ㅁ I awoke to the sound of the rain. Here in my treehouse, it is loud. Sometimes it sounds like voices: murmurations of ghosts, desultory sounds, gravity's words, the gods melt, climb down, cry.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: Links #46
Here are some links I found interesting- without comment.
An illustration from the internet.
A found poem.
“You take a look at bacon and some of these products and some people don’t eat bacon anymore and we are going to get the energy prices down when we get energy down you know this was caused by their horrible energy WIND! they want WIND! all over the place but when it doesn’t blow we have a little problem” – Donald Trump
Caveat: Poem #2948 “The way through”
ㅁ the next wor(l)d exists after the previous wor(l)d in liminal space
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Fish after 3 days
There’s always going to be a trade-off. There can be a houseguest who thinks they are being helpful, but in fact they make more work for you. They cook a delicious meal for you, but leave little messes everywhere and never turn off any lights and even forget to turn off the oven, and leave swathes of chaos in the fridge. There are constant decisions that have to be made, when your houseguest has different standards of neatness and cleanliness than you do. Should you go around cleaning up after them, and resent it? Or should you just live with that different standard of neatness and cleanliness for a while, and resent that, instead? Inevitably, it’s some combination of those two, and a constant effort to avoid building up resentment.
Venting online into the void is super helpful, of course.
Caveat: Links #45
Here are some links I found interesting- without comment.
An illustration from the internet.
A quote.
“When people say to me ‘I’ve had enough of your nonsense’ I give them a little more of my nonsense, in case they were just being polite.” – UnFitz2, an internet denizen.
Caveat: Poem #2947 “Weird person”
ㅁ My numerous eccentricities - this weird self-hosted blog thingy, the cartographic hobbies, sleeping on the hard floor... This pile of habits make me wonder: perhaps I'm just a crank.
– a nonnet.
Caveat: The true secret to privacy online
I sometimes realize that I can exploit the fact that my blog has so few regular readers to passive-aggressively rant about the world around me, up to and including my own family and neighbors (most of whom can’t be bothered to realize that the internet is bigger than facebook). I can be “open” and eerily transparent without actually having any reputational skin in the social-media game.
The fact that this blog is nominally public just lends certain frisson, a sensation of “living dangerously,” to the whole enterprise.
None of this is new to me, of course. I’ve gone off in this direction before, but then I go through other phases where I feel more cautious, and practice some self-restraint for a few years.
Anyway, I’m feeling inclined to experiment with allowing myself to be more open about my politics and general ideological eccentricities than I have been over the last few years. It’s not like I’m going to be running for political office or something, where having my beliefs and feelings out there in the public record actually matters.
And to the extent that the major social media and web search empires are so thoroughly “enshittifying” (as the contemporary parlance puts it), my blog’s “discoverability” isn’t what it used to be, five or ten years ago, either. When I was living in Korea, it wasn’t uncommon for strangers to find my blog and engage with it, with substantive comments on posts and such. That kind of thing never happens anymore – the search engines simply don’t see my blog, and don’t offer links to it.
It’s interesting. People are so worried about privacy online, but perhaps the best way to be private online is to self-host your own completely public blog, and refuse to play the SEO game – no one will see it, I can almost guarantee!
At the rate things are going, this blog is really not much more public than my going around and putting up ranty post-its on random trees in my rural Alaskan neighborhood. Which, come to think of it, might be an amusing thing to do.
Shouting into the abyss has never been easier.
Caveat: Links #44
Here are some links I found interesting- without comment.
- A new way to detect advanced aliens – gravity waves
- Modern Marxist philosophers ain’t what they used to be
An illustration from the internet.
A quote.
“The job of the press after all is to guard democracy, not profit from its destruction.” – Justin Rosario
Caveat: Poem #2946 “The war was lost”
ㅁ the raindrops commenced a war on the earth and trees which was quickly lost
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Here, listen to this!
<rant>
I believe, with all my soul, that it is rude to subject other people to your private audio stream – whether music, news, stories (audiobooks), telephone conversations, or anything else. Now that we all have excellent speakers in our hands, it’s easier than ever to do. Though in fact, I think it’s always been an issue, even back in pre-technological eras when people would have loud, annoying conversations or play music around other people who had no interest in hearing it.
So this rant isn’t about “the kids these days” or some decay in social standards. Indeed, if anything, I feel the elderly are the most typical demographic to perpetrate this type of rudeness – I would link it to the seemingly inevitable narcissim of old age (and as an aside, is this really inevitable? my narcissism is bad enough… I hate to imagine what a horrible old person I’ll be…).
I suspect there have always been rude people. I’m just making the observation that these rude people do this thing that annoys me.
</rant>
Caveat: Links #43
Here are some links I found interesting- without comment.
