Writers, here’s an opportunity to change the world: https://medium.com/economicsecproj/into-the-black-a-short-fiction-contest-with-a-big-prize-f91cd6553967
Tag Archives: creativity
Sunday evening meditation midst the swirls and curls of burning fags, bearded men smoking ciggies, checking mobiles for messages ’bout their social standing, drinking booze with babes, the air electrified with lightning nearby.
What day this has been, my friends, when you’re awarded for your hard work, and I am handed the reins of a quiet life with which I choose to treat my friends and family to the wellspring of love within I’ve hidden for too long?!
Why hide that treasure trove from You?
Why deny one’s gift, one’s destiny?
Nothing left to fear.
Life is short.
Although but sets of states of energy in motion, how those states interact say everything these words merely skim the surface describing!
To say I love you has never been enough.
To show I love you by giving my love to everyone we know and to those we’ll never meet…well, the pipe smoker next to me, a wise old blues musician, understands.
You and I are performers, to the core.
Our performance is an act of love, unselfish, in service to others, sometimes sacrificing our mental (thus, our phyical) health until we paid attention, putting our love for each other to practical use.
Look at the result!
Years hiding love we cannot recover.
Let’s wisely share our remaining years with unfettered love.
The solar system brought us this far.
Please ensure your scanned documents are streak-free and legible
In the backyard of our forested suburban lot, large rocks, boulders and outcroppings form shelves or layers of frozen time.
On one of those rocks, I slowly build an enclave, a getaway-from-it-all, a meditation garden, complete with writer’s cottage, treehouse and platform/deck for outdoor entertainment such as watching nature and dancing.
I have a public persona but I also value my privacy.
I consider myself a monk who practices the art of living in the midst of the joys and sorrows of modern society, despite his wishes to live alone on a mountaintop, knowing that his extroverted self provides more entertainment, insight and guidance to his species than his seclusion.
I debate extending permanent water pipes out to the cottage since the cottage, with a modular design, includes a conservatory in which plants will grow.
I definitely will extend permanent electrical power to the cottage, an extension cord currently serving temporary duty, powering rope lights in the treehouse.
This weekend I plan to complete clearing the forest floor and installing foundation footings and/or concrete piers for the first three modular units of the enclave — the conservatory (a greenhouse kit from Harbor Freight), writer’s cottage and workshop, the latter two using shed kits called “Stratford” from Heartlandind.com, linked in an L shape.
The conservatory will have a drain hole in it to let water drain off of the waterproofed floor.
All three units will need reinforcement like screws instead of nails, more studs and more floor joists, the conservatory raised a foot higher via 2×12 foundation lumber pieces.
The deck will tie the enclave to the treehouse via a stairway to the treehouse that connects to the deck.
Current plans for now, as budget and new ideas allow!
When human-programmed digital machines cooperate with human analog machines
Back in the workshop
Well, it’s that time of year when I put my inability to properly assess and address personal relationship issues on hold (aware that I am just a kid in an adult body) and work on my workshop design, something I can hold in my hands and not get emotionally confused about.
I love being a lazy nerd!
The cat’s out of the bag, and no, it’s not Schrödinger’s cat.
My team has elected the next project leader for the next project, an autonomous greenhouse, which is basically a building-sized robot that feeds itself and grows/harvests food for humans.
Interestingly enough, but not surprisingly so, they chose a project management algorithm to lead the project, giving over all decision making and late night number crunching to a software team member who/which won’t need weekly meetings or summary reports to get its point across when fingers are pointed toward the causes of failures in achieving project goals.
The algorithm already mines Bitcoins to generate revenue for the project so cost has all but been eliminated from concerns on this project.
Practically eliminating humans from the design and construction phase reduces labour costs; so, too, during operation and maintenance.
The algorithm has a flexible set of milestones to complete the design and construction, this being a new project for all involved.
I trust my team.
However, I’m building my own scale version of this to compare one human’s design to that of an algorithm.
In my case, cost is of paramount importance, labour cost is primarily my free time and schedule is within a few weeks/months depending on weather conditions and my free time.
