Saturday 5th June 2010


amazing what one can find in the piles of stuff in one's basement. an old box has the potential to become a wayback machine.


Out in some field smelling vaguely old and of aspirin
and the evening’s warm indulgences you dissolve: turn
back seeing stars and recall to memory’s language the thin
outline of Oregon crabgrass toe-thick and the repated sidewalk pattern
of brick as your bare now-four-year feet thump/thud to the threshold of the rear door.

Hum now past the dizzying laundry machines
warming sweaters, underthings, and cats self-cleaned
by cinnamon Brillo tongues. Drift into the entryway, leaving
behind this polyester, these shoes (millipedes have fewer), this static cling
and move: scent-lines float you to chocolate chip cookies, blackberries, other cuisine.

Now full, amble down the green wallpaper hall through the linoleum maze
to the screen through which your treehouse whispers and become
its oak, its leaves, its roof, its looking glass; fear and breathe
as you never have. Feel the sun. You are the vector sum
and king of all that you behold. Watch the breeze—

come grow old now and here. Herodotus could not have said it better.
Construct the mental temporal bridge you cross and burn.
Cold: enter sweater. Pain: insert aspirin. Unfetter
chains of touch, sight, sound, unconcealed
and evolve. Dissolve back to your field.

posted by mAtt @ 23.37 (gmt+0000)
to /composition

Tuesday 18th January 2005

prove that I exist

neither can I.

since last we spoke (and it's been a while I'll admit): another migraine. TWELVE POINT FIVE GIGAHURTS. and an interesting after-effect: for a while, every time I a) stood up, b) stretched, c) held my breath (a nervous habit), or d) yawned, the blood was completely gravity'd from my head; to compensate for it, my heart loosened the pressure valve a bit and the sudden change was like BAM and I had to sit down lest I pass out.

also there's a bit about a failed lan party, and some x-treme snow tubing, and some cynical 'return of the king' watching, but all pales in comparison. oh yes, I also did some painful out-of-shape skiing. wrt skiing: was the fog getting worse, or was I?

the presidential inauguration will cost $40 million. for what? a microphone and a bible? come on, prez. spend the money on someone who is not you.

on the other hand: opinions are like the football game I taped and wanted to watch before learning the score somewhere else but then my friend called and was like 'omg lol!!! did u see teh game!!! a totaly blowout!!!!!1'

I'm addicted to making things pretty and logical, except in the rare sets of circumstances where it might actually matter to someone (let alone someone real (let alone me)). that said, I have to be honest: the kitchen is sparkling this morning and it's my fault. a person might think june cleaver herself had spent an afternoon here.

in the thread of my recent ruminations about the relationship between my matriculatorial status and the volume of words issuing forth from my upper brain: again I find myself missing school. the schedule and style fit me. I have never liked the idea of a real world, and now that I'm in it it's even worse. I have always known I'm easily disillusioned but I never realised just how easily.

when I die (assume with me for a minute that I'm mortal), here is what I want: I want everyone to show up and be absolutely quiet for ten minutes, then I want to be carried/wheeled/rolled in ten minutes late. if this happens the way I foresee, I will be one of the very very few people in the afterlife—or whatever else comes after life—who can honestly say s/he was late to her/his own funeral. in the end it all comes down to bragging rights, but that's just who I am.

bad:showering with a growing lack of sufficiently hot water.

bad:receiving an immediate and inevitable post-kiss reaction of 'YOU NEED TO SHAVE'

good:lather/hot water/razor shave (and missing the chin area completely).
bad:shaving around my adam's apple.

good:having a goatee.
bad:having to shave a goatee off at wife's longsuffering insistence.

bad:bad lists.

I spend too much time at a computer screen. how do I know this? yesterday I left work and the sun was setting, and I thought 'man, that's really high resolution.'


posted by antimAtt @ 11.05 (gmt+0000)
to /soapbox/unhappiness/visibleman

Monday 17th May 2004

P[this post is not lame] = 0

t minus two days. more precisely, t minus (one day and ten hours).

will I make it? internal oracle is conspicuously silent.

numbers will not stop running through my head. some people count sheep; I count probability and integrals and covariance. between the migraine and this apparent incapacity to mentally drop something, I'm convinced my brain has it out for me.

disturbing similarity:

the day after tomorrow (reality): I take a certain exam.
The Day After Tomorrow (the movie): the world ends.

this does not bode well.


[lstratum: bad sign]

this is not a good sign.

omens to date: n
ill omens to date: n
=> P[x is ill | x is an omen] = 1.

I hate probability, especially when it works against me.

posted by antimAtt @ 22.26 (gmt+0000)
to /geek/hatelife/silliness/unhappiness

Wednesday 12th May 2004

on counting

days remaining until future-determining test: 7

average #hours/day spent studying (over the last two weeks): 3

average #hours/day spent studying (over the last one week): 7

rate of change in anxiety level with respect to time: they don't make a number big enough.

