Anno 2003 read ( words) 4/07/03 The Family Pictures section is now 15 pages, the first 3 of which have thumbnails so far. The images on the site are proving to be the most difficult as a result of the server bandwidth limits as well as space. I will be slowly removing unneeded and older content to free space for the more popular areas. The [Link removed.] Supertwo project also has some new pictures of recent work and a short description of my plans. There will be some changes to the ad content within these pages which may or may not prove to be favorable to all concerned. The community service ads will remain, however. The preview of a second concept caused no more than confusion and questions, and as a result will be kept out of the light in the short term. If anyone would like an explanation of the upcoming format change please let me know. 4/09/03 The countdown to Superheat has begun. Information on location and the first code will be released 4/25/03. The announcement image below will then link to a timelog with news and relevant documentation. 4/12/03 The FAQ is up and running. The page looks pretty nice, if I do say so myself. If anyone has further inquiries, just ask, and I'll add them to the page. The help section will be up next. The palette for the timelog is available for viewing and will have content on the 25th. 4/15/03 The index is now valid HTML 4.01, as well as Valid CSS. After many hours of debugging and research, the markup has been ironed out to a tee. Now, on to the rest of the site! The update archive will return soon as it is undergoing a change to follow the darker theme here. Also, a new title is in the works. 4/21/03 Let's forget the help file. There is no need for such a section if the forum is not operating. The Spectra Cal Museum is currently being streamlined and updated, and I'm looking too add some history to the content. The new title is almost complete. I'll try to have it up this Friday. 4/25/03 It has been brought to my attention that the gray link color is hard to see on some people's browsers. As a result, I have reversed the link and hover colors for clarity. The first Timelog has been published. It is very short, but serves as a tool to familiarize visitors with the format of future code for Superheat. If anyone would like help with the code, drop me a line and I'll see what I can do. Don't expect direct answers, as the idea is to make you think. Also, the update archives have been reformatted and separated by years, lest the page should become exceedingly long winded. As is obvious, the new title is up. Sharp eyes will notice it shares the date and symbolism of Superheat, and that theme will shortly creep into the entire site. 4/28/03 Animated buttons have been added below the title for ease of navigation. The interval for the Timelogs will be two weeks. With the first code being published on the 25th of this month, I will mark the date of the next code on 5/09/03. 5/09/03 Most of the work this week has been on the backend, securing the directories and working out some newer scripts. The second Timelog is available for interpretation, and, based on the popularity of these writings, I may post some essays that I have completed in the past. For review, of course. The Superheat image toward the bottom of the index has been removed to further speed the load time of the page; the inverted image above the Timelog will remain. As of this writing I have received no negative comments about the look of the site. As a result, the theme is here to stay, including the rotating quote below. 5/14/03 The Superheat Timelogs have been combined for clarity. 7/18/03 As is obvious already, the core of the site is public once again. There will be no update in the short term, as the backend scripting needs some troubleshooting here on the index. The Timelogs will continue as soon as possible. The title image has been replaced temporarily until the Wraith image can be made more acceptable. I have received some negative feedback on the ad content produced by me. Unfortunately, this will not change as the greater good must be served. "I sit here with my Appletini and television wondering what the Boat must feel like -- swaying gently under the awesome power of the Mediterranean, the breeze tickling the enormous sails above, the crew scurrying to secure comforts for the fortunate that are aboard -- to be sitting in the comfort of the aft salon unconcerned about the 104 degree heat in Pleasanton, California, or the traffic that is doubtless on 580 right now flowing like molasses in January. Sometimes the thought is overwhelming, and can contribute to the futility of a day without the distraction of work. It can be difficult to decide the lesser of two punishments." 7/19/03 The third Timelog is available for review. "I can envision the Boat under sail, cutting the sea with ease... And almost feel the wind." 7/21/03 The title image is midway in its rework, and should be back up by close of business Thursday. "The clock just keeps spinning, no matter the hell of the day's events, no matter the difficulty or heat of debate. Spinning, out of control. Another Appletini afternoon. This brings on a thought -- who could be comfortable in eleven-thousand square feet of space? A home with more wet bars than bedrooms? Who could conceive of such a thing? Well, probably the same intuitive thinker that graced the world with blue water sailing yachts." 7/28/03 The Webmaster info section has returned for no good reason other than to display a picture of yours truly. A link has been added to the static menu as well. "Sitting among the muddy, middle-fork of the Stanislaus, the water motion reminds me of the repetitiveness of the spinning clock hands -- endlessly flowing over the rocks and licking away the shores, paying no attention to the unrelenting difficulties and trials piled upon individual shoulders. The sounds of the rushing, milky-brown river cannot begin to untie so many knots, which have been tied again and again, in the ropes of the mind." 8/03/03 There is no latest. I don't believe there can ever be a solid purpose here. "The Skyy has been flowing like a river. A few acquaintances, a few drinks. Some pleasant conversation and some odd glances. Couple twenty-two years of memories and regrets, and a few choice hours of being alone. Mix well and throw in a dash of depression and the resulting cocktail becomes a weekend in hell." 8/10/03 "So there I was... One moment free to do as I please, and the next, four sets of electronically locked doors between me and the outside world. Only the second floor, mind you, there was no fear of anything worse -- like the fellow upstairs that decided it was time to leave through the window. I watched them repair it swiftly so as to not alter too much the appearance of that lovely hotel. Plenty of time. Nothing but time. Boring. No more Skyy... 'You should try and focus yourself on repairing that which has been so badly taken apart', she told me. I felt like nothing more than a fractured window blemishing the facade of the illusion." 8/12/03 Great news! I can still hear, according to NASA. Oh, and the quote continues to rotate, if anyone is listening. Also, there is a link to the lyrics page on the static menu to the left. If you can't access or see the menu, upgrade something. My ramblings will continue indefinitely. 'I remember the King And his Queen -- I shall never forget No finer woman ever lay before me Dark, and filled with beauty All it took was one lonely kiss Her lips, swollen and red Smothered all over me I felt faint and without control And with great thirst, I drank deeply.' 8/15/03 "Thinking about the Boat as usual. There are things in this world from which there can be no abstinence, as the splendor of the Mediterranean will prove. The Boat will dictate its own required lifestyle, and any distraction or loss of attention can be cause for immediate expulsion from that which can only be termed as paradise. (We'll get into that definition later.) Such a commanding presence in any sea, as well as the world, will not in any way be viewed as trivial or anything other than with respect. The Boat is not to be taken lightly nor will it be sufficient to merely call it special. Context is critical, and moreover, undeniably a matter of class. These things I write can never be so important as the genuine article, forever floating just beyond my wildest dreams. The term 'paradise' is only in the mind. Without a consciousness to realize what can be experienced, it becomes nothing more than another place to be viewed from afar." 8/28/03 That last update may have been a bit convoluted. Needless to say, I have no explanation. Let's just move along, shall we? "The heat, the dust, and the distilled sense of awareness. The Boat was nowhere in sight. Lack of creature comforts, and too much opportunity for personal thought created an almost surreal atmosphere of sorrow and indignity (not to mention the audacity of sipping a classic from a plastic cup. Plastic of all things!). The extreme difficulty of placing the mind beyond anything within view, beyond any presence of company, and linking that mind with the awesome spectacle that is the Boat, had brought a moment's escape, no matter the cost to the weekend. Little did I know, the Boat was closer than thought possible. Later, during an actual glimpse of that presence of Beauty, I was transported far from the heated and restrictive environment to a place of utter happiness and contentment. Not long, mind you, but enough. What an incredible sight." 9/2/03 "There is a Grey Goose in the Skyy, and it hath landed in the conscious mind of the damaged soul. Tomorrow's celebration is a subject for protracted discussion. Today, being a huge decision day, is difficult to get past at this point. Maybe it's time to throw in a few choice words from the newest copy of 'The Dictionary of Choice Terms Driven by a Distinct Surplus of Stupidity' made famous by one of the great loves of my life... 'all pain disappears it's the nature of my circuitry drowns out all i hear there's no escape from this my new consciousness the me that you know used to have feelings but the blood has stopped pumping and he is left to decay the me that you know is now made up of wires and even when i'm right with you i'm so far away i can try to get away -- but i've strapped myself in i can try to scratch away the sound in my ears i can see it killing away all of my bad parts i don't want to listen but it's all to clear' Well now, that sums it up nicely. After another weekend lost in a daze of vodka and heat and friends undeserving of the mass of detritus spewing forth from my convoluted mind, we arrive at the future of the moment. The Boat has apparently run aground into a painful and considerably worse place than the Mediterranean, no less caused by yours truly. This has come as no surprise, mind you, just another couple of lives racked up on the hash marks of my gunstock of mistakes (I believe we're up to four total now). How many more are we sparing in the future thanks to the celebration?? How many more could suffer at the hands of our author? Any answer would be mere speculation, naturally, and would serve only to confound the minds and hearts of tomorrow as to the purpose of such a unique destroyer. I believe that the time for updates has come to a close. Perhaps the future will brighten after a few drinks in Vegas. See you down the road of the unknown." 9/11/03 In remembrance... 9/12/03 Is anyone finding the site a bit dark and depressing? Live with it, and remember, there are a billion other pages you could be viewing right now instead. This site will continue to be in symbolic flux for the foreseeable future. The various items that appear and disappear according to my daily whims are extremely important to the fluidity of the content. When I say self-serving, I mean it. Also, the updates do not seem to draw any eyes once they leave the index (you didn't know that I spent all my precious time archiving for continuity?), so I may discontinue those sections. Perhaps if I had received some feedback or even so much as a single comment on any aspect of the content here, I would feel motivated enough to make nice with the wording. In short, forget it. It really is too bad no one wants to read any of this. Believe it or not, there is a bit of thought and effort displayed here. I am overwhelmingly compelled to continue, though. So be it. I have decided to change the color of the update text to create contrast between it and the sections in which I am speaking. "Savior Sphinx of the pyramid will be missed. Sometimes the most effective repair of a problem is to afford more damage in order to serve a facade of the original breakage. Full of lobster and salad (and maybe some Goose), I took off for the MGM Grand's Studio Cafe at 11:00pm. It's a hell of a walk from the pyramid, only half a block, but it takes a tremendous amount of time to negotiate. With eyes on me everywhere, I trotted to the best of my ability over escalators and along sidewalks feeling like dropping into traffic at every step. It was very warm, still over eighty degrees, and quite windy, making it tough to sail along the large bridges between the Excalibur and Tropicana. The wind made my hair into what looked to be some sort of half-assed bird's nest from another planet. This did not help my present state of mind, as I was already apprehensive enough about meeting Lena at all. For whatever reason -- maybe my own small sense of self-preservation -- I had hoped she would bring some comfort into my blurry, excessive weekend. I suppose the bar at the Steakhouse probably would have been a better choice of venue for an evening conversation, but the fact that she was employed by the Mandalay Resort Group conveniently removed four of our choices for locale. Apparently, there had been a recent memo dictating some guidelines for contact with casino patrons beyond the normal chit chat. It was for this simple reason that she recommended the MGM. The cafe was busy, as I'm sure it was most nights, being the only food available during the late hours. I arrived after only a 28-minute journey to find Lena nowhere in sight, so I decided to make myself scarce to the viewing public in the casino. She arrived a few minutes later sporting some kind of spandex dress that immediately sent me into hiding (mentally, of course) and forced me to continually check my own appearance for fear of not being dressed for the Grand atmosphere. This can be exceedingly taxing over the course of a meal and drinks. Fortunately, I had enough insight to request a booth in the corner. A curved, high-backed booth overlooking the casino floor, elevated slightly above the heads of the other guests, made me somewhat more comfortable for the moment. Soon enough, though (and as usual), my comfort level dropped significantly far to drive me from Lena and the cafe, stepping with a purpose the entire distance back to my home on the 26th floor. After a brief fight with anxiety, I was able to relax and drop into sleep. She understood, being a degreed student of the psyche already, and also with a bit of conversation with me at the Pyramid, that I could not stay any longer with what felt like a million pairs of probing eyes taking me apart. It seems that the journey from the MGM back to the Pyramid felt so far because I was consumed by the illusion of so much ridicule and laughter following every step. This reminds me of lunch Saturday at the Palm inside the Forum Shops at Caesar's Palace. The request for a booth sometimes seems to baffle the hostess (no male hosts in Vegas!) which immediately forces me into a place of wondering why I must appear so odd. Is it odd? How many people are more comfortable sinking into the closure and privacy of a high-back sofa, as opposed to being perched on an open-back chair in the middle of the room, possibly the occupant of a pathway through the dining room? Is it really that much of a stretch of the norm to think of such? Now, I realize that most diners are thinking of their companions as well as the meal, menu choices, drinks, etc., and not so much the location of the seating. Possibly the most common thought might be, 'we would like to sit somewhere fairly distant from the noisy kitchen', and this is understandable. No one likes the clanking, imposing sounds of the dishes when they are dining in a well-respected and well-known establishment where an average lunch outing might run in the neighborhood of $100 for two. This entire discussion is based on my interpretation of one word: atmosphere. Some don't particularly pay mind to the concept of eating a meal in any specific type of atmosphere. A person with some variety of social anxiety, however, might be considerably more concerned with this. In the eyes and mind of the average restaurant patron, or the typical person for that matter, this thought process may not be so easily understood. The discomfort associated with a room full of people can be overwhelming and even cause a withdrawal of disturbing proportions. Perhaps we should cut it off right here. To be continued soon. Remember, there is an exit." 9/14/03 This next paragraph is brought to you by our sponsors, an ethereal combination of my heart and Grey Goose l'Orange. "I cannot last much longer. It is getting more and more difficult to put up this appearance of everything being all right and showing that I have hope. My heart and mind are in such turmoil that any possible escape is like a heavenly dream. The hellish place from which I must emerge can only be described as an emotional purgatory. I wish I had the comfort of the Boat. That would surely be enough, but such likelihood is beyond even the odds in Vegas." 