Holy Chao

In the past 24 hours I spent over 10 of them driving to go to the wedding of my friend Kris, which was held in Dublin, Virginia, which is just this side of Bumfuck. I managed to leave yesterday morning, and get home today at 2AM. I am sore, tired, and my mind is slightly addled. I am very happy to have gone.

But I think in my life I have slaughtered too many of their sacred chaos. Blogs are bad.

No really, they are, but the barrier to entry is so convenient!

I really, really like going to Playa del Fuego, as it's a celebration of some of the best parts of humanity. It is such a friendly and accepting environment, I wish that it was possible to destroy our society and rebuild it with that fleeting place as a foundation. Perhaps my hope that the result would be different from what we have now is naive.

Somewhat ironically, one of the more popular activities was shunning an individual whom demonstrated herself incapable of responsibly enjoying the free environment of PDF. Reflecting, I think I bore a disproportionate responsibility in encouraging unkind, dissociative behavior. I am not regretful however, as making someone else clean up your shit (literally, in this case!) is in my opinion an abuse of the kind of environment that's fostered out in Delaware twice a year.

I do know that I made new friends, I gave and was given too, and I came home feeling absolutely exhausted but also very good about helping someone who got stranded. I hope he is granted the same opportunity I was to enjoy helping a stranger, and I hope he seizes the opportunity to turn the stranger into a friend.

It's fun! Diaphragm, diaphragm, diaphragm!

I feel it is all to often in the wending ways of life that we find ourselves weighed down by the emotional attachments we have wrought with others. When they work to our own demise, it can be very difficult to shed these chains.

The important thing to remember about changes like these, is that life does go on.

Those of you whom have not been residing under a rock, and I certainly hope they may comprise the majority of my bountiful readers, have probably acquainted themselves with the story of Andrew Meyer.

 

I find the entire events surrounding his meteoric rise to the public consciousness to be a superlative exercise in how not to conduct oneself.

Or maybe just a sense of humor.

Today is September the 16th, which means that five days ago was September 11th, 2007. I do not particularly like the scale of memorializing that occurs over the events of that day six years ago. And I am not just a callous, insensitive fool, as I'd attended the wedding of one of the victims killed that day merely one month prior.

No, the reason I bring up the 11th of September is because five days ago was the last time I was discussing the fear of death.

This, being the sum deposit of mental overflow and other cerebral waste of a man who prides himself on his independence, rationality, and acceptance of the will of others, shall commence the self-aggrandizing autobiographical account of what is certain to be the least influential figure in the millennium which yawns forth before us all.

One may find solace, comfort, and comradery here if one possesses interests in the arts of philosophy, logic, prose, software, or the brewing of coffee. Those for whom the act of driving is more than a utilitarian exercise, for whom the act of learning is not to be escaped, or for whom the act of motorcycling is counted among thy interests shall likewise feel at home.

As the mood strikes me I shall write for an audience, and I would be honored for you to join it.