I think einstein said that education is what remains after you've forgotten everything you've learned in school. if that's the case my education has been woefully inadequate. how do I know this? I have already forgotten everything I've learned in school, and what's left is nothing. rather, very very little. I know how to program a digital alarm clock and drive a manual transmission automobile and I know how to prepare a bowl of cold cereal. will these bits of data help me pass a certain forthcoming exam? the answer, sadly, is no.

if only it covered calculus, probability, AND bachelor food preparation, I'd at least get a 33.3_%. maybe even 40% depending on the breaks.

who wishes he had paid more attention in all the lower-division math classes he took so many years ago? the answer is me.

perhaps the source of all the anxiety is the fact that I've never really failed anything important. ever. not once. not even kind of. driver's license: first shot. shaving: zero scars and counting. relationships: 1 for 1 and looking better every day. walking: haven't fallen down in years and years.

what's the point of all this ridiculous introversion?

it is this. I won't die if I don't pass. the world will not screech to a halt. I'll go on, a bit wiser and sadder than before, but I'll be okay. I know this, but I don't feel this. recently it seems I can't get the hemispheres of my brain to communicate.

[shopping list addendum: corpus callosum expansion kit]

do I always need something to be down about? apparently.

posted by antimAtt @ 23.30 (gmt+0000)
to /hatelife/unhappiness

Saturday 8th May 2004

fifty ways to leave your professor

it's Saturday night. I should be enjoying time with friends, or at a geeky LAN party, or playing cards, or curled up with a good book or with the almost-wife.

instead, I'm busy to the point of being forced into homework. there's just no way around it. and believe me, I have looked for ways around it. long and hard and hard and long.

yes, I'm lame. you'd be right to call me this.

WAIT no you're wrong: it's school who is lame. come to think of it, why am I here? oh, that's right: so I can grow up to be a productive damned member of society. thanks for the white collar, boss. show me to my cell.

+God has been talking to me again. messing with my head.

many years ago, I could have made my living as a prophet. nowdays I'd have to start a cult and that would only end in tears. times change; it's sad.

wearing this shirt, I am undeniably the disco king.

posted by antimAtt @ 22.22 (gmt+0000)
to /hatelife/unhappiness

Tuesday 16th March 2004

this is my senioritis manifesting itself

if I gave the commencement address at my school this June, it would go something like this. Dan knows what I'm talking about.

Friends, family, parents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, great aunts, great uncles, grandparents, cousins, great aunts, great uncles, great grandparents, lost people, and distinguished members of the class of 2004:

Believe me when I tell you if you're not a pessimist already, then you should be.

I'll tell you what I mean.

How many of you have ever eaten chocolate chip cookies? Don't be shy.

Over 99% of people in the U.S. who have died from syphilis in the last fifty years were known to have eaten chocolate chip cookies on a regular basis. So you see my point.

The world you are now entering is not an intelligent world. Many believe it is not even a sane world. For example—in today's news, a person can read the following headlines: "Psychics predict world didn't end yesterday," "Study shows teen pregnancy drops off after age 25," "Something went wrong in jet crash, experts say," "Iraqi head seeks arms," "Man is fatally slain," and "Police begin campaign to run down jaywalkers."

The world you are now entering contains such features as Anna Nicole Smith, gangster rap, Survivor, George W. Bush and Al Gore, dancing babies, neo-hippies and their "save the snails" campaigns, ketchup that comes in green and purple, tabloids telling us the most irrelevant bits of trivia regarding Prince William's hair, eBay flooding and destroying the global market, Rush Limbaugh, Starbucks,, and (perhaps most inexplicably of all) France.

With all of this going on, the sad news is that the world you are now entering probably won't notice you at all. And it is for this and many other reasons that I would argue that the best years of your life are probably already behind you.

Sometime in the distant future, you'll think back to these precious days you spent in college. When that time comes, you'll smile, suffer through the awkward silence, laugh nervously, and change the subject.

But remember this: if I had only one thing to say to you today, I would already be done speaking.

And seriously. Lay off the cookies.

Thank you.

[uproarious applause]

posted by antimAtt @ 2.54 (gmt+0000)
to /composition/happiness/hatelife/silliness

Friday 16th January 2004

present THIS

DOCTOR PHILOSOPHY PROFESSOR thank you so much for adding the screeching tire sound effect to signify an advance in your powerpoint presentation it reminded me to be awake and to write things down from time to time and also thank you for saying "paradigm" eleven hundred times per minute I'm quite sure of its pronunciation now.

posted by antimAtt @ 12.58 (gmt+0000)
to /hatelife/humans/silliness/soapbox
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