Wish me luck!
“Certain subjects begin to repeat themselves: dogs chase the Google Street View car in Peru and Russia, while a dog in Chile just stares as the car goes by; workers by the side of the road wear bright orange uniforms in one country, bright orange ones in another.” [ from the New Yorker, An Agoraphobic Photographer’s Virtual Travels, on Google Street View, by Andrea Denhoed]
What is peace?
Once again, I have made peace with the world.
What is peace?
Peace, of course, is a concept, a label, a symbol, all of that.
I do not exist, therefore a nonexistent entity making something called “peace” is all imaginary.
The world is easy enough to grasp as both an entity and a concept.
At a multicellular level, I am not at peace, my body always fighting entropy, battling bacteria and viruses floating around in my system, breathed in and pooped out on a regular basis.
So what, then, is peace?
It means I have let go of the parts of me that in my youth wanted to explore the universe off of this planet.
I am no longer 5, 15, 25, 35 or even 50.
To be sure, age is just a number and more than one person my age or older has traveled to the International Space Station orbiting Earth but I am not them.
I am me.
It is in my personal best interest, healthwise, to fold up the circus tent under which I was entertaining people around me and return to the meditation platform in the woods where I can rest during the day whilst quietly spending half of the night shift working alone preparing blood product inventory for delivery to hospitals.
I am contented, not necessarily happy, but able to enjoy myself and no longer fill my thoughts with the lives of others who, although they gave me a level of exuberant happiness, also left me feeling old, unable to keep up with their busy lives, as busy as I was when I was their age 25-30 years ago.
I unattach myself from the surface of others whose lives I mimicked as a chameleon.
I am happiest here, writing, wherever my butt is seated and my hands have a keyboard or pen and paper on which I compose these ditties.
Peace is simplicity and frugality.
Peace is my thought set devoid of a running commentary justifying its existence, shouting for attention, and seeking quick thrills.
I was a teenage script kiddie.
Go ahead, laugh at me, I can take it.
Motivated by love for a friend of mine, a future computer engineering genius, I emulated his coding skills, mimicked his sense of humour in programming comments, hoping he’d approve of my own cleverness.
He never did, ridiculing my lack of originality, accusing me of merely being an engineer whilst he was the true scientist exploring uncharted territory through scientific experimentation.
He saw me as his assistant, the comic sidekick who was good-looking, able to score funding from parents and friends via my charm and personality.
In other words, he couldn’t live without me for a couple of years.
He wouldn’t admit he loved me, too.
Fraternal love, is it different than romantic love?
Do plant roots love rain? Can they distinguish water falling from the sky, which has collected minerals in the air in its gravitational journey toward the center of our planet, from river water? Do they understand concepts of inflow and infiltration?
Every time I work on electronic equipment, in the back of my thoughts I think of Joey and the joy we shared building our first CPU-based systems, having “graduated” from single transistor and R/C/D (resistor/capacitor/diode) based systems.
I say I build these systems now for Guin and Shelmi.
And I do.
But I also honour older relationships.
It is who I am, connected to sets of states of energy which no longer exist, knowing as we do that friends we had 40 years ago are not the same persons whose names they keep perpetuating.
The electronic dance partner taking shape in my laboratory will remain essentially the same throughout its period of utility.
Do we see what that means in how we define living systems?
Rate of change.
Sets and subsets.
Summer solstice — would entities on other planetary systems understand that phrase?
As an inventor, I risk giving/selling my inventions to those who find unintended uses for my creative work.
Take, for instance, my machine for prechewing gum, softening squares into delicious gooey masses, retaining and releasing flavour for immediate enjoyment.
An undisclosed government bought that invention and bombarded rebel insurgents with masses of sticky substances, rendering the rebels and their weapons/transportation useless.
Or my latest invention, the shower that takes a 3D scan of your body and soaps/washes every part of your body precisely.
An Internet startup bought that invention and intends to blend it into their new clothes washer/dryer system whivh promises to revolutionise the home clothes cleaning industry.