Thursday, December 11, 2003
The words, the ideas, the next thing never came yesterday. I sat here for frelling hours, in my cold office, the cryosphere munching on my feet, licking at my legs and ass (mind out of gutter), straining various imaginative muscles to no avail. I read passages from Charles Fort's New Lands, because sometimes Fort gets me going again. I prowled the web like a hungry weasel and discovered the whole John Titor thing (why do I never learn about this stuff until afterwards?). I found an online anagram generator and discovered ITT OR hidden in "Titor." I checked my e-mail three dozen times. I finally got so desperate that I began reading other people's blogs, choosing at random from the "Fresh Blogs" list on the Blogger front page.
My gods, the dren people spout for all the world to see. I must have wasted an hour staring in wide-eyed, stupified, slack-jawed horror at the petty thoughts of bored housewives and the cryptofacist ramblings of right-wing no-brows. I confess, I had only the faintest suspicions of how most blogs are put to use. And now I have lost that innocence, too. Ah, well. In return, my teetering, uncertain superiority complex was bolstered a notch or two. Want to see the very worst that Homo sapies sapiens has to offer, but you're not in the mood for another rerun of Trading Spaces? Want to plumb the depths of human antipathy, but you don't get CNN? Well, friends, just browse the blogs a while. It's all there.
If that John Titor guy was for real, "humanity" has it coming.
Yeah, I know. I'm a bitter old whore. Get over it.
What happens next, what happens next, what happens next???
Anyway, finally I gave up and cooked dinner. UPS brought me a big box of Low Red Moon I should have received a month ago. Blah, blah, blah. About 12:30 a.m., Spooky and I finished playing Primal. The best video game I've ever played, and now we're jonsing for Ghosthunter. I watched about fifteen minutes of George Pal's The Time Machine and then wandered off to bed.
Yes, but what happens next?
Maybe tomorrow I'll talk about inaccessibility, but not today.
"Again this procession of the speechless/Bringing me their words/The future woke me with its stillness..."