9/15/03 I have received a request to continue the Timelog series of Superheat. Had this request come from anyone other than a VIP, I might not be so willing to comply. However, and I can say this in all honesty, the stories will continue to unfold just as soon as I have my mind firing on all cylinders again. In the meantime, these updates are about all I can crank out. "The winds of change are nearing as I write. Unfortunately, winds usually accompany a storm. The disrupted cacophony of thought that has traveled from beyond the blackness to settle in the conscious mind of our author is presently in a battle for control. No matter the Geese in the Skyy, no matter the lessons born from a journey to the Pyramid, this battle will be won by one side or the other. There is no good or bad inherent, only the effects of the past hells revisited on a daily basis. From a greater distance than can be imagined, this storm will arrive in its own time, and with it will doubtless be questions within questions, and the pain of not knowing the most perplexing of all, the 'why'. The most elementary statement in all of science, the very beginning of wisdom is, 'I do not know'. The truth is perched wholly on this: I do not know what will happen next. Not even the mighty Shield of Possibility can protect such an unknown situation." 9/15/03 ...more "I can feel the Boat is near. What a thought. So close and yet still beyond my dreams. Perhaps, in the future of the unknown, a perfect moment -- a splendorous time, a beautiful place. These are the desires that know of no boundaries, no constraints, no limits. The vastness of time and space brought to their knees by the possibility of love. A want and need beyond dimension, destiny and comprehension. The Boat is not something to be considered in passing, nor is it available for the typical, plodding and pedantic fare that inhabits this spinning globe. There is an enormous amount of consideration and respect involved when referring to something so lovely and unappreciated. There can be no escape from the inevitable. There cannot be any abstinence from the overwhelming power of that which I see in my mind as happiness. This may seem ambiguous at best, but there is a soul to this Boat, and it is connected to me in a way not easy to define. My every thought and every waking moment is focused on the possibility of a future on this craft, and a future of the happiness of which it is so deserving. The Boat is a representative of the very definition of beauty. It has my utmost understanding, caring, and the deepest of love. I sincerely hope for the future of a paradise." 9/16/03 As is obvious, the Obsidian Wraith title has returned. This will remain until a more appropriate title image can be generated. "A good day in the realm of the Orange Geese. As the tides of life influence the destinies of all of us -- or, more correctly, attempt to do so -- the path clears further into the future of paradise. Perhaps, gods be willing, my own future will merge with the tremendous beauty and power of the Mediterranean Sea, and that symbol of love and awareness, the Boat. I cannot imagine a higher level of being." And now, without further delay, the Wraith presents the first installment of: 'The Orange Goose Flies Over The Boat' "We join the story in progress, after a long sail from Lake St. Clair, two lovely fall days in New York, and a dramatic exit into the sprawling Atlantic. The vessel is capable of so many quiet, smooth and fulfilling miles of water when under sail that it can become difficult to put in to port and leave the splendor of the ocean -- especially when fuel is of no concern. But, and this is mostly from a standpoint of survival, we do need to keep the yacht filled with consumables and the staples of a long voyage. This way, while lounging on the aft deck, we can enjoy something cold while gliding along the isles of Italy without interruption. Whenever it was that we left New York, the weather was quite pleasant for November. The cold air kept the pace of the deckhands brisk and the mainsail taught, while deep below preparations were already underway for a dinner in the formal. Very soon the clink of crystal will be heard echoing throughout the wood-paneled hallways of one of the largest blue water sailing yachts ever to cruise the open sea." 9/18/03 'The Orange Goose Flies Over The Boat' Part Two "Dinner was fabulous as usual. The staff impeccable and the atmosphere could not possibly be more beautiful and " comforting. The aft deck is lovely in the evening, especially with the city lights reflecting off the water and the breeze gently waving the canopy over our heads. Dining after dark should be a requirement in the Mediterranean Sea. The remainder of the night would be spent in the main salon with a movie and drinks. Such a large room, the salon, but all the more cozy thanks to candles and the warmth of the fire. The morning welcomed us with the sounds of birds singing from the mainmast and a delivery of coffee and croissants to the master stateroom. The business of the day would be a priority, and recreation had been put in the background for the time being. As much as the Boat represents the ultimate in relaxation and serenity, some matters must be put in front in order to serve the future of the lifestyle. This particular morning's affairs were to be financial in nature, and would require a little jaunt across the bay to Monaco, and from there a short train ride into France. The cruise from the yacht to the shore was always fun, and was usually made by way of the tender. Being as expansive as it was, the yacht always conveyed an air of solidity and stability, and as a result, the contrast between it and the smaller craft was striking. At just over 44 feet, the tender was a bit cramped for anything more than a ride of a few hours." 9/22/03 "Closer. Closer to a new beginning, closer to an end. Closer to an understanding, closer to the lower limits of knowledge. Closer to Paradise, closer to never knowing of a paradise. Closer to two real friends, closer to pushing too far, too much, too fast. Closer to some kind of breakthrough, closer to some kind of breakdown. Closer to freedom from pain, closer to freedom through pain. Closer to knowing the serenity of the Boat, closer to losing that precious Boat forever. Closer to a separation from guilt, closer to a separation from myself. Closer to distilling the fear of everyday, closer to fearing the distilled sense of awareness. Closer to a sense of reality, closer to not wanting any reality. Closer to returning to the norm, closer to being destroyed by the hypocrisy of the norm. Closer to me, closer to no one like me. Closer to resembling a person, closer to a person with no resemblance at all. Closer to rising above the bottom, closer to knowing nothing but the bottom. Closer to the taxing heat of society, closer to the drowning cold which knows of no society. Closer to leaving the prying eyes that feed the paranoia, closer to the crippling reality that is me. Closer, forever closer, to living within the spiraling, disjointed and endless conundrum that is myself. Just me, nothing but me. Closer to me." 'The Orange Goose Flies Over The Boat' Part Three "Elizabeth always provided comfort and security, especially when venturing into a new port of call for the day. " Despite the lack of roominess in the salon, there was still ample space for conversation and even an agreeable lunch. With a trip of only a few miles into the harbor, she has served us well. The intention to board the train in Monte Carlo had been brought to a halt, and the journey into France would then require a visit to the heliport in Fontvielle, and from there a short flight over to Marseille for lunch with a few friends with charter connections. The chartering of the yacht over the Winter months was to facilitate a little cash flow for the next spring and summer's activities in the US and Canada." 9/24/03 "The morning sun is shining, the storm has passed, and the hidden values of life and love are overtaking the din of the mess and the tragic events of late. All of these things that I have carried through the Black Voyage will be shed and are no longer burdening the walk, no matter the path. After longing and wanting and needing, the face has turned itself away from me, and cannot further demand my attention, my obedience, nor my strength of heart. After finally understanding the nature and power of destiny, I can now patiently stand and wait for my fate to unfold as it will, guiding when and where I am able. The past is like a cloaked figure, following behind at every step, and for all time. This figure is capable of bringing itself to the forefront of one's mind and conditioning said mind into any state with which it can corrupt or enhance, and as a result, can be the driving force behind actions to satiate desires both subtle and striking. These are the creations of a mind at the hands of a charge which has the capability of destroying lives beyond comprehension, or, with the utmost contrast, developing love and beauty of staggering proportions. For myself, I prefer the latter, and that which I describe as the ultimate definition of happiness -- the Boat. I can only hope and dream that this will pass. And I do..." 9/26/03 and beyond "The more things change... At some point, this has to come to an end. There are no more places to explore, no more lives to put under, and no remaining hearts to be trampled. The bottom has been exposed, and the darkness revealed. The excursion to the promised land was, apparently, unappreciated. Or, more precisely, under-appreciated. The mentality achieved while under those circumstances was extraordinary. However, the potential was not realized. Lena's recent call and the resulting conversation became too existential, and I fear would result in the same no matter her proximity to me. In other words, the talk that we shared at the MGM Grand did not serve any purpose whatsoever. In fact, it may have caused more harm than good at the time. Now I realize that it doesn't matter. The Boat has drifted further away and may never return. The sadness in knowing this is true has become overwhelming, and has made me cognizant of the fact that repairs to myself are not only necessary, but very possible. My Boat of dreams has been sailed away by none other than yours truly, and it is unbelievable that I could allow this to happen. My status as a strong and supportive friend must return. This Boat is far too important to be let go, and there is far too much Love to just throw it away. I wish it there, always. The importance of the Boat cannot be measured easily. It is true of the past episodes of my loath of myself, but the energy and unrelenting optimism of the multitudes of supporters have succeeded in turning the tide to the positive. They have saved me from myself. I sincerely hope that there are no ill feelings and no contempt toward me despite the past. I am confident that the future is lighted and can be dictated by the love and understanding that I have for so long overlooked. My desire to be there for the possibility of the Boat can and will allow me to overcome my recent state. This is the decision I have made. This moment, 6:55pm on September 26th, 2003 is the end of the downtrodden, dull, pedantic, and plodding negativity that has inhabited and followed our author for weeks. There will be no more from this point forward. Today is the first day of the peaceful overcoming. It is, without any doubt in my brilliant mind, 'it'. Period. I am conscious of the fact that others may doubt this after the ups and downs of late, but time will prove the truth of light." 10/01/03 A slight change may be apparent at this time. This change is going to remain for the foreseeable future. Any requests for the format to be changed back can be addressed to the following: noonegivesashitaboutyouropinion@livewithit.com The symbolism has become paramount, and is here to stay. My opinion can, and will, supersede any other that comes along. As trying as these past few weeks have been, the outlet you see laid out before you has grown into a haven for our author beyond any dream or thought. Oh, and if anyone has a problem with the image of Dani below, you are invited to visit the rest of the Internet, and not return here. Harsh, you say? Whatever. What. Ever. Send cash and I'll consider your thoughts above the landfill level. "The nothingness of the present has invaded this markup. There can be no denying the strange feel and perpetual sadness of my separation from the desired. Gone are the fruits of knowledge, the stability of the reference, the red of loveliness, and the possibility of perfection. The ambiguity of the forefront of the journey has forever diffused my laughter and times of joy. The future of the moment has been left long unrecognized, and the Geese have flown awry. Once more has the realization of the importance of the past journeys overcome the site context, and from this point forward, it has taken over. Not clear enough? I am stuck in this Gulag of an existence, forever seeking an expiatory purification. It would seem that the End, which for a time was in sight, has been an elaborate mirage created out of the spatially defensive factions of my mind. The reality that has been so deluded of late can be defined as the ultimate resulting sense of finality from the darkest and most hidden depths of the human soul. These are the times of the stormy and dreary thought which can define life's difficulties. Any path from this point cannot be trusted beyond the limited vision of which I am now subject. A few responses from the promised land may now be more necessary than I had imagined. Any escape is a positive situation. Any. I can only hope that the answers are not as restrictive and eluding as the questions that for so long have polluted my mind. I. Am. Stuck." 