020207 Hi. 020507 So I guess the moral of the story is, you can still have the same old problems—she’s bored, I’m restless—even if you do become a lithe, highly motivated, sharp-featured, lean, muscular goddess of absolute discipline, beloved alike by pre-pubescents, adolescents, and hypermanly, international oil barons with rock-hard libidos and plenty of common sense. 020907 The main pwobwem with laptops today, for my purposes, is not speed, features, weight, or any of the super-cool media-creation bullshit they’re trying to make us think we can’t live without. What they’re all missing is low power consumption, true daylight readability, and overall durability. That’s why I really wish I could get one of those OLPC’s from laptop.org. Maybe after all the poor kids around the world get one, then I can too. Well, this is it, babies. The prime of my middle age. Time to take a good look around. 02--07 It could all end tomorrow. Tonight, even. In our pajamas. We’re not ready. The dolphins are smiling up out of the bathtub, oblivious. Sakharov. 02--07 I think it’s about time I gave up “literature,” and went back to my fantastic roots. Thanks Bisson. Thanks, bro. An awesome detail from Talking Man: they never run out of gas, but they keep stopping at (dangerous) gas stations because they don’t realize they’re not going to run out of gas! 022707 All I wanted to do was make this pigeon: The way that lovely young lady smiled as she walked past my open perfect apartment’s window’s tack-tack-typewriter sound, on the corner across from the West Bank Cafe, with the underwater-colored sunlight slanting down upon us all, in the days before everything got complicated. And I lay there undulating in bed (again), realizing the whole messed up system of computers and applications and desks and hours and days and lives had become too complicated (again) for me even to have a non-thinking way to just DO that, and I realized it was time to get out a new blank spiral notebook. Of a sort. And that’s how npydyuan (aka teh-dsa, and blah blah blah) regenerates itself. Through the constant, eroding force of general 21st-century irritation.