- The ongoing battle to repeal ranked choice voting in Alaska
- Despite all my reading in philosophy, this was new to me
An illustration from the internet.
A quote.
“I have never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude.” – Henry David Thoreau
Caveat: Poem #2945 “Some fish”
ㅁ blub! the fish swam along plunged up and out and back down with a splash tasting the rain.
– a tetractys.
Caveat: Agonized abrogation
I had a horrible day.
Probably partly it was the result of not really feeling like I got any rest or “alone time” over the weekend, what with having a guest here and various stressful small “crises,” like the failed kitchen sink drain and the mold-infested barbecue. I have no moment of refuge, no place of retreat.
So I started the day stressed and annoyed, and it just got worse. Before I bought the store, working at the store was a sort of refuge – because mostly I could just concentrate on my specific responsibilities, and the “big picture” was up to someone else – the store’s owners. Now that I’m the store’s owner, all the really big problems rise up to me, and I have to deal with them. There’s no sense of refuge in the store. I face bills, annoying or dissatisfied customers, the competing preferences and requests of employees… it’s all on me to sort out, and delay doesn’t solve anything, so each of these demands my attention NOW.
But actually still, I wasn’t truly miserable till I got home. I guess I’m just burned out on cleaning up after other people. It’s true that Wayne had prepared dinner, which was nice. But I spent the hour and a half after dinner cleaning up: cleaning dishes, cleaning Wayne’s mess in the boat (which returned to our dock yesterday), dealing with a water shortage in our cistern (caused by someone leaving the hose at the dock on for a day straight). It just never stops. And no sense of personal space or refuge to retreat to for bed, since I yielded my bedroom to our guest.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was when I went down to look at the boat, and found some fish guts and bait in loose, non-waterproof bags in the transom storage area. It was stinky already, the boat having been in the sun all day. I came up to let Wayne know that this mess was there, and his response was: “You can throw it in the water.” Implicit in this was that he just assumed I was happy to clean up after him and Jeff. Now to be clear, I’m not really into fishing even under the best of conditions, but if there’s one aspect of fishing I like least, it’s dealing with fish guts. And here he just assumed I’d be happy to deal with it. So… I dealt with it. But I was quite angry. I even let him know – though I suspect he unable to understand why I was angry. But it made me feel like some kind of servant, rather than someone hosting a friend at my home.
In the end I was so grumpy I just ran away and have gone to bed my treehouse. I’m tired of responsibility. A lot.
It’s kind of primitive out here, and a bit chilly, but at least I have some solitude.
Caveat: Links #42
Here are some links I found interesting- without comment.
- “Why has so much political thought turned from mulling over facts to mulling over values”
- Krodha
- Language change in Antarctica
An illustration from the internet.
A quote.
“Why doesn’t Sisyphus just stop? Is he stupid?” – the internet
Caveat: Poem #2944 “Yes sergeant”
ㅁ having been in the army; times like these: discipline, freeze, just agree, exhaustion seethes in me
– an englyn penfyr.
Caveat: Life as it is
I’m really struggling lately. We have a visitor up – Art’s old friend Wayne – from Vancouver Island. He’s a dynamic and interesting person to have around, but it ends up just feeling like more pressure to get more things done that I just don’t have the energy for.
And I feel like small things keep going wrong, and maybe each in itself is not such a big thing, but collectively they’re digging in around the edges and my quality of life feels really overwhelmingly bad lately.
The drain in the kitchen downstairs broke yesterday. I had a flood in the kitchen which was a pain to clean up, and since the hardware store is closed Sunday and Monday, I can’t even shop for replacement pieces until Tuesday morning. Meanwhile, we are carrying dishes upstairs to wash them.
Today, Wayne wanted to try smoking some salmon. I admit I probably planted the idea in his mind – but I regret it. It’s turned into an ordeal, as Art’s Traeger smoker/cooker thing turned out be in a state of barely-functional deshabille – it was filthy, full of ash and crap, and it had mold growing in it. Art’s always been the “sole person in charge” of the Traeger grill – so I’m only guilty of neglecting something that wasn’t important to me and that I just had sort of drifted to assuming we weren’t using anymore – like so many things. But anyway, I spent most of the day dinking around with it, running it “hot” to cook out the junk and mold and then repeatedly scrubbing it with a wire brush.
I’m still not wholly comfortable with the thermostat control – it feels like it’s not behaving the way I would hope, as far as running in “smoker” mode. It seems to like to suddenly “take off” and suddenly the temperature zooms up to 400-500 degrees, before it “calms down” and settles at the appropriate temperature for smoking (around 160-180).
Caveat: Links #41
Here are some links I found interesting- without comment.
An illustration from the internet.
A quote.