10/03/03 "What a colossal waste of time this has become. Perhaps all of the others don't realize the dire situation at hand. These Goddamned times and days of the past several weeks are beginning to make me realize my value, and my destiny among a multitude of confusion. The loneliness has consumed, the darkness has engulfed, and the fog has settled on my heart and mind. I fail to understand the ultimate goal of these efforts. There is a distinct possibility that the Gods Of Emotion have created a place for me that has been preordained from the beginning. Who are any of us to argue with that which cannot be denied? How can these things be understood without the damage that brings them to light? How much pain and suffering is required before the answers are illuminated? I will say, in no uncertain terms, that the future may be of no exit. The sacred avenues of the promised land are, for certain, available to numb the painful reality within which I now float. This analysis may be ill-conceived. It may also be a means to an end. Introspective and reflective, I sit day after day and ponder and wonder of the meaning of me, and the forgone conclusion that I may not be as pivotal and important as I may have thought. Damn this condition. Damn it." 10/04/03 So, it's like this. Evidently, my writing is cause for confusion. The style in which I place my thoughts here is my own, and may not be aligned with proper forms of literature. I realize that there may be a few grammatical errors, and probably more than one person's share of misused words as well as overly long sentences, but I believe that the importance of the subject matter warrants a certain level of ambiguity in order to protect myself. I'm convinced that there are only a true handful of visitors here, and the fact of the matter is, I'm stretching it enough already. Nothing will change. "The Palace Of Excess is calling to me from afar. The idea of denying this presence, this wonder of wonders, this brilliant and shimmering light among the dark of my existence, is so far removed from my psyche, that the resulting compulsion is beginning to overtake me with uncommon swiftness. Still, despite these desires, I can feel the multitudes waving off any conceivable thought of it. If it does come to pass that my presence is requested at the highest level of the Palace, you can rest assured that our author will be in capable hands. Look for the wonderful sign of the wraith coming to a twisted web site near you, very soon. (Or, perhaps, never. We just don't know for sure. Note example below.) The fact of the matter is, the possibility must remain for the foreseeable time ahead. This may seem strange, even abnormal to a degree, but it is more necessary than can be put into words here or anywhere. The Palace stands as representative of so much escape, so much of a release from the damning reality that has materialized of late, that there can be absolutely no denying its power over the mind and body. Hard to agree, you say? Well, I have this for you... Blah, blah, blah... Fishcakes. The Gods of Chaos that have invaded and made themselves at home are creating difficulties beyond the norm. This norm is already so taxing, that if ever there was such misery and pain, it is here and now, and all but having completely won. Dani remains, in all his splendor, as the sole ambassador of this Chaos, and he is settled in nicely. I'm sorry for the fact that the multitudes disagree with his presence below. Darn, I so much wanted to conform to the wills of the masses. Not." 10/06/03 "Yet another facet of the gem that was my life has been illuminated for my view and subsequent painful regret. It is incredible, even to myself, how much has been unraveled and strewn about, and when I look at what remains, I see the thread that had woven the tapestry of my very existence. I will refrain from any further use of the galaxy of clichés that should be applied to this situation." 10/08/03 "just a reflection just a glimpse just a little reminder of all the what abouts and all the might have could have beens another day some other way but not another reason to continue and now you're one of us the wretched the hopes and prays the better days the far aways forget it" 10/17/03 "It would seem that our author (Australopithecus aethiopicus) has too long been subject to the rigors of an enlarged cranial plate combined with a considerably smaller brain structure and resulting in a condition which we will refer to as 'proto-human regression and damage syndrome'. One of the long-term effects of this condition is a propensity to spew forth wording such as the lovely phrasing we have seen here lately. For some reason, this recent condition has not subsided. The multitudes have mellowed slightly, and the implied belief is that there is too much to work with; far too much complication of the recent situation and mindset. I can understand this. Our author and anti-hero can be quite a handful, difficult in the extreme one moment, and peaceful as heaven the next. The decision of escape and hiding has yet to be fully analyzed and implemented, and the effects of such cannot be taken lightly. This is the main purpose of such a deep consideration. The promised land awaits, but the time is no longer at hand. Monday, Tuesday -- no problem, aside from the usual difficulties, both tidy and smeared, but nothing compared to the slump that follows the s****. And it has followed. Every second of that Tuesday -- every moment after its end, was in no way easy to live. The unparalleled comfort and security of that s**** cannot be measured in this life, and can by no means be forgotten. The thoughts of another similar s**** in the future will, quite literally, fuel our author's desire to move beyond the typical distilled atmosphere of late into a place of beauty. The Boat is no longer adrift, and the thought of that lovely representation of paradise being so near is enough to drive me to the limits of human comprehension. Any possibility of contact with the Boat can prolong the potential for happiness beyond my dreams. This vessel of the Mediterranean cannot float too far from my vision, it cannot moor beyond my thought, and will never sail from my memory. That Tuesday -- a day of hours, those hours made up of minutes, an subsequent seconds adding up to those hellish moments of sadness, despair, loss and uncertainty. It was those very times that routed me into a place of mental and emotional hiding. A place yearning for separation and escape from the endless difficulties that, unbeknownst to me, lay ahead. Maybe I'll make it. Maybe not." 10/18/03 The site is available for viewing for the time being. The downtime was necessary for work to be accomplished on the backend. There may be a bit more time offline toward the end of November as I am considering the ramifications of this new look. It takes considerable time to change color schemes, mainly due to the graphics. "Spoken clearly and to the point, ours is a savage environment. Technology and sustenance, climate and clothing, we are living through the essence of a truculent and toilsome existence. At times lush and operatic, it can also be overwhelmingly trying. Survival through eons of commerce and compromise can be the end of all things, or the infantile beginning. The north routes are falling victim to the inclement weather and harsh road conditions that set in early, and the Mackenzie will be out of commission for crossing for several weeks. The options are narrowing severely. Time now requires patience in the extreme. The merciful days of late have been less arduous and seem somewhat surreal in comparison to the past several weeks. The Palace is still floating nearby, making its presence impossible to ignore and enticing me every moment with its power to alleviate and reassure, as well as the feeling of belonging. This may yet overcome my senses and force me from the cradle in which I now rest. The anonymity and isolation of those floors and cavernous spaces of the Palace can be therapeutic beyond all rational thought, and to the point of euphoria. This may be difficult for others to understand, but I don't really care. Another evening spent wallowing in the cool waters of the Mediterranean. The Boat is off in the distance; not out of sight, mind you, but out of reach. The floating sense of being into which I have now plunged is serving to redefine my current level of thinking. Should the Palace become necessary, it is possible for that escape to dull the future. Far gone are the days of simplicity. Gone. The times of lightheartedness and fun. These are the uncomfortable hours of undecided feelings and downtrodden thought. The caring is diminishing, and now must be forced. Pushing for happiness can result in extreme difficulty and sadness, or the end expected." 11/03/03 "Peace, for the time being. Just the word itself is comforting. This evening was that of difficulty. A person of whom I am very fond, and also have a great respect for, was slighted in the extreme. I cannot say that I was completely able to retain my composure during this outrage, and in fact, I managed to lose my self control just a bit. She is important to me, and stands as an example of people in general. Real people, mind you, not the vermin that so easily pollute this world and skate by with ease, that are striving at every moment to better themselves and better the lives of others. True, beautiful and very feeling souls who live their lives under appreciated and even unappreciated every day of this world's existence, and it can be overly arduous to think about this." 11/22/03 The site is continuing to undergo changes -- to the positive, mind you -- and will be complete sometime this Winter. No color differences, just content direction and accessibility. It has become necessary to force the issue upward. Recent changes have taken over my mind completely, and will be reflected here, slowly. As such, the implementation may seem subtle, but the end result displayed may appear quite striking. Well see. :-) The continually rotating quotes will remain, as well as the static menu. "The season of holidays is upon us. What a lovely and special time of year. Leaves blowing; cool, crisp weather and the rush of planning occasions; these are the gatherings which can define happiness and closeness, as well as a feeling of belonging. No other time of year is capable of seeding so much joy." 12/6/03 A title and color change, yet again. This time, I believe I have struck on a scheme for all time. The graphics and text coloration are wonderful together, and the dim manner in which everything is displayed brings an atmosphere of a medieval nature. Lovely, isn't it? Also, the Timelog writings will continue very soon, as the hustle of the holidays has taken over our schedules. The 800-pixel width seems to aid in readability, don't you think? Let's keep it as such. 12/21/03 The themes that have taken up residence here over the last several months, aside from that which you are now viewing, will not return. An era driven by uncertainty and hopelessness drew those images and colors. These were the downward times of foggy thought and stepping through quicksand, which, it seemed, would not come to an end. Fortunately, the landscape has changed dramatically and has helped to save the future of the site. On a structural note, the Trailer Design section has been revamped to better reflect the direction of the index you now see. The floorplan section will be changed a bit soon, and more drawings furthering the design are to be displayed. The remainder of the content here will follow suit soon. It does take considerable time to make changes. Also, the email links are going to be spam-proofed so as to prevent my mailboxes from overfilling. Instead of clickable links, the addresses will be displayed with a <no spam> section in the middle. Simply remove the unneeded text and copy-and-paste the rest. 12/27/03 Several sections have been styled to follow with the design of the index. The images section is now operational once again, including the links to the NASA and truck sections. Also, the Spectra Cal Museum has been reworked a bit in order to function more fully. Number Nine materials and resources are currently being amassed for the site, and will take some time to completely organize before publishing. Once all is in place, however, the tribute to that pioneering company should be appropriately displayed. To 2004 Copyright ©2002-2024 comainterrupted.com All rights reserved All other trademarks, logos and graphics are the property of their respective owners Created by Brandywine Engineering using Microsoft Visual Studio 2022 and .NET Framework 4.8 Questions? Comments? Anything? Gather your thoughts and compose a message to the psychos in charge
Anno 2003 read ( words) 4/07/03 The Family Pictures section is now 15 pages, the first 3 of which have thumbnails so far. The images on the site are proving to be the most difficult as a result of the server bandwidth limits as well as space. I will be slowly removing unneeded and older content to free space for the more popular areas. The [Link removed.] Supertwo project also has some new pictures of recent work and a short description of my plans. There will be some changes to the ad content within these pages which may or may not prove to be favorable to all concerned. The community service ads will remain, however. The preview of a second concept caused no more than confusion and questions, and as a result will be kept out of the light in the short term. If anyone would like an explanation of the upcoming format change please let me know. 4/09/03 The countdown to Superheat has begun. Information on location and the first code will be released 4/25/03. The announcement image below will then link to a timelog with news and relevant documentation. 4/12/03 The FAQ is up and running. The page looks pretty nice, if I do say so myself. If anyone has further inquiries, just ask, and I'll add them to the page. The help section will be up next. The palette for the timelog is available for viewing and will have content on the 25th. 4/15/03 The index is now valid HTML 4.01, as well as Valid CSS. After many hours of debugging and research, the markup has been ironed out to a tee. Now, on to the rest of the site! The update archive will return soon as it is undergoing a change to follow the darker theme here. Also, a new title is in the works. 4/21/03 Let's forget the help file. There is no need for such a section if the forum is not operating. The Spectra Cal Museum is currently being streamlined and updated, and I'm looking too add some history to the content. The new title is almost complete. I'll try to have it up this Friday. 4/25/03 It has been brought to my attention that the gray link color is hard to see on some people's browsers. As a result, I have reversed the link and hover colors for clarity. The first Timelog has been published. It is very short, but serves as a tool to familiarize visitors with the format of future code for Superheat. If anyone would like help with the code, drop me a line and I'll see what I can do. Don't expect direct answers, as the idea is to make you think. Also, the update archives have been reformatted and separated by years, lest the page should become exceedingly long winded. As is obvious, the new title is up. Sharp eyes will notice it shares the date and symbolism of Superheat, and that theme will shortly creep into the entire site. 4/28/03 Animated buttons have been added below the title for ease of navigation. The interval for the Timelogs will be two weeks. With the first code being published on the 25th of this month, I will mark the date of the next code on 5/09/03. 