Old New Toy
3 January 2001
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Old New Toy
3 January 2001
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1:39 PM:
Neat! I just remembered I have a webcam. Live me, a scary idea. Plus I'd have to shave and stuff before I sat down here, that's no fun.
Wow our stock is soaring! I think it might be all the way up to half the option price now. Whoo hoo. I'm less poor. Speaking of which, I tried calling the bank Today to see if I could find out what happened to the IRA I opened back in 1994. See, they sold it to another bank, and then the bank I opened it with got bought by the current megacorp (who has since been bought itself, and so on). Not too encouraging. You might think that I would have kept track of something like that, perhaps even have paper records detailing where it went and when. But that would only show that you don't know me. Details, not so good me.
Every clock in this room is showing a different time. So see, it's not just me.
8:01 PM: Can't .... stay ..... awake .... if only ... could reach .... utility belt...........THUD
9:46 PM: Hey, so when was all that New Age stuff really big? That was the 80s, wasn't it? More than the 70s, really. It kind of grew out of the 70s, but 70s people were hippies, which isn't quite the same thing. New Age is all about Quantum Prostates and homeoaromeowhereforearthourapy and that crap. Systematized pseudointellectual pseudoscientific hokum. And, of course, hand in hand with the other main force of the 80s, overconsuming greedy yuppies high on defense spending cocaine and Ronald Reagan's hair gel.
God, no wonder I despise most people my age. They're still like that. They froze. Maybe I froze too, but I froze into "I can't believe what a bunch of pathetic wankers all these people are." That's a sentiment you can apply in so many different ways. It was science fiction that saved my soul, of course, the stuff that eventually became cyberpunk. God Bless their pointy little heads.
Too, though, I owe pretty much everything about my current life to SF Net and the kindness of strangers. Specifically in giving me drugs. That helped a lot. Thanks Lana! Sorry about the party. Just call me Doctor Pooper.
Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.
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All names are fake, most places are real, the
author is definitely
unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep.
© 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff. The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne. | ||||
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