050004 #human Is it possible to escape the tyranny of heirarchy? Is it desirable? Why am I so god-damned stuck? Why isn't the Internet working? Why isn't the United States of America working? Why haven't I had a really good system since the index cards? Except for the original incarnation of teh-dsa, I mean. And that one remains questionable. Do I just need to leave the god-damned computer at home? What the fuck am I going to do with myself then? Why did that frumpy art-bartender ladygirl give me such a large glass of whiskey? What is Capoeira? Do I really suck as bad as I feel I do right now? Where is Walt Whitman? What happened to all the trains? What's going to happen to all us pudgy peasants? Is there such a thing as a moral compass, and can it be trusted? Does anyone really know how to read it? And most importantly, why did I dream this last night: 000003 #gull OH MY GOD, THESE are MAGIC CARDS!!! If my wife knew I had these, she'd throw a shit fit. Ever since she found my old ones and rendered them... useless, I've been sort of striking out, cruising for a new deck and never finding one. I found one in the last place I had expected to look. My old filing cabinet. The ugly tan one, bottom drawer, wedged in downhill. A very thick book with many small pages. Outmoded, too-specific, semi-portable, vaguely embarassing, fuel-efficient, kind of glowing, kind of weird wood-and-pulp computer of some kind. There's no on/off switch. Parts are easily lost, found. You can peek and poke at will. Some of the moments make no sense, some make so much sense you wonder what you're doing.