5/09/03 Most of the work this week has been on the backend, securing the directories and working out some newer scripts. The second Timelog is available for interpretation, and, based on the popularity of these writings, I may post some essays that I have completed in the past. For review, of course. The Superheat image toward the bottom of the index has been removed to further speed the load time of the page; the inverted image above the Timelog will remain. As of this writing I have received no negative comments about the look of the site. As a result, the theme is here to stay, including the rotating quote below. 5/14/03 The Superheat Timelogs have been combined for clarity. 7/18/03 As is obvious already, the core of the site is public once again. There will be no update in the short term, as the backend scripting needs some troubleshooting here on the index. The Timelogs will continue as soon as possible. The title image has been replaced temporarily until the Wraith image can be made more acceptable. I have received some negative feedback on the ad content produced by me. Unfortunately, this will not change as the greater good must be served. "I sit here with my Appletini and television wondering what the Boat must feel like -- swaying gently under the awesome power of the Mediterranean, the breeze tickling the enormous sails above, the crew scurrying to secure comforts for the fortunate that are aboard -- to be sitting in the comfort of the aft salon unconcerned about the 104 degree heat in Pleasanton, California, or the traffic that is doubtless on 580 right now flowing like molasses in January. Sometimes the thought is overwhelming, and can contribute to the futility of a day without the distraction of work. It can be difficult to decide the lesser of two punishments." 7/19/03 The third Timelog is available for review. "I can envision the Boat under sail, cutting the sea with ease... And almost feel the wind." 7/21/03 The title image is midway in its rework, and should be back up by close of business Thursday. "The clock just keeps spinning, no matter the hell of the day's events, no matter the difficulty or heat of debate. Spinning, out of control. Another Appletini afternoon. This brings on a thought -- who could be comfortable in eleven-thousand square feet of space? A home with more wet bars than bedrooms? Who could conceive of such a thing? Well, probably the same intuitive thinker that graced the world with blue water sailing yachts." 7/28/03 The Webmaster info section has returned for no good reason other than to display a picture of yours truly. A link has been added to the static menu as well. "Sitting among the muddy, middle-fork of the Stanislaus, the water motion reminds me of the repetitiveness of the spinning clock hands -- endlessly flowing over the rocks and licking away the shores, paying no attention to the unrelenting difficulties and trials piled upon individual shoulders. The sounds of the rushing, milky-brown river cannot begin to untie so many knots, which have been tied again and again, in the ropes of the mind." 8/03/03 There is no latest. I don't believe there can ever be a solid purpose here. "The Skyy has been flowing like a river. A few acquaintances, a few drinks. Some pleasant conversation and some odd glances. Couple twenty-two years of memories and regrets, and a few choice hours of being alone. Mix well and throw in a dash of depression and the resulting cocktail becomes a weekend in hell." 8/10/03 "So there I was... One moment free to do as I please, and the next, four sets of electronically locked doors between me and the outside world. Only the second floor, mind you, there was no fear of anything worse -- like the fellow upstairs that decided it was time to leave through the window. I watched them repair it swiftly so as to not alter too much the appearance of that lovely hotel. Plenty of time. Nothing but time. Boring. No more Skyy... 'You should try and focus yourself on repairing that which has been so badly taken apart', she told me. I felt like nothing more than a fractured window blemishing the facade of the illusion." 8/12/03 Great news! I can still hear, according to NASA. Oh, and the quote continues to rotate, if anyone is listening. Also, there is a link to the lyrics page on the static menu to the left. If you can't access or see the menu, upgrade something. My ramblings will continue indefinitely. 'I remember the King And his Queen -- I shall never forget No finer woman ever lay before me Dark, and filled with beauty All it took was one lonely kiss Her lips, swollen and red Smothered all over me I felt faint and without control And with great thirst, I drank deeply.' 8/15/03 "Thinking about the Boat as usual. There are things in this world from which there can be no abstinence, as the splendor of the Mediterranean will prove. The Boat will dictate its own required lifestyle, and any distraction or loss of attention can be cause for immediate expulsion from that which can only be termed as paradise. (We'll get into that definition later.) Such a commanding presence in any sea, as well as the world, will not in any way be viewed as trivial or anything other than with respect. The Boat is not to be taken lightly nor will it be sufficient to merely call it special. Context is critical, and moreover, undeniably a matter of class. These things I write can never be so important as the genuine article, forever floating just beyond my wildest dreams. The term 'paradise' is only in the mind. Without a consciousness to realize what can be experienced, it becomes nothing more than another place to be viewed from afar." 8/28/03 That last update may have been a bit convoluted. Needless to say, I have no explanation. Let's just move along, shall we? "The heat, the dust, and the distilled sense of awareness. The Boat was nowhere in sight. Lack of creature comforts, and too much opportunity for personal thought created an almost surreal atmosphere of sorrow and indignity (not to mention the audacity of sipping a classic from a plastic cup. Plastic of all things!). The extreme difficulty of placing the mind beyond anything within view, beyond any presence of company, and linking that mind with the awesome spectacle that is the Boat, had brought a moment's escape, no matter the cost to the weekend. Little did I know, the Boat was closer than thought possible. Later, during an actual glimpse of that presence of Beauty, I was transported far from the heated and restrictive environment to a place of utter happiness and contentment. Not long, mind you, but enough. What an incredible sight." 9/2/03 "There is a Grey Goose in the Skyy, and it hath landed in the conscious mind of the damaged soul. Tomorrow's celebration is a subject for protracted discussion. Today, being a huge decision day, is difficult to get past at this point. Maybe it's time to throw in a few choice words from the newest copy of 'The Dictionary of Choice Terms Driven by a Distinct Surplus of Stupidity' made famous by one of the great loves of my life... 'all pain disappears it's the nature of my circuitry drowns out all i hear there's no escape from this my new consciousness the me that you know used to have feelings but the blood has stopped pumping and he is left to decay the me that you know is now made up of wires and even when i'm right with you i'm so far away i can try to get away -- but i've strapped myself in i can try to scratch away the sound in my ears i can see it killing away all of my bad parts i don't want to listen but it's all to clear' Well now, that sums it up nicely. After another weekend lost in a daze of vodka and heat and friends undeserving of the mass of detritus spewing forth from my convoluted mind, we arrive at the future of the moment. The Boat has apparently run aground into a painful and considerably worse place than the Mediterranean, no less caused by yours truly. This has come as no surprise, mind you, just another couple of lives racked up on the hash marks of my gunstock of mistakes (I believe we're up to four total now). How many more are we sparing in the future thanks to the celebration?? How many more could suffer at the hands of our author? Any answer would be mere speculation, naturally, and would serve only to confound the minds and hearts of tomorrow as to the purpose of such a unique destroyer. I believe that the time for updates has come to a close. Perhaps the future will brighten after a few drinks in Vegas. See you down the road of the unknown." 9/11/03 In remembrance... 9/12/03 Is anyone finding the site a bit dark and depressing? Live with it, and remember, there are a billion other pages you could be viewing right now instead. This site will continue to be in symbolic flux for the foreseeable future. The various items that appear and disappear according to my daily whims are extremely important to the fluidity of the content. When I say self-serving, I mean it. Also, the updates do not seem to draw any eyes once they leave the index (you didn't know that I spent all my precious time archiving for continuity?), so I may discontinue those sections. Perhaps if I had received some feedback or even so much as a single comment on any aspect of the content here, I would feel motivated enough to make nice with the wording. In short, forget it. It really is too bad no one wants to read any of this. Believe it or not, there is a bit of thought and effort displayed here. I am overwhelmingly compelled to continue, though. So be it. I have decided to change the color of the update text to create contrast between it and the sections in which I am speaking. "Savior Sphinx of the pyramid will be missed. Sometimes the most effective repair of a problem is to afford more damage in order to serve a facade of the original breakage. Full of lobster and salad (and maybe some Goose), I took off for the MGM Grand's Studio Cafe at 11:00pm. It's a hell of a walk from the pyramid, only half a block, but it takes a tremendous amount of time to negotiate. With eyes on me everywhere, I trotted to the best of my ability over escalators and along sidewalks feeling like dropping into traffic at every step. It was very warm, still over eighty degrees, and quite windy, making it tough to sail along the large bridges between the Excalibur and Tropicana. The wind made my hair into what looked to be some sort of half-assed bird's nest from another planet. This did not help my present state of mind, as I was already apprehensive enough about meeting Lena at all. For whatever reason -- maybe my own small sense of self-preservation -- I had hoped she would bring some comfort into my blurry, excessive weekend. I suppose the bar at the Steakhouse probably would have been a better choice of venue for an evening conversation, but the fact that she was employed by the Mandalay Resort Group conveniently removed four of our choices for locale. Apparently, there had been a recent memo dictating some guidelines for contact with casino patrons beyond the normal chit chat. It was for this simple reason that she recommended the MGM. The cafe was busy, as I'm sure it was most nights, being the only food available during the late hours. I arrived after only a 28-minute journey to find Lena nowhere in sight, so I decided to make myself scarce to the viewing public in the casino. She arrived a few minutes later sporting some kind of spandex dress that immediately sent me into hiding (mentally, of course) and forced me to continually check my own appearance for fear of not being dressed for the Grand atmosphere. This can be exceedingly taxing over the course of a meal and drinks. Fortunately, I had enough insight to request a booth in the corner. A curved, high-backed booth overlooking the casino floor, elevated slightly above the heads of the other guests, made me somewhat more comfortable for the moment. Soon enough, though (and as usual), my comfort level dropped significantly far to drive me from Lena and the cafe, stepping with a purpose the entire distance back to my home on the 26th floor. After a brief fight with anxiety, I was able to relax and drop into sleep. She understood, being a degreed student of the psyche already, and also with a bit of conversation with me at the Pyramid, that I could not stay any longer with what felt like a million pairs of probing eyes taking me apart. It seems that the journey from the MGM back to the Pyramid felt so far because I was consumed by the illusion of so much ridicule and laughter following every step. This reminds me of lunch Saturday at the Palm inside the Forum Shops at Caesar's Palace. The request for a booth sometimes seems to baffle the hostess (no male hosts in Vegas!) which immediately forces me into a place of wondering why I must appear so odd. Is it odd? How many people are more comfortable sinking into the closure and privacy of a high-back sofa, as opposed to being perched on an open-back chair in the middle of the room, possibly the occupant of a pathway through the dining room? Is it really that much of a stretch of the norm to think of such? Now, I realize that most diners are thinking of their companions as well as the meal, menu choices, drinks, etc., and not so much the location of the seating. Possibly the most common thought might be, 'we would like to sit somewhere fairly distant from the noisy kitchen', and this is understandable. No one likes the clanking, imposing sounds of the dishes when they are dining in a well-respected and well-known establishment where an average lunch outing might run in the neighborhood of $100 for two. This entire discussion is based on my interpretation of one word: atmosphere. Some don't particularly pay mind to the concept of eating a meal in any specific type of atmosphere. A person with some variety of social anxiety, however, might be considerably more concerned with this. In the eyes and mind of the average restaurant patron, or the typical person for that matter, this thought process may not be so easily understood. The discomfort associated with a room full of people can be overwhelming and even cause a withdrawal of disturbing proportions. Perhaps we should cut it off right here. To be continued soon. Remember, there is an exit." 9/14/03 This next paragraph is brought to you by our sponsors, an ethereal combination of my heart and Grey Goose l'Orange. "I cannot last much longer. It is getting more and more difficult to put up this appearance of everything being all right and showing that I have hope. My heart and mind are in such turmoil that any possible escape is like a heavenly dream. The hellish place from which I must emerge can only be described as an emotional purgatory. I wish I had the comfort of the Boat. That would surely be enough, but such likelihood is beyond even the odds in Vegas." 9/15/03 I have received a request to continue the Timelog series of Superheat. Had this request come from anyone other than a VIP, I might not be so willing to comply. However, and I can say this in all honesty, the stories will continue to unfold just as soon as I have my mind firing on all cylinders again. In the meantime, these updates are about all I can crank out. "The winds of change are nearing as I write. Unfortunately, winds usually accompany a storm. The disrupted cacophony of thought that has traveled from beyond the blackness to settle in the conscious mind of our author is presently in a battle for control. No matter the Geese in the Skyy, no matter the lessons born from a journey to the Pyramid, this battle will be won by one side or the other. There is no good or bad inherent, only the effects of the past hells revisited on a daily basis. From a greater distance than can be imagined, this storm will arrive in its own time, and with it will doubtless be questions within questions, and the pain of not knowing the most perplexing of all, the 'why'. The most elementary statement in all of science, the very beginning of wisdom is, 'I do not know'. The truth is perched wholly on this: I do not know what will happen next. Not even the mighty Shield of Possibility can protect such an unknown situation." 