Flash : Blog
I’m learning Flash at work. It’s different. There are things inside of things and each thing has its own timeline. So it’s like coding/scripting but with moving targets. 4D programming. Even though it confuses and frustrates me at times, it’s so sweet to see my little pie-in-the-sky design coming to life. Go, me!
Of course, now I’m kind of stuck but hey. Stuck is what you are before you figure it out.
BOOKS: WALTER MOSLEY
I’ve got issues with infidelity, for one. Innocence lost. Mosley’s recent books leave me with that same profound aftertaste of loss and trauma as Octavia Butler’s books do. Rest in peace, Octavia.
So … um. Hey. What’s up. Some weather we’re having, huh. Can you believe that August is almost over? Where does the time go? Why, yes, I do support our local sports franchise.
A TOPIC PULLED OUT OF THIN AIR
There are some people who make light of common folk who blog. You know, like, who gives a flying crap what Joe Schmoe has to say? (I feel that way about call-in radio shows. Blech.) Who wants to read exhibitionist drivel written by some egotistical schmuck on the internet? There was a dude on the Colbert Report the other night saying that the internet is ruining our culture and that opinions and exposition should be left to the professionals.
Blogs are public journals — public diaries, right. Sharing your life, no matter how trite or meaningful it may or may not be, is a great thing. Our stories are all that we have. Our memories and experiences are the essence of our selves. They are our stories, most of which are untold. Observation and imagination enhance our collective condition.
Why should creating something be left to professionals? It’s like saying that dancing in public should be left up to professionals. Leave it up to the pros. You’re ruining the institution of dance with your common, uncultured sense of rhythm and time. Bull.
Now. There’s a lot of bad stuff out there. Bad in quality and bad in character. There’s stuff out there that I wish wasn’t out there. And yet it is. What I like most, though, what makes it all worthwhile is when I find someone whose thoughts are like a … like a … it’s like reading a good book. You’re drawn into their world.
It’s the same way with books. Reading books and blogs and such are ways to extend your life and mind and experience beyond what’s inside your own head. If you read a lot of books, it’s like you’re living multiple lives in multiple worlds. The passing on of memory, thought, and experience from mind to mind, generation to generation. Truly amazing.
There are those people whose writing reminds me of what I love about them. Some have thoughts that feel like comfortable, cozy cafes with plush lounging. Some are like museums. Some like a college campus. Some like being under a cozy comforter on a chilly morning. Some like a back alley or red light district. And some are like an altered consciousness mind trip.
You know what I mean? Like reading a Calvin and Hobbes book. Or watching Mystery Science Theater 3000. The X-Files back in the day. This American Life.
I would pay good money to read Jeff’s dreams again.
Anything Sadie writes causes a massive surge of dopamine release. Saaaadie! Don’t you know I love you, sweet Saaaaadie! She’s a genius.
I never know what Chris is going to come up with but he’ll always make you laugh, think or scratch your head a la “WTF”. Usually all of the above.
Every time Amador writes about what she’s up to it makes me want to pick up an instrument and play my heart out until my fingers bleed. I literally wake up the next day humming a new tune that I’ve written, apparently, in my sleep or somewhere in the mist between dreaming and waking.
I could go on with the rest of you whose blogs I read but it’s way past my bed time. Tomorrow I’ll be wondering why I’m so tired.
I invite and challenge all of you blog readers and writers to read and write ’em. What you have to say matters. Not in the sense that it’s guaranteed to change the world or that it will change someone else. But you know how it goes. One of those Newton’s Law things. Or Heisenberg things.
We can all chronicle our infinitessimal little lives and contribute to the whole that is greater than the individual parts. This may be the closest we get to storing our consciousness in digital format. File extension: hsn or hmn