It's, uh, White Cheese. 16 November 1998

I keep looking over at this paper bag on my desk, because from time to time it starts shaking, wobbling back and forth. Remember the glass of water in Jurassic Park? Remember Loma Prieta? If you grow up here you have a sensitivity for vibrational songbirds, like things hanging from the ceiling, or mostly-empty, oddly-balanced paper bags. The things that hang from the ceiling are best. When a ceiling lamp starts rockin, you know who's come knockin. Paper bags, I don't think I trust as much.

P.S.: I finally got tired of it and smashed it down so it wouldn't move anymore. (You did know this is a real time journal, right? Seems real to me, anyway. I could be wrong. I'm told it happens.)

Wow. Three different Archipelago sites went off the air this weekend. I can understand abandoning a journal, but this pulling down of the whole site... gosh. People are so volatile. No wonder they scare me.

I was trying to explain this to someone last night, about why I felt a bit uncomfortable in the crowd at the Sick & Twisted Animation Festival. (Which was 60% dumb, 20% pathetic, and 20% pretty-good, most of the pretty-good category consisting of the same cartoons that were good last year. Your Host says, Save Your Money.)

"I don't know, it's just that there were so many of them all in the one place... They were just scary."

"So what was so scary about them?"

"They were all so clean and cheerful, for one thing."

"Oh well of course, that would frighten anyone."

Everyone's an ironist these days.

More Unnecessary Metaphors: My computer is being backed up against my will right now, and I'm having to fight for every bit of the hard drive's attention. Grrr.

A slight problem with a widely dispersed stereo setup like we have here at work: Sometimes, if the piece is quiet and the instruments very separate, it's hard to tell whether that sound is coming from the recording or someone you can't see downstairs or in the next quadrant. Especially if it's a tambourine. I would never feel comfortable here again if I knew that there was someone in my vicinity who might break out into tambourine playing at any minute. Next thing you know, it'd be Morris dancing. Shudder.

Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.

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