9/15/03 ...more "I can feel the Boat is near. What a thought. So close and yet still beyond my dreams. Perhaps, in the future of the unknown, a perfect moment -- a splendorous time, a beautiful place. These are the desires that know of no boundaries, no constraints, no limits. The vastness of time and space brought to their knees by the possibility of love. A want and need beyond dimension, destiny and comprehension. The Boat is not something to be considered in passing, nor is it available for the typical, plodding and pedantic fare that inhabits this spinning globe. There is an enormous amount of consideration and respect involved when referring to something so lovely and unappreciated. There can be no escape from the inevitable. There cannot be any abstinence from the overwhelming power of that which I see in my mind as happiness. This may seem ambiguous at best, but there is a soul to this Boat, and it is connected to me in a way not easy to define. My every thought and every waking moment is focused on the possibility of a future on this craft, and a future of the happiness of which it is so deserving. The Boat is a representative of the very definition of beauty. It has my utmost understanding, caring, and the deepest of love. I sincerely hope for the future of a paradise." 9/16/03 As is obvious, the Obsidian Wraith title has returned. This will remain until a more appropriate title image can be generated. "A good day in the realm of the Orange Geese. As the tides of life influence the destinies of all of us -- or, more correctly, attempt to do so -- the path clears further into the future of paradise. Perhaps, gods be willing, my own future will merge with the tremendous beauty and power of the Mediterranean Sea, and that symbol of love and awareness, the Boat. I cannot imagine a higher level of being." And now, without further delay, the Wraith presents the first installment of: 'The Orange Goose Flies Over The Boat' "We join the story in progress, after a long sail from Lake St. Clair, two lovely fall days in New York, and a dramatic exit into the sprawling Atlantic. The vessel is capable of so many quiet, smooth and fulfilling miles of water when under sail that it can become difficult to put in to port and leave the splendor of the ocean -- especially when fuel is of no concern. But, and this is mostly from a standpoint of survival, we do need to keep the yacht filled with consumables and the staples of a long voyage. This way, while lounging on the aft deck, we can enjoy something cold while gliding along the isles of Italy without interruption. Whenever it was that we left New York, the weather was quite pleasant for November. The cold air kept the pace of the deckhands brisk and the mainsail taught, while deep below preparations were already underway for a dinner in the formal. Very soon the clink of crystal will be heard echoing throughout the wood-paneled hallways of one of the largest blue water sailing yachts ever to cruise the open sea." 9/18/03 'The Orange Goose Flies Over The Boat' Part Two "Dinner was fabulous as usual. The staff impeccable and the atmosphere could not possibly be more beautiful and " comforting. The aft deck is lovely in the evening, especially with the city lights reflecting off the water and the breeze gently waving the canopy over our heads. Dining after dark should be a requirement in the Mediterranean Sea. The remainder of the night would be spent in the main salon with a movie and drinks. Such a large room, the salon, but all the more cozy thanks to candles and the warmth of the fire. The morning welcomed us with the sounds of birds singing from the mainmast and a delivery of coffee and croissants to the master stateroom. The business of the day would be a priority, and recreation had been put in the background for the time being. As much as the Boat represents the ultimate in relaxation and serenity, some matters must be put in front in order to serve the future of the lifestyle. This particular morning's affairs were to be financial in nature, and would require a little jaunt across the bay to Monaco, and from there a short train ride into France. The cruise from the yacht to the shore was always fun, and was usually made by way of the tender. Being as expansive as it was, the yacht always conveyed an air of solidity and stability, and as a result, the contrast between it and the smaller craft was striking. At just over 44 feet, the tender was a bit cramped for anything more than a ride of a few hours." 9/22/03 "Closer. Closer to a new beginning, closer to an end. Closer to an understanding, closer to the lower limits of knowledge. Closer to Paradise, closer to never knowing of a paradise. Closer to two real friends, closer to pushing too far, too much, too fast. Closer to some kind of breakthrough, closer to some kind of breakdown. Closer to freedom from pain, closer to freedom through pain. Closer to knowing the serenity of the Boat, closer to losing that precious Boat forever. Closer to a separation from guilt, closer to a separation from myself. Closer to distilling the fear of everyday, closer to fearing the distilled sense of awareness. Closer to a sense of reality, closer to not wanting any reality. Closer to returning to the norm, closer to being destroyed by the hypocrisy of the norm. Closer to me, closer to no one like me. Closer to resembling a person, closer to a person with no resemblance at all. Closer to rising above the bottom, closer to knowing nothing but the bottom. Closer to the taxing heat of society, closer to the drowning cold which knows of no society. Closer to leaving the prying eyes that feed the paranoia, closer to the crippling reality that is me. Closer, forever closer, to living within the spiraling, disjointed and endless conundrum that is myself. Just me, nothing but me. Closer to me." 'The Orange Goose Flies Over The Boat' Part Three "Elizabeth always provided comfort and security, especially when venturing into a new port of call for the day. " Despite the lack of roominess in the salon, there was still ample space for conversation and even an agreeable lunch. With a trip of only a few miles into the harbor, she has served us well. The intention to board the train in Monte Carlo had been brought to a halt, and the journey into France would then require a visit to the heliport in Fontvielle, and from there a short flight over to Marseille for lunch with a few friends with charter connections. The chartering of the yacht over the Winter months was to facilitate a little cash flow for the next spring and summer's activities in the US and Canada." 9/24/03 "The morning sun is shining, the storm has passed, and the hidden values of life and love are overtaking the din of the mess and the tragic events of late. All of these things that I have carried through the Black Voyage will be shed and are no longer burdening the walk, no matter the path. After longing and wanting and needing, the face has turned itself away from me, and cannot further demand my attention, my obedience, nor my strength of heart. After finally understanding the nature and power of destiny, I can now patiently stand and wait for my fate to unfold as it will, guiding when and where I am able. The past is like a cloaked figure, following behind at every step, and for all time. This figure is capable of bringing itself to the forefront of one's mind and conditioning said mind into any state with which it can corrupt or enhance, and as a result, can be the driving force behind actions to satiate desires both subtle and striking. These are the creations of a mind at the hands of a charge which has the capability of destroying lives beyond comprehension, or, with the utmost contrast, developing love and beauty of staggering proportions. For myself, I prefer the latter, and that which I describe as the ultimate definition of happiness -- the Boat. I can only hope and dream that this will pass. And I do..." 9/26/03 and beyond "The more things change... At some point, this has to come to an end. There are no more places to explore, no more lives to put under, and no remaining hearts to be trampled. The bottom has been exposed, and the darkness revealed. The excursion to the promised land was, apparently, unappreciated. Or, more precisely, under-appreciated. The mentality achieved while under those circumstances was extraordinary. However, the potential was not realized. Lena's recent call and the resulting conversation became too existential, and I fear would result in the same no matter her proximity to me. In other words, the talk that we shared at the MGM Grand did not serve any purpose whatsoever. In fact, it may have caused more harm than good at the time. Now I realize that it doesn't matter. The Boat has drifted further away and may never return. The sadness in knowing this is true has become overwhelming, and has made me cognizant of the fact that repairs to myself are not only necessary, but very possible. My Boat of dreams has been sailed away by none other than yours truly, and it is unbelievable that I could allow this to happen. My status as a strong and supportive friend must return. This Boat is far too important to be let go, and there is far too much Love to just throw it away. I wish it there, always. The importance of the Boat cannot be measured easily. It is true of the past episodes of my loath of myself, but the energy and unrelenting optimism of the multitudes of supporters have succeeded in turning the tide to the positive. They have saved me from myself. I sincerely hope that there are no ill feelings and no contempt toward me despite the past. I am confident that the future is lighted and can be dictated by the love and understanding that I have for so long overlooked. My desire to be there for the possibility of the Boat can and will allow me to overcome my recent state. This is the decision I have made. This moment, 6:55pm on September 26th, 2003 is the end of the downtrodden, dull, pedantic, and plodding negativity that has inhabited and followed our author for weeks. There will be no more from this point forward. Today is the first day of the peaceful overcoming. It is, without any doubt in my brilliant mind, 'it'. Period. I am conscious of the fact that others may doubt this after the ups and downs of late, but time will prove the truth of light." 10/01/03 A slight change may be apparent at this time. This change is going to remain for the foreseeable future. Any requests for the format to be changed back can be addressed to the following: noonegivesashitaboutyouropinion@livewithit.com The symbolism has become paramount, and is here to stay. My opinion can, and will, supersede any other that comes along. As trying as these past few weeks have been, the outlet you see laid out before you has grown into a haven for our author beyond any dream or thought. Oh, and if anyone has a problem with the image of Dani below, you are invited to visit the rest of the Internet, and not return here. Harsh, you say? Whatever. What. Ever. Send cash and I'll consider your thoughts above the landfill level. "The nothingness of the present has invaded this markup. There can be no denying the strange feel and perpetual sadness of my separation from the desired. Gone are the fruits of knowledge, the stability of the reference, the red of loveliness, and the possibility of perfection. The ambiguity of the forefront of the journey has forever diffused my laughter and times of joy. The future of the moment has been left long unrecognized, and the Geese have flown awry. Once more has the realization of the importance of the past journeys overcome the site context, and from this point forward, it has taken over. Not clear enough? I am stuck in this Gulag of an existence, forever seeking an expiatory purification. It would seem that the End, which for a time was in sight, has been an elaborate mirage created out of the spatially defensive factions of my mind. The reality that has been so deluded of late can be defined as the ultimate resulting sense of finality from the darkest and most hidden depths of the human soul. These are the times of the stormy and dreary thought which can define life's difficulties. Any path from this point cannot be trusted beyond the limited vision of which I am now subject. A few responses from the promised land may now be more necessary than I had imagined. Any escape is a positive situation. Any. I can only hope that the answers are not as restrictive and eluding as the questions that for so long have polluted my mind. I. Am. Stuck." 10/03/03 "What a colossal waste of time this has become. Perhaps all of the others don't realize the dire situation at hand. These Goddamned times and days of the past several weeks are beginning to make me realize my value, and my destiny among a multitude of confusion. The loneliness has consumed, the darkness has engulfed, and the fog has settled on my heart and mind. I fail to understand the ultimate goal of these efforts. There is a distinct possibility that the Gods Of Emotion have created a place for me that has been preordained from the beginning. Who are any of us to argue with that which cannot be denied? How can these things be understood without the damage that brings them to light? How much pain and suffering is required before the answers are illuminated? I will say, in no uncertain terms, that the future may be of no exit. The sacred avenues of the promised land are, for certain, available to numb the painful reality within which I now float. This analysis may be ill-conceived. It may also be a means to an end. Introspective and reflective, I sit day after day and ponder and wonder of the meaning of me, and the forgone conclusion that I may not be as pivotal and important as I may have thought. Damn this condition. Damn it." 10/04/03 So, it's like this. Evidently, my writing is cause for confusion. The style in which I place my thoughts here is my own, and may not be aligned with proper forms of literature. I realize that there may be a few grammatical errors, and probably more than one person's share of misused words as well as overly long sentences, but I believe that the importance of the subject matter warrants a certain level of ambiguity in order to protect myself. I'm convinced that there are only a true handful of visitors here, and the fact of the matter is, I'm stretching it enough already. Nothing will change. "The Palace Of Excess is calling to me from afar. The idea of denying this presence, this wonder of wonders, this brilliant and shimmering light among the dark of my existence, is so far removed from my psyche, that the resulting compulsion is beginning to overtake me with uncommon swiftness. Still, despite these desires, I can feel the multitudes waving off any conceivable thought of it. If it does come to pass that my presence is requested at the highest level of the Palace, you can rest assured that our author will be in capable hands. Look for the wonderful sign of the wraith coming to a twisted web site near you, very soon. (Or, perhaps, never. We just don't know for sure. Note example below.) The fact of the matter is, the possibility must remain for the foreseeable time ahead. This may seem strange, even abnormal to a degree, but it is more necessary than can be put into words here or anywhere. The Palace stands as representative of so much escape, so much of a release from the damning reality that has materialized of late, that there can be absolutely no denying its power over the mind and body. Hard to agree, you say? Well, I have this for you... Blah, blah, blah... Fishcakes. The Gods of Chaos that have invaded and made themselves at home are creating difficulties beyond the norm. This norm is already so taxing, that if ever there was such misery and pain, it is here and now, and all but having completely won. Dani remains, in all his splendor, as the sole ambassador of this Chaos, and he is settled in nicely. I'm sorry for the fact that the multitudes disagree with his presence below. Darn, I so much wanted to conform to the wills of the masses. Not." 10/06/03 "Yet another facet of the gem that was my life has been illuminated for my view and subsequent painful regret. It is incredible, even to myself, how much has been unraveled and strewn about, and when I look at what remains, I see the thread that had woven the tapestry of my very existence. I will refrain from any further use of the galaxy of clichés that should be applied to this situation." 