There's something reassuring about
picking up the phone and hearing that familiar noise. (No, not "krshhhhhh-HEY I JUST LOST CARRIER! WHO PICKED UP THE PHONE?!")
As long as you hear dial tone when you pick up the phone, you know
that the rest of the world still exists. Even with things changing faster than you
can cope with, the dial tone still sounds the same. And when you hear that, it means
that you can punch some numbers and be talking to one of your friends 12,000 miles
away in about 30 seconds. Or, you can forge a dialup connection to the internet and
have the thoughts and products of millions of people at your disposal. Ahhh.
Of course, it can also mean that someone has just hung up on you. Dial tone
is an end. Kinda like an airport. (scan scan scan... so my point is, dial tone is like
an airport? Abort topic.) The Art of Noise! I was just listening to an Art of Noise
CD (Best of) and I suddenly realized that I was listening to a song that I heard last
right before I bought my first 16 bit computer, the good ol' Amiga 500. (Actually, the
MC68000 processor had 32 bit architecture but whatever, I don't want to explain it) At the
computer store the sales people had an Amiga set up displaying a graphics and sound demo
by Newtek, which had this snappy soundtrack... It was really amazing for 1986. Multimedia
before the word was invented. Anyway the soundtrack got stuck in my head and would pop up
from time to time without naming itself...like every 2 years or so. I knew it was from the
demo. I wanted to hear it again so I could sharpen the details of the tune. And then just
now I heard it again. Yessss. Clarity. A part of my brain that has been using up run-time
since 1986 just got freed up. More to focus on code! Ha!
Actually as I am typing this it is 3:46 am, but I am NOT gonna draw that LED indicator again.
I'm fine with these february pages being all weird and unfinished. They are drafts after all.
They can be ugly, bandwidth intensive, illegible, and pointless. And so I'm just publishing what
I've got done at the time I go to bed. How can I do that? Easy. I figure maybe 4 people read this.
And they aren't gonna care much anyway.
- Ed, because it's the only way he can find out what I'm doing.
- Eviltoast, because she wants her CD and is waiting for me to say its done.
- Chad, at least until I give in and put Footguy on the MOD page. Heh heh.
- Joey. I'm not sure why. Joey, why do you read this crap?
Well anyway, hi guys. None a you signed my guestbook. Maybe you can't find it?
All right then, I'm sticking a huge guestbook button on this page. HIT IT. It's
not as if you must put something meaningful on it. Put whatever the hell you feel
like putting. "Mum Bum Mugga Wugga Mum Bum" is fine. Like scribbling on my house's
walls, okay? Okay.
Anyway... been reading everyone elses journals. Some really terrible things happen
to some good people. On one hand, I want to write to these people and tell them that
they didn't deserve it and that I wish I could help them. On the other hand, I figure
they probably have much closer friends than I, and I would be sticking my nose where it
is unwelcome. Hmm. I seem to remember telling myself that throughout intermediate school
as an excuse why I didn't get involved with anyone. Maybe I'm just afraid they will really
need someone to talk to and I'll turn out to be a real insensitive twit.
Okay, enough. I'm going to sleep and my phone line will go back to providing dial tone again.
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