Monday, April 12, 2004

I am continually amazed, browsing the blogger world, about the quality of writing and storytelling out there, published, viewable, addictively on the Internet. I randomly ran into Dave Barnharts blog, while looking for Powdermilk Biscuit t-shirts via Google, which took me to Real Live Preacher, which took me to Correction. Along with some titillating ventures off of Vulgar Homelitics. I am so enthralled by this hyperlinked world that my Sunday times still sits unread on my piano bench tonight. And Information Architecture for the World Wide Web probably won't get cracked open at all until Wednesday. Were it only possible to smell each page, rather than visually digest 9:27:05 PM

One of the scary things about people understanding that memes are more important than mere genes is that unless they are connected with the collective whole, and see only their own individuation, or are motivated by some self-destructive religion, they may more towards memes that are themselves destructive, or destructive, dehumanizing in the process. I was talking tonight with Megan and other Sqwires folks - mainly Megan - about learning not so much the game itself, but how to step outside the game, learn it as you learn the world outside, and be able at any time to step back inside the game and do what you need to do, ideally help bring light into the game. Her immediate interpretation was that I was talking about money. I tried to explain that money is just one aspect of the game, not the game itself, and that playing the game well, outside the game itself, required not being hung up on money, one way or another. I told them the story of Rahul telling me that I should live my life as if I had a million dollars, as if I had no financial worries, which was, unfortunately, interpreted again in the strictly materialistic sense, which is the opposite of what it is meant to inspire. I realized last night that one of the things that bums me out about having so many of my best friends spread out all over the country is that now that they all have or are having kids is that I won't see them nearly often enough nor for enough length of time to earn my reputation as Crazy Uncle Ben. I feel as if I am just going to be a big disappointment with the build up to every trip. They'll expect Father Christmas, some fire and brimstone, quarters pulled out from behind the ears at the very least, and all they'll get is a slightly quirky guy. That's the thing I realized is that I'm not crazy flashy, but a persistent collection of minor quirks, and that kind of craziness takes time to recognize. 2:22:43 AM