10/08/03 "just a reflection just a glimpse just a little reminder of all the what abouts and all the might have could have beens another day some other way but not another reason to continue and now you're one of us the wretched the hopes and prays the better days the far aways forget it" 10/17/03 "It would seem that our author (Australopithecus aethiopicus) has too long been subject to the rigors of an enlarged cranial plate combined with a considerably smaller brain structure and resulting in a condition which we will refer to as 'proto-human regression and damage syndrome'. One of the long-term effects of this condition is a propensity to spew forth wording such as the lovely phrasing we have seen here lately. For some reason, this recent condition has not subsided. The multitudes have mellowed slightly, and the implied belief is that there is too much to work with; far too much complication of the recent situation and mindset. I can understand this. Our author and anti-hero can be quite a handful, difficult in the extreme one moment, and peaceful as heaven the next. The decision of escape and hiding has yet to be fully analyzed and implemented, and the effects of such cannot be taken lightly. This is the main purpose of such a deep consideration. The promised land awaits, but the time is no longer at hand. Monday, Tuesday -- no problem, aside from the usual difficulties, both tidy and smeared, but nothing compared to the slump that follows the s****. And it has followed. Every second of that Tuesday -- every moment after its end, was in no way easy to live. The unparalleled comfort and security of that s**** cannot be measured in this life, and can by no means be forgotten. The thoughts of another similar s**** in the future will, quite literally, fuel our author's desire to move beyond the typical distilled atmosphere of late into a place of beauty. The Boat is no longer adrift, and the thought of that lovely representation of paradise being so near is enough to drive me to the limits of human comprehension. Any possibility of contact with the Boat can prolong the potential for happiness beyond my dreams. This vessel of the Mediterranean cannot float too far from my vision, it cannot moor beyond my thought, and will never sail from my memory. That Tuesday -- a day of hours, those hours made up of minutes, an subsequent seconds adding up to those hellish moments of sadness, despair, loss and uncertainty. It was those very times that routed me into a place of mental and emotional hiding. A place yearning for separation and escape from the endless difficulties that, unbeknownst to me, lay ahead. Maybe I'll make it. Maybe not." 10/18/03 The site is available for viewing for the time being. The downtime was necessary for work to be accomplished on the backend. There may be a bit more time offline toward the end of November as I am considering the ramifications of this new look. It takes considerable time to change color schemes, mainly due to the graphics. "Spoken clearly and to the point, ours is a savage environment. Technology and sustenance, climate and clothing, we are living through the essence of a truculent and toilsome existence. At times lush and operatic, it can also be overwhelmingly trying. Survival through eons of commerce and compromise can be the end of all things, or the infantile beginning. The north routes are falling victim to the inclement weather and harsh road conditions that set in early, and the Mackenzie will be out of commission for crossing for several weeks. The options are narrowing severely. Time now requires patience in the extreme. The merciful days of late have been less arduous and seem somewhat surreal in comparison to the past several weeks. The Palace is still floating nearby, making its presence impossible to ignore and enticing me every moment with its power to alleviate and reassure, as well as the feeling of belonging. This may yet overcome my senses and force me from the cradle in which I now rest. The anonymity and isolation of those floors and cavernous spaces of the Palace can be therapeutic beyond all rational thought, and to the point of euphoria. This may be difficult for others to understand, but I don't really care. Another evening spent wallowing in the cool waters of the Mediterranean. The Boat is off in the distance; not out of sight, mind you, but out of reach. The floating sense of being into which I have now plunged is serving to redefine my current level of thinking. Should the Palace become necessary, it is possible for that escape to dull the future. Far gone are the days of simplicity. Gone. The times of lightheartedness and fun. These are the uncomfortable hours of undecided feelings and downtrodden thought. The caring is diminishing, and now must be forced. Pushing for happiness can result in extreme difficulty and sadness, or the end expected." 11/03/03 "Peace, for the time being. Just the word itself is comforting. This evening was that of difficulty. A person of whom I am very fond, and also have a great respect for, was slighted in the extreme. I cannot say that I was completely able to retain my composure during this outrage, and in fact, I managed to lose my self control just a bit. She is important to me, and stands as an example of people in general. Real people, mind you, not the vermin that so easily pollute this world and skate by with ease, that are striving at every moment to better themselves and better the lives of others. True, beautiful and very feeling souls who live their lives under appreciated and even unappreciated every day of this world's existence, and it can be overly arduous to think about this." 11/22/03 The site is continuing to undergo changes -- to the positive, mind you -- and will be complete sometime this Winter. No color differences, just content direction and accessibility. It has become necessary to force the issue upward. Recent changes have taken over my mind completely, and will be reflected here, slowly. As such, the implementation may seem subtle, but the end result displayed may appear quite striking. Well see. :-) The continually rotating quotes will remain, as well as the static menu. "The season of holidays is upon us. What a lovely and special time of year. Leaves blowing; cool, crisp weather and the rush of planning occasions; these are the gatherings which can define happiness and closeness, as well as a feeling of belonging. No other time of year is capable of seeding so much joy." 12/6/03 A title and color change, yet again. This time, I believe I have struck on a scheme for all time. The graphics and text coloration are wonderful together, and the dim manner in which everything is displayed brings an atmosphere of a medieval nature. Lovely, isn't it? Also, the Timelog writings will continue very soon, as the hustle of the holidays has taken over our schedules. The 800-pixel width seems to aid in readability, don't you think? Let's keep it as such. 12/21/03 The themes that have taken up residence here over the last several months, aside from that which you are now viewing, will not return. An era driven by uncertainty and hopelessness drew those images and colors. These were the downward times of foggy thought and stepping through quicksand, which, it seemed, would not come to an end. Fortunately, the landscape has changed dramatically and has helped to save the future of the site. On a structural note, the Trailer Design section has been revamped to better reflect the direction of the index you now see. The floorplan section will be changed a bit soon, and more drawings furthering the design are to be displayed. The remainder of the content here will follow suit soon. It does take considerable time to make changes. Also, the email links are going to be spam-proofed so as to prevent my mailboxes from overfilling. Instead of clickable links, the addresses will be displayed with a <no spam> section in the middle. Simply remove the unneeded text and copy-and-paste the rest. 12/27/03 Several sections have been styled to follow with the design of the index. The images section is now operational once again, including the links to the NASA and truck sections. Also, the Spectra Cal Museum has been reworked a bit in order to function more fully. Number Nine materials and resources are currently being amassed for the site, and will take some time to completely organize before publishing. Once all is in place, however, the tribute to that pioneering company should be appropriately displayed. To 2004
Anno 2003
read ( words)
4/07/03 The Family Pictures section is now 15 pages, the first 3 of which have thumbnails so far. The images on the site are proving to be the most difficult as a result of the server bandwidth limits as well as space. I will be slowly removing unneeded and older content to free space for the more popular areas. The [Link removed.] Supertwo project also has some new pictures of recent work and a short description of my plans. There will be some changes to the ad content within these pages which may or may not prove to be favorable to all concerned. The community service ads will remain, however. The preview of a second concept caused no more than confusion and questions, and as a result will be kept out of the light in the short term. If anyone would like an explanation of the upcoming format change please let me know.
4/09/03 The countdown to Superheat has begun. Information on location and the first code will be released 4/25/03. The announcement image below will then link to a timelog with news and relevant documentation.
4/12/03 The FAQ is up and running. The page looks pretty nice, if I do say so myself. If anyone has further inquiries, just ask, and I'll add them to the page. The help section will be up next. The palette for the timelog is available for viewing and will have content on the 25th.
4/15/03 The index is now valid HTML 4.01, as well as Valid CSS. After many hours of debugging and research, the markup has been ironed out to a tee. Now, on to the rest of the site! The update archive will return soon as it is undergoing a change to follow the darker theme here. Also, a new title is in the works.
4/21/03 Let's forget the help file. There is no need for such a section if the forum is not operating. The Spectra Cal Museum is currently being streamlined and updated, and I'm looking too add some history to the content. The new title is almost complete. I'll try to have it up this Friday.
4/25/03 It has been brought to my attention that the gray link color is hard to see on some people's browsers. As a result, I have reversed the link and hover colors for clarity. The first Timelog has been published. It is very short, but serves as a tool to familiarize visitors with the format of future code for Superheat. If anyone would like help with the code, drop me a line and I'll see what I can do. Don't expect direct answers, as the idea is to make you think. Also, the update archives have been reformatted and separated by years, lest the page should become exceedingly long winded. As is obvious, the new title is up. Sharp eyes will notice it shares the date and symbolism of Superheat, and that theme will shortly creep into the entire site.
4/28/03 Animated buttons have been added below the title for ease of navigation. The interval for the Timelogs will be two weeks. With the first code being published on the 25th of this month, I will mark the date of the next code on 5/09/03.
5/09/03 Most of the work this week has been on the backend, securing the directories and working out some newer scripts. The second Timelog is available for interpretation, and, based on the popularity of these writings, I may post some essays that I have completed in the past. For review, of course. The Superheat image toward the bottom of the index has been removed to further speed the load time of the page; the inverted image above the Timelog will remain. As of this writing I have received no negative comments about the look of the site. As a result, the theme is here to stay, including the rotating quote below.
5/14/03 The Superheat Timelogs have been combined for clarity.
7/18/03 As is obvious already, the core of the site is public once again. There will be no update in the short term, as the backend scripting needs some troubleshooting here on the index. The Timelogs will continue as soon as possible. The title image has been replaced temporarily until the Wraith image can be made more acceptable. I have received some negative feedback on the ad content produced by me. Unfortunately, this will not change as the greater good must be served.
"I sit here with my Appletini and television wondering what the Boat must feel like -- swaying gently under the awesome power of the Mediterranean, the breeze tickling the enormous sails above, the crew scurrying to secure comforts for the fortunate that are aboard -- to be sitting in the comfort of the aft salon unconcerned about the 104 degree heat in Pleasanton, California, or the traffic that is doubtless on 580 right now flowing like molasses in January. Sometimes the thought is overwhelming, and can contribute to the futility of a day without the distraction of work. It can be difficult to decide the lesser of two punishments."
7/19/03 The third Timelog is available for review.
"I can envision the Boat under sail, cutting the sea with ease...
And almost feel the wind."
7/21/03 The title image is midway in its rework, and should be back up by close of business Thursday.
"The clock just keeps spinning, no matter the hell of the day's events, no matter the difficulty or heat of debate. Spinning, out of control. Another Appletini afternoon. This brings on a thought -- who could be comfortable in eleven-thousand square feet of space? A home with more wet bars than bedrooms? Who could conceive of such a thing? Well, probably the same intuitive thinker that graced the world with blue water sailing yachts."
7/28/03 The Webmaster info section has returned for no good reason other than to display a picture of yours truly. A link has been added to the static menu as well.
"Sitting among the muddy, middle-fork of the Stanislaus, the water motion reminds me of the repetitiveness of the spinning clock hands -- endlessly flowing over the rocks and licking away the shores, paying no attention to the unrelenting difficulties and trials piled upon individual shoulders. The sounds of the rushing, milky-brown river cannot begin to untie so many knots, which have been tied again and again, in the ropes of the mind."
8/03/03 There is no latest. I don't believe there can ever be a solid purpose here.
"The Skyy has been flowing like a river. A few acquaintances, a few drinks. Some pleasant conversation and some odd glances. Couple twenty-two years of memories and regrets, and a few choice hours of being alone. Mix well and throw in a dash of depression and the resulting cocktail becomes a weekend in hell."
