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nanowrimo 2010


Diary of a Blind Madman

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nanowrimo 2010
Today's Movie Quote: "Women weaken legs!"

         I've been watching South Park lately. I can't precisely say why. I saw the episode My Future Self n' Me. At the end, Cartman's thin, prosperous future self appears to tell him that his decision not to eat a box of cookies is the turning point for him and that because of it he becomes a success. In disgust, Cartman eats the box of cookies and his future self balloons to obesity and his clothes reflect poverty and abuse. He looks at himself and swears in Cartmanesque fashion. I have this sneaking suspicion that I will be seated at this very computer one day and will have a brilliant inspiration, an Epiphany that can change my life, an idea for a novel, a realization to motivate me, a sudden revelation that will turn my life into what I have always wanted it to be, and that just as it becomes crystal clear I'm going to feel this distracting tap on my shoulder, driving the thought right out of my head, and I'm going to hear the words "Hi! I'm your future self! Do you know we live in Porlock now?" Damn it!

         In the long ago I actually looked up the location of Porlock. I never went there, though in the middle seventies it was a near thing. I envy my British and located-in-the-UK friends such as Abbi from Walkers in Darkness and ringbark who might one day wander through Porlock whether a-purpose or as a matter of happenstance. I don't suppose it is all that much of an attraction, but it seemed always that it would tweak my sense of the ironic to pay the place a visit. If there are any Porlockians (Porlockites, Porlockers, Porlocks?) reading this, drop me a postcard one day in hopes of distracting me, won't you?

         The Sofa Dream I had an exceedingly bizarre dream last night (even for me). A woman — with no distinguishing features that I remember — and I discovered a large black sofa with a furry sort of fabric. Nearby a middle-aged man and his son of some eight to ten years stood by and regarded us as we discovered that the skirt of the sofa had many zippers. The woman and I proceeded to unzip the sofa cover. This was a long and laborious process for some reason, but once done, we found that we could turn the cover inside out and discard some portion of it. This left us with a very long sofa that had what resembled a denim fabric, and a heap of fur at my feet. The man and his son regarded this solemnly and the boy went and sat on the sofa.

         The Interpretation (armchair psychology?) The sofa obviously represents sex. Since everyone in the dream is yourself, the woman was me. Since people in dreams can represent other people, the woman was also someone else. The man was the passive observer. The boy was the passive observer, but younger. The zippers represented masculinity. The Fur represented an unspeakable fetish of some sort or a possible bestiality fantasy depending on whether or not you think that unzipping the zippers was an aggressive or a passive act. The turning of the cover inside out indicates revelation or possibly a fascination with cooking. That fact that denim was revealed indicates that the revelation is plebeian in the extreme (or that the recipe is from one of those afternoon "Italian Eats" kind of cooking shows"). The heap of fur on the ground represents my untidy housekeeping habits and a general tendency toward furriness in my possessions (which tend to be coated in mold if I'm not careful). The fact that the boy went and sat on the sofa probably indicates some sort of cannibalistic tendencies unless the sofa did not represent sex in which case the boy was just tired. I'm sooo glad I'm in therapy!

         I wrote a poem today which I will post in louderpoetry after I have polished it a bit. I am of two minds about adding it to my website. I think I may abandon my website. My only misgivings along that line have to do with e-mail. I really like having my own e-mail and good control over it. With any of the free e-mail services hotlink, g-mail, or such I am always inundated with crap. Someone advise me as to how to have a good e-mail address at minimal cost that also minimizes hassles and spam.

         In the crackpot theory category, I read today of someone who believes that the historical nations of Israel and Judah were in Western Arabia rather than located where the Modern nation of Israel lies. I've never heard this theory before. Has anyone else heard this sort of thing? I didn't know there was any doubt on the subject.

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I still recommend gmail. It has better spam shielding than any other provider I've come across. It ends up in a spam folder you can glance at occasionally.

If you are able to send me a gmail invitation I'll try it. I'm louderback@louderbacks.com at the moment

I sent you an invitation, but it bounced: "mailbox full". I can send you another one when you give me a shout, or you could visit the invitation link at http://mail.google.com/mail/a-e4abfeca53-a4706fc61b-085d20c1ac but if someone else clicks it first, tht person will get the account. But I will know who it is!

I tried, but neither your invitation nor an earlier one worked for me. I was able to create a google account, but was not able to initialize gmail. I have entered a problem ticket.

Thank you very much. I'm sure it will be sorted out in due time.

I've been to Porlock!

How I got there was kind of like a scene out of the The Birds, and I found the weirdest restaurant ever there. The restaurant's theme was pigs, but really, they didn't serve any pork. It was a mostly seafood restaurant.

All in all, the food was very good, and well...it was a pretty weird time.

Chicken of the sea I've heard of... piggies of the sea? A pig-themed seafood emporium? Something is out of kilter in Porlock. :)

How delightful that you've been there! I still want to induce some visitor or resident to send me a postcard. Maybe I'll make the trip one day and have Shrimp Cocktail or some such beneath the piggies!

I actually found it on the net. It's called "Piggy in the Middle."

I mean EVERYWHERE piggies. EVERYWHERE. I remember the piggy salt and pepper shakers. It's scary, but the food is absolutely top notch, which was really surprising, seeing we were virtually out in the middle of nowhere, in a tiny village.

Really, the area is absolutely spectacular. Stunning. The beaches at Exmoor are covered with these large black palm sized rocks (yes, really, somewhat tretcherous). If you stand there, and listen to the surf going in and out, all the little rocks click. It's a symphony. I finally understood what the Celts refered to as "imbas" there.

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