“Nothing but despair can save us.” – Adorno
Caveat: Poem #2943 “The small lamp on the table”
ㅁ With August not yet over, now, a fall-like day arrives, as rain. The light has changed. I'm not sure how. With August not yet over, now, it's like a pause in time. The tao of things; the seasons shifting, vain. With August not yet over, now, a fall-like day arrives, as rain.
– a triolet.
Caveat: Links #40
Here are some links I found interesting- without comment.
An illustration from the internet.
A quote.
“1975: The year I was born. I started hating myself soon after. None of my decisions were good.” – Jason Pargin
Caveat: Poem #2942 “Saṃsāra”
ㅁ Forest demons watch time's debilitating wheel and they gloat, with joy.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Links #39
Here are some links I found interesting- without comment.
- District 2 precinct breakdown of voting for Alaska’s 2024 primary
- Food made from waste fabric (really)
An illustration from the internet.
A quote.
“A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to forget.” – the internet
Caveat: Poem #2941 “Getting there”
ㅁ A slug was westbound near the water cistern's base. A mindful commute.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Links #38
Here are some links I found interesting- without comment.
An illustration from the internet.
A quote.
“I don’t understand the Sunk Cost Fallacy but I have already spent so much time on trying to learn it, it makes no sense to give up now.” – the internet
Caveat: Poem #2940 “Indeterminacy”
ㅁ short's better... fewer words... well, maybe more: you got things to say... so just make sentences, or run-on masses of text, sesquipedalian rhythms, even wax poetic if you can.
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Links #37
Here are some links I found interesting- without comment.
An illustration from the internet.
A quote.
“My employer added a clause in my last NDA [non-disclosure agreement] stating that I was prohibited from saying anything ‘disparaging’ about the company. Now when anyone asks about job postings I tell them, ‘I’m contractually obligated not to say anything disparaging about them.’ None have ever applied.” – someone on the internet
Caveat: Poem #2939 “Cope”
ㅁ overwhelmed, day to day... zoom in on particulars, and just try to cope
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: 초콜릿 맛 똥
Lately, one of the least enjoyable aspects of caretaking for my uncle Arthur, in his senescence, has been that he seems to struggle with wiping his ass. So far I haven’t had to actually do it for him – he’s too proud to ask for help and too forgetful to mention it as an issue except in the moment.
I’m kept aware of it largely because I frequently find shit smeared all over the toilet seat.
I suspect the issue is twofold: 1) a lack of upper body flexibility, related to the severe arthritis in his shoulders, preventing him from reliably reaching the area in question, and 2) an extreme lack of situational awareness, an ongoing issue ever since his stroke in 2018.
Anyway, I deal with by carefully inspecting the toilet seat on a regular basis, and keeping a sprayer of cleaner near the toilet to clean it off when necessary. I have long ago discovered that trying to confront him about it or to “retrain” him on the issue is counterproductive, so I’m sure if I mentioned to him that this issue is ongoing and impacts my quality of life, he’d spiral off in a posture of defensive denial. Once on a related issue of pissing on the floor in the bathroom, his response was: “How do you know you didn’t do it?” Better to just keep quiet and forebear on these questions.
On the more positive side, I will report, for the record, that apparently, Arthur eats so much chocolate that his shit often smells like chocolate.
Caveat: Links #36
Here are some links I found interesting- without comment.
An illustration from the internet.
A quote.
“Things just keep happening, one after another, or sometimes vice-versa.” – Rusty Foster
Caveat: Poem #2938 “Entreaty”
ㅁ "Rain!" "Soon, now." "We need it." "The gods know this." The man lowered supplicant hands, resigned.
– a tetractys.
Caveat: Links #35
Here are some links I found interesting- without comment.
An illustration from the internet.
A quote.
“We don’t need to imagine a Butlerian Jihad against AI, just the same death by a thousand cuts that has strangled nuclear power for the last eight decades.” – Bryan Caplan
Caveat: Poem #2937 “The map was my loyal companion”
ㅁ The map has abandoned me. Or maybe, alternately, set me free, but it leaves me so lonely.
– an englyn penfyr.
Caveat: Links #34
Here are some links I found interesting- without comment.
An illustration from the internet.
A quote.
¹And Moses said, “Thus sayeth the Lord: ²You shall not oppress the stranger, for you were strangers once yourself in Egypt.” ³And the people grew angry, and said ⁴”O Lord! Why are You teaching us critical race theory?”
Caveat: Poem #2936 “The self-made man”
ㅁ No time like now for dull despair, for setting up bland rationales. We architect our disrepair. No time like now for dull despair. Our moodiness disturbs the air, our monologues destroy morale. No time like now for dull despair, for setting up bland rationales.
– a triolet.