8/10/03
"So there I was... One moment free to do as I please, and the next, four sets of electronically locked doors between me and the outside world. Only the second floor, mind you, there was no fear of anything worse -- like the fellow upstairs that decided it was time to leave through the window. I watched them repair it swiftly so as to not alter too much the appearance of that lovely hotel. Plenty of time. Nothing but time. Boring. No more Skyy... 'You should try and focus yourself on repairing that which has been so badly taken apart', she told me. I felt like nothing more than a fractured window blemishing the facade of the illusion."
8/12/03 Great news! I can still hear, according to NASA. Oh, and the quote continues to rotate, if anyone is listening. Also, there is a link to the lyrics page on the static menu to the left. If you can't access or see the menu, upgrade something. My ramblings will continue indefinitely.
'I remember the King And his Queen -- I shall never forget No finer woman ever lay before me Dark, and filled with beauty All it took was one lonely kiss Her lips, swollen and red Smothered all over me I felt faint and without control And with great thirst, I drank deeply.'
8/15/03
"Thinking about the Boat as usual. There are things in this world from which there can be no abstinence, as the splendor of the Mediterranean will prove. The Boat will dictate its own required lifestyle, and any distraction or loss of attention can be cause for immediate expulsion from that which can only be termed as paradise. (We'll get into that definition later.) Such a commanding presence in any sea, as well as the world, will not in any way be viewed as trivial or anything other than with respect. The Boat is not to be taken lightly nor will it be sufficient to merely call it special. Context is critical, and moreover, undeniably a matter of class. These things I write can never be so important as the genuine article, forever floating just beyond my wildest dreams. The term 'paradise' is only in the mind. Without a consciousness to realize what can be experienced, it becomes nothing more than another place to be viewed from afar."
8/28/03 That last update may have been a bit convoluted. Needless to say, I have no explanation. Let's just move along, shall we?
"The heat, the dust, and the distilled sense of awareness. The Boat was nowhere in sight. Lack of creature comforts, and too much opportunity for personal thought created an almost surreal atmosphere of sorrow and indignity (not to mention the audacity of sipping a classic from a plastic cup. Plastic of all things!). The extreme difficulty of placing the mind beyond anything within view, beyond any presence of company, and linking that mind with the awesome spectacle that is the Boat, had brought a moment's escape, no matter the cost to the weekend. Little did I know, the Boat was closer than thought possible. Later, during an actual glimpse of that presence of Beauty, I was transported far from the heated and restrictive environment to a place of utter happiness and contentment. Not long, mind you, but enough. What an incredible sight."
9/2/03
"There is a Grey Goose in the Skyy, and it hath landed in the conscious mind of the damaged soul. Tomorrow's celebration is a subject for protracted discussion. Today, being a huge decision day, is difficult to get past at this point. Maybe it's time to throw in a few choice words from the newest copy of 'The Dictionary of Choice Terms Driven by a Distinct Surplus of Stupidity' made famous by one of the great loves of my life... 'all pain disappears it's the nature of my circuitry drowns out all i hear there's no escape from this my new consciousness the me that you know used to have feelings but the blood has stopped pumping and he is left to decay the me that you know is now made up of wires and even when i'm right with you i'm so far away i can try to get away -- but i've strapped myself in i can try to scratch away the sound in my ears i can see it killing away all of my bad parts i don't want to listen but it's all to clear' Well now, that sums it up nicely. After another weekend lost in a daze of vodka and heat and friends undeserving of the mass of detritus spewing forth from my convoluted mind, we arrive at the future of the moment. The Boat has apparently run aground into a painful and considerably worse place than the Mediterranean, no less caused by yours truly. This has come as no surprise, mind you, just another couple of lives racked up on the hash marks of my gunstock of mistakes (I believe we're up to four total now). How many more are we sparing in the future thanks to the celebration?? How many more could suffer at the hands of our author? Any answer would be mere speculation, naturally, and would serve only to confound the minds and hearts of tomorrow as to the purpose of such a unique destroyer. I believe that the time for updates has come to a close. Perhaps the future will brighten after a few drinks in Vegas. See you down the road of the unknown."
9/11/03 In remembrance...
9/12/03 Is anyone finding the site a bit dark and depressing? Live with it, and remember, there are a billion other pages you could be viewing right now instead. This site will continue to be in symbolic flux for the foreseeable future. The various items that appear and disappear according to my daily whims are extremely important to the fluidity of the content. When I say self-serving, I mean it. Also, the updates do not seem to draw any eyes once they leave the index (you didn't know that I spent all my precious time archiving for continuity?), so I may discontinue those sections. Perhaps if I had received some feedback or even so much as a single comment on any aspect of the content here, I would feel motivated enough to make nice with the wording. In short, forget it. It really is too bad no one wants to read any of this. Believe it or not, there is a bit of thought and effort displayed here. I am overwhelmingly compelled to continue, though. So be it. I have decided to change the color of the update text to create contrast between it and the sections in which I am speaking.
"Savior Sphinx of the pyramid will be missed. Sometimes the most effective repair of a problem is to afford more damage in order to serve a facade of the original breakage. Full of lobster and salad (and maybe some Goose), I took off for the MGM Grand's Studio Cafe at 11:00pm. It's a hell of a walk from the pyramid, only half a block, but it takes a tremendous amount of time to negotiate. With eyes on me everywhere, I trotted to the best of my ability over escalators and along sidewalks feeling like dropping into traffic at every step. It was very warm, still over eighty degrees, and quite windy, making it tough to sail along the large bridges between the Excalibur and Tropicana. The wind made my hair into what looked to be some sort of half-assed bird's nest from another planet. This did not help my present state of mind, as I was already apprehensive enough about meeting Lena at all. For whatever reason -- maybe my own small sense of self-preservation -- I had hoped she would bring some comfort into my blurry, excessive weekend. I suppose the bar at the Steakhouse probably would have been a better choice of venue for an evening conversation, but the fact that she was employed by the Mandalay Resort Group conveniently removed four of our choices for locale. Apparently, there had been a recent memo dictating some guidelines for contact with casino patrons beyond the normal chit chat. It was for this simple reason that she recommended the MGM. The cafe was busy, as I'm sure it was most nights, being the only food available during the late hours. I arrived after only a 28-minute journey to find Lena nowhere in sight, so I decided to make myself scarce to the viewing public in the casino. She arrived a few minutes later sporting some kind of spandex dress that immediately sent me into hiding (mentally, of course) and forced me to continually check my own appearance for fear of not being dressed for the Grand atmosphere. This can be exceedingly taxing over the course of a meal and drinks. Fortunately, I had enough insight to request a booth in the corner. A curved, high-backed booth overlooking the casino floor, elevated slightly above the heads of the other guests, made me somewhat more comfortable for the moment. Soon enough, though (and as usual), my comfort level dropped significantly far to drive me from Lena and the cafe, stepping with a purpose the entire distance back to my home on the 26th floor. After a brief fight with anxiety, I was able to relax and drop into sleep. She understood, being a degreed student of the psyche already, and also with a bit of conversation with me at the Pyramid, that I could not stay any longer with what felt like a million pairs of probing eyes taking me apart. It seems that the journey from the MGM back to the Pyramid felt so far because I was consumed by the illusion of so much ridicule and laughter following every step. This reminds me of lunch Saturday at the Palm inside the Forum Shops at Caesar's Palace. The request for a booth sometimes seems to baffle the hostess (no male hosts in Vegas!) which immediately forces me into a place of wondering why I must appear so odd. Is it odd? How many people are more comfortable sinking into the closure and privacy of a high-back sofa, as opposed to being perched on an open-back chair in the middle of the room, possibly the occupant of a pathway through the dining room? Is it really that much of a stretch of the norm to think of such? Now, I realize that most diners are thinking of their companions as well as the meal, menu choices, drinks, etc., and not so much the location of the seating. Possibly the most common thought might be, 'we would like to sit somewhere fairly distant from the noisy kitchen', and this is understandable. No one likes the clanking, imposing sounds of the dishes when they are dining in a well-respected and well-known establishment where an average lunch outing might run in the neighborhood of $100 for two. This entire discussion is based on my interpretation of one word: atmosphere. Some don't particularly pay mind to the concept of eating a meal in any specific type of atmosphere. A person with some variety of social anxiety, however, might be considerably more concerned with this. In the eyes and mind of the average restaurant patron, or the typical person for that matter, this thought process may not be so easily understood. The discomfort associated with a room full of people can be overwhelming and even cause a withdrawal of disturbing proportions. Perhaps we should cut it off right here. To be continued soon. Remember, there is an exit."
9/14/03 This next paragraph is brought to you by our sponsors, an ethereal combination of my heart and Grey Goose l'Orange.
"I cannot last much longer. It is getting more and more difficult to put up this appearance of everything being all right and showing that I have hope. My heart and mind are in such turmoil that any possible escape is like a heavenly dream. The hellish place from which I must emerge can only be described as an emotional purgatory. I wish I had the comfort of the Boat. That would surely be enough, but such likelihood is beyond even the odds in Vegas."
9/15/03 I have received a request to continue the Timelog series of Superheat. Had this request come from anyone other than a VIP, I might not be so willing to comply. However, and I can say this in all honesty, the stories will continue to unfold just as soon as I have my mind firing on all cylinders again. In the meantime, these updates are about all I can crank out.
"The winds of change are nearing as I write. Unfortunately, winds usually accompany a storm. The disrupted cacophony of thought that has traveled from beyond the blackness to settle in the conscious mind of our author is presently in a battle for control. No matter the Geese in the Skyy, no matter the lessons born from a journey to the Pyramid, this battle will be won by one side or the other. There is no good or bad inherent, only the effects of the past hells revisited on a daily basis. From a greater distance than can be imagined, this storm will arrive in its own time, and with it will doubtless be questions within questions, and the pain of not knowing the most perplexing of all, the 'why'. The most elementary statement in all of science, the very beginning of wisdom is, 'I do not know'. The truth is perched wholly on this: I do not know what will happen next. Not even the mighty Shield of Possibility can protect such an unknown situation."
9/15/03 ...more
"I can feel the Boat is near. What a thought. So close and yet still beyond my dreams. Perhaps, in the future of the unknown, a perfect moment -- a splendorous time, a beautiful place. These are the desires that know of no boundaries, no constraints, no limits. The vastness of time and space brought to their knees by the possibility of love. A want and need beyond dimension, destiny and comprehension. The Boat is not something to be considered in passing, nor is it available for the typical, plodding and pedantic fare that inhabits this spinning globe. There is an enormous amount of consideration and respect involved when referring to something so lovely and unappreciated. There can be no escape from the inevitable. There cannot be any abstinence from the overwhelming power of that which I see in my mind as happiness. This may seem ambiguous at best, but there is a soul to this Boat, and it is connected to me in a way not easy to define. My every thought and every waking moment is focused on the possibility of a future on this craft, and a future of the happiness of which it is so deserving. The Boat is a representative of the very definition of beauty. It has my utmost understanding, caring, and the deepest of love. I sincerely hope for the future of a paradise."
9/16/03 As is obvious, the Obsidian Wraith title has returned. This will remain until a more appropriate title image can be generated.
"A good day in the realm of the Orange Geese. As the tides of life influence the destinies of all of us -- or, more correctly, attempt to do so -- the path clears further into the future of paradise. Perhaps, gods be willing, my own future will merge with the tremendous beauty and power of the Mediterranean Sea, and that symbol of love and awareness, the Boat. I cannot imagine a higher level of being." And now, without further delay, the Wraith presents the first installment of: 'The Orange Goose Flies Over The Boat'
"We join the story in progress, after a long sail from Lake St. Clair, two lovely fall days in New York, and a dramatic exit into the sprawling Atlantic. The vessel is capable of so many quiet, smooth and fulfilling miles of water when under sail that it can become difficult to put in to port and leave the splendor of the ocean -- especially when fuel is of no concern. But, and this is mostly from a standpoint of survival, we do need to keep the yacht filled with consumables and the staples of a long voyage. This way, while lounging on the aft deck, we can enjoy something cold while gliding along the isles of Italy without interruption.
