100204 This was a mistake. Coming here. Being talked to, or at, by a sniper-rifle-toting ghost-god who hovers over everybody and picks ’em off one at a time, or a whole bunch at a time: head shot! gut shot! crotch shot! Crotch shots are hard, but they’re easy to do. You just crouch down, come up on the person, and aim up at their crotch. Crazy, crazy shit, man. Okay. Shut up. Go away. I have important work to do. Okay, not really. But I’m sick of your lazy eye and your running monologue. So I “have to go back to work,” okay? This world and the next are littered with dead geniuses. Be glad you’re not one of them. This week in Low End Mat history: > 2 October 1994. A brand new journal for a brand new home. > September 29, 1996 a female voice said “midnight;” ... sometimes you hafta just throw away your list of things to do, without reading it, and start a fresh one. > October 1, 1997 I’m cooking spaghetti and feeling so free about it I’m actually putting olive oil and a dash of salt in the pot— > October 20, 1999 It’s not that I want to scream and can’t. It’s that I don’t want to scream and want to want to. > September 28, 2000 the danger of getting in a groove is people (incl you) will think you should stay there. > 5 Oct 2001 Much has been made of the cup. As well it should be. > 100202 “I stink!” > 2 October 2003 I need a sort of Norton Utilities for the psyche. They have that, you know. After I was dead, I said of my files (my philes!), “The dreams are moderately interesting because they show what was going on, although they’re poignant because they show how much I had that I failed to work with. The rest is pretty much crap, noise.” We get mad at mosquitos and ticks, but finally, if we give the matter any reflection at all, we have to accept that they are as essential (and beautiful!) as we, in the bigger picture. Should bugs in software be likewise embraced? 100704 The first (post-pubescent) time I was “in love,” I knew I was in love. Subsequent times, I have only known retrospectively. And yes, love is pretty much the same as lust, I don’t care what anyone says. 100804 Internet will survive as a genuine organism only if it remains essentially anarchic. Internet’s greatest current competition is Government. Despite having helped create Internet, Government now fears Internet. The two are antipodes in the classic comic-book speculation: If Superhero A fought Superhero B, whose ass would get kicked? But the question is no longer merely rhetorical. 101204 The lone voice is back. It speaks infrequently compared to the others, but when it speaks, I have to listen. It echoes an emptiness no amount of savory contentment can dispel. It proposes the absurd. I have always loved the absurd. To continue to deny it makes me want to smoke. Your naive, essential honesty overpowers your reluctance to reveal. It finds ways to circumvent your self-conscious obedience to irony. 101404 What exactly am I doing when I am so-called “on” the Internet? It’s not exactly reading, usually, is it? It’s more like listening to noise. SETI at home, for sure. 101904 Other people’s names given in place of one’s own permissions repair: Permission not to publish: Cavafy, Kafka Permission not to stretch: Moraes 102304 With rug-burned knees, looking up at Cholula’s accidentally beatific face as I sucked helplessly on her great milky tit, I felt truly the comfort of the willing slave. I grow hard again today as I reflect on the loving spanking she gave me. I don’t care how ridiculous it sounds out of context; it was true and good. Whatever else I may say about her, I trust her with my sweet ass. Don’t think I’ll be trying Livitra again any time soon, though. I think it’s an erection-fucker-with, but not really an aphrodisiac nor an euphoric. I enjoyed the initial disorienting flush, but after that it was mostly discomforting. 102804 Last night during our post-Angola hug, Sapo said to me, “Awesome!” If that’s not nice, what is?