours rooting around in my extremely messy room trying to find them, to no avail. A little good has come from this whole pathetic adventure; in the process I've found other things I'd thought I'd lost: a pair of needle-nose pliers and a videotape of the Jehu End of the World Party. Still, I'm unsatisfied and unable to concentrate.

Little things eat at me almost as much as big things. It's that German perfectionist gene kicking in, shouting through a haze of French decadence genes while a British gene whispers "fuck this shite, let's roadtrip!" An astrological perspective might make about as much sense, but an ethnic breakdown is more fun just now.

He owes us big time, but chances are we'll hardly even remain friends once he's gone.

I hung out in the evening with Matthew Hart, Angela, Deya and Monster Boy. Monster Boy has announced that he is moving out on the first of the month. It means less competition for the bathroom and less stinky sock smell in exchange for less furniture and only a tiny bit less rent. He had it easy at our house, and he owes us big time, but chances are we'll hardly even remain friends once he's gone. Our friendship with Monster Boy is a prime example of a bad social investment. I'm being bleak, I know, but sometimes I feel the need to be.

Elly has removed the archives of her journal from her site, but unbeknownst to her, the Internet Archive Project has created a multi-terabyte archive of the entire publicly-accessible Web.

The movie tonight (as it also was last night) was Basquiat. Mostly what is required of a movie at Kappa Mutha Fucka is heavy drug use by its principle protagonist. More happily, though, this movie (about the rise and fall of a young artist) had the effect of inspiring my housemates. Matthew Hart said, quite seriously mind you, that we should steal some paint so he can paint pictures. And Monster Boy asked me if using house paints for art is acceptable. My response was, "It's not archival, but do you really care?"

S


peaking of archives, tonight at Comet, I've been using the Alexa service to access archived pages from Elly's Slice of Cyberpie for my compilation of classic Elly journal entries. Elly has removed the archives of her journal from her site, but unbeknownst to her, the Internet Archive has created a multi-terabyte archive of the entire publicly-accessible Web. Many of her pages can be restored from Internet Archive tapes (accessed via robot - for that Buck Rogers panache), but the process is a slow one. All the classic Elly entries that I find will be archived on this site and be accessible through my Classic Elly page. I'm an important asset to the Internet community, huh?

By the way, thanks to Cory Glen for drawing Alexa to my attention (he read about it in David Siegel's journal).

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Get a sense of what I was like exactly one year ago today.

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