Whenever it was that we left New York, the weather was quite pleasant for November. The cold air kept the pace of the deckhands brisk and the mainsail taught, while deep below preparations were already underway for a dinner in the formal. Very soon the clink of crystal will be heard echoing throughout the wood-paneled hallways of one of the largest blue water sailing yachts ever to cruise the open sea."
9/18/03
'The Orange Goose Flies Over The Boat' Part Two
"Dinner was fabulous as usual. The staff impeccable and the atmosphere could not possibly be more beautiful and " comforting. The aft deck is lovely in the evening, especially with the city lights reflecting off the water and the breeze gently waving the canopy over our heads. Dining after dark should be a requirement in the Mediterranean Sea. The remainder of the night would be spent in the main salon with a movie and drinks. Such a large room, the salon, but all the more cozy thanks to candles and the warmth of the fire.
The morning welcomed us with the sounds of birds singing from the mainmast and a delivery of coffee and croissants to the master stateroom. The business of the day would be a priority, and recreation had been put in the background for the time being. As much as the Boat represents the ultimate in relaxation and serenity, some matters must be put in front in order to serve the future of the lifestyle.
This particular morning's affairs were to be financial in nature, and would require a little jaunt across the bay to Monaco, and from there a short train ride into France. The cruise from the yacht to the shore was always fun, and was usually made by way of the tender. Being as expansive as it was, the yacht always conveyed an air of solidity and stability, and as a result, the contrast between it and the smaller craft was striking. At just over 44 feet, the tender was a bit cramped for anything more than a ride of a few hours."
9/22/03
"Closer. Closer to a new beginning, closer to an end. Closer to an understanding, closer to the lower limits of knowledge. Closer to Paradise, closer to never knowing of a paradise. Closer to two real friends, closer to pushing too far, too much, too fast. Closer to some kind of breakthrough, closer to some kind of breakdown. Closer to freedom from pain, closer to freedom through pain. Closer to knowing the serenity of the Boat, closer to losing that precious Boat forever. Closer to a separation from guilt, closer to a separation from myself. Closer to distilling the fear of everyday, closer to fearing the distilled sense of awareness. Closer to a sense of reality, closer to not wanting any reality. Closer to returning to the norm, closer to being destroyed by the hypocrisy of the norm. Closer to me, closer to no one like me. Closer to resembling a person, closer to a person with no resemblance at all. Closer to rising above the bottom, closer to knowing nothing but the bottom. Closer to the taxing heat of society, closer to the drowning cold which knows of no society. Closer to leaving the prying eyes that feed the paranoia, closer to the crippling reality that is me. Closer, forever closer, to living within the spiraling, disjointed and endless conundrum that is myself. Just me, nothing but me. Closer to me." 'The Orange Goose Flies Over The Boat' Part Three
"Elizabeth always provided comfort and security, especially when venturing into a new port of call for the day. " Despite the lack of roominess in the salon, there was still ample space for conversation and even an agreeable lunch. With a trip of only a few miles into the harbor, she has served us well.
The intention to board the train in Monte Carlo had been brought to a halt, and the journey into France would then require a visit to the heliport in Fontvielle, and from there a short flight over to Marseille for lunch with a few friends with charter connections. The chartering of the yacht over the Winter months was to facilitate a little cash flow for the next spring and summer's activities in the US and Canada."
9/24/03
"The morning sun is shining, the storm has passed, and the hidden values of life and love are overtaking the din of the mess and the tragic events of late. All of these things that I have carried through the Black Voyage will be shed and are no longer burdening the walk, no matter the path. After longing and wanting and needing, the face has turned itself away from me, and cannot further demand my attention, my obedience, nor my strength of heart. After finally understanding the nature and power of destiny, I can now patiently stand and wait for my fate to unfold as it will, guiding when and where I am able.
The past is like a cloaked figure, following behind at every step, and for all time. This figure is capable of bringing itself to the forefront of one's mind and conditioning said mind into any state with which it can corrupt or enhance, and as a result, can be the driving force behind actions to satiate desires both subtle and striking. These are the creations of a mind at the hands of a charge which has the capability of destroying lives beyond comprehension, or, with the utmost contrast, developing love and beauty of staggering proportions. For myself, I prefer the latter, and that which I describe as the ultimate definition of happiness -- the Boat. I can only hope and dream that this will pass. And I do..."
9/26/03 and beyond
"The more things change... At some point, this has to come to an end. There are no more places to explore, no more lives to put under, and no remaining hearts to be trampled. The bottom has been exposed, and the darkness revealed. The excursion to the promised land was, apparently, unappreciated. Or, more precisely, under-appreciated. The mentality achieved while under those circumstances was extraordinary. However, the potential was not realized. Lena's recent call and the resulting conversation became too existential, and I fear would result in the same no matter her proximity to me. In other words, the talk that we shared at the MGM Grand did not serve any purpose whatsoever. In fact, it may have caused more harm than good at the time. Now I realize that it doesn't matter. The Boat has drifted further away and may never return. The sadness in knowing this is true has become overwhelming, and has made me cognizant of the fact that repairs to myself are not only necessary, but very possible. My Boat of dreams has been sailed away by none other than yours truly, and it is unbelievable that I could allow this to happen. My status as a strong and supportive friend must return. This Boat is far too important to be let go, and there is far too much Love to just throw it away. I wish it there, always. The importance of the Boat cannot be measured easily. It is true of the past episodes of my loath of myself, but the energy and unrelenting optimism of the multitudes of supporters have succeeded in turning the tide to the positive. They have saved me from myself. I sincerely hope that there are no ill feelings and no contempt toward me despite the past. I am confident that the future is lighted and can be dictated by the love and understanding that I have for so long overlooked. My desire to be there for the possibility of the Boat can and will allow me to overcome my recent state. This is the decision I have made. This moment, 6:55pm on September 26th, 2003 is the end of the downtrodden, dull, pedantic, and plodding negativity that has inhabited and followed our author for weeks. There will be no more from this point forward. Today is the first day of the peaceful overcoming. It is, without any doubt in my brilliant mind, 'it'. Period. I am conscious of the fact that others may doubt this after the ups and downs of late, but time will prove the truth of light."
10/01/03 A slight change may be apparent at this time. This change is going to remain for the foreseeable future. Any requests for the format to be changed back can be addressed to the following: noonegivesashitaboutyouropinion@livewithit.com The symbolism has become paramount, and is here to stay. My opinion can, and will, supersede any other that comes along. As trying as these past few weeks have been, the outlet you see laid out before you has grown into a haven for our author beyond any dream or thought. Oh, and if anyone has a problem with the image of Dani below, you are invited to visit the rest of the Internet, and not return here. Harsh, you say? Whatever. What. Ever. Send cash and I'll consider your thoughts above the landfill level.
"The nothingness of the present has invaded this markup. There can be no denying the strange feel and perpetual sadness of my separation from the desired. Gone are the fruits of knowledge, the stability of the reference, the red of loveliness, and the possibility of perfection. The ambiguity of the forefront of the journey has forever diffused my laughter and times of joy. The future of the moment has been left long unrecognized, and the Geese have flown awry. Once more has the realization of the importance of the past journeys overcome the site context, and from this point forward, it has taken over. Not clear enough? I am stuck in this Gulag of an existence, forever seeking an expiatory purification. It would seem that the End, which for a time was in sight, has been an elaborate mirage created out of the spatially defensive factions of my mind. The reality that has been so deluded of late can be defined as the ultimate resulting sense of finality from the darkest and most hidden depths of the human soul. These are the times of the stormy and dreary thought which can define life's difficulties. Any path from this point cannot be trusted beyond the limited vision of which I am now subject. A few responses from the promised land may now be more necessary than I had imagined. Any escape is a positive situation. Any. I can only hope that the answers are not as restrictive and eluding as the questions that for so long have polluted my mind. I. Am. Stuck."
10/03/03
"What a colossal waste of time this has become. Perhaps all of the others don't realize the dire situation at hand. These Goddamned times and days of the past several weeks are beginning to make me realize my value, and my destiny among a multitude of confusion. The loneliness has consumed, the darkness has engulfed, and the fog has settled on my heart and mind. I fail to understand the ultimate goal of these efforts. There is a distinct possibility that the Gods Of Emotion have created a place for me that has been preordained from the beginning. Who are any of us to argue with that which cannot be denied? How can these things be understood without the damage that brings them to light? How much pain and suffering is required before the answers are illuminated? I will say, in no uncertain terms, that the future may be of no exit. The sacred avenues of the promised land are, for certain, available to numb the painful reality within which I now float. This analysis may be ill-conceived. It may also be a means to an end. Introspective and reflective, I sit day after day and ponder and wonder of the meaning of me, and the forgone conclusion that I may not be as pivotal and important as I may have thought. Damn this condition. Damn it."
10/04/03 So, it's like this. Evidently, my writing is cause for confusion. The style in which I place my thoughts here is my own, and may not be aligned with proper forms of literature. I realize that there may be a few grammatical errors, and probably more than one person's share of misused words as well as overly long sentences, but I believe that the importance of the subject matter warrants a certain level of ambiguity in order to protect myself. I'm convinced that there are only a true handful of visitors here, and the fact of the matter is, I'm stretching it enough already. Nothing will change.
"The Palace Of Excess is calling to me from afar. The idea of denying this presence, this wonder of wonders, this brilliant and shimmering light among the dark of my existence, is so far removed from my psyche, that the resulting compulsion is beginning to overtake me with uncommon swiftness. Still, despite these desires, I can feel the multitudes waving off any conceivable thought of it. If it does come to pass that my presence is requested at the highest level of the Palace, you can rest assured that our author will be in capable hands. Look for the wonderful sign of the wraith coming to a twisted web site near you, very soon. (Or, perhaps, never. We just don't know for sure. Note example below.) The fact of the matter is, the possibility must remain for the foreseeable time ahead. This may seem strange, even abnormal to a degree, but it is more necessary than can be put into words here or anywhere. The Palace stands as representative of so much escape, so much of a release from the damning reality that has materialized of late, that there can be absolutely no denying its power over the mind and body. Hard to agree, you say? Well, I have this for you... Blah, blah, blah... Fishcakes.
The Gods of Chaos that have invaded and made themselves at home are creating difficulties beyond the norm. This norm is already so taxing, that if ever there was such misery and pain, it is here and now, and all but having completely won. Dani remains, in all his splendor, as the sole ambassador of this Chaos, and he is settled in nicely. I'm sorry for the fact that the multitudes disagree with his presence below. Darn, I so much wanted to conform to the wills of the masses. Not."
10/06/03
"Yet another facet of the gem that was my life has been illuminated for my view and subsequent painful regret. It is incredible, even to myself, how much has been unraveled and strewn about, and when I look at what remains, I see the thread that had woven the tapestry of my very existence. I will refrain from any further use of the galaxy of clichés that should be applied to this situation."
10/08/03
"just a reflection just a glimpse just a little reminder of all the what abouts and all the might have could have beens another day some other way but not another reason to continue and now you're one of us the wretched the hopes and prays the better days the far aways forget it"
10/17/03
"It would seem that our author (Australopithecus aethiopicus) has too long been subject to the rigors of an enlarged cranial plate combined with a considerably smaller brain structure and resulting in a condition which we will refer to as 'proto-human regression and damage syndrome'. One of the long-term effects of this condition is a propensity to spew forth wording such as the lovely phrasing we have seen here lately. For some reason, this recent condition has not subsided. The multitudes have mellowed slightly, and the implied belief is that there is too much to work with; far too much complication of the recent situation and mindset. I can understand this. Our author and anti-hero can be quite a handful, difficult in the extreme one moment, and peaceful as heaven the next. The decision of escape and hiding has yet to be fully analyzed and implemented, and the effects of such cannot be taken lightly. This is the main purpose of such a deep consideration. The promised land awaits, but the time is no longer at hand. Monday, Tuesday -- no problem, aside from the usual difficulties, both tidy and smeared, but nothing compared to the slump that follows the s****. And it has followed. Every second of that Tuesday -- every moment after its end, was in no way easy to live. The unparalleled comfort and security of that s**** cannot be measured in this life, and can by no means be forgotten. The thoughts of another similar s**** in the future will, quite literally, fuel our author's desire to move beyond the typical distilled atmosphere of late into a place of beauty. The Boat is no longer adrift, and the thought of that lovely representation of paradise being so near is enough to drive me to the limits of human comprehension. Any possibility of contact with the Boat can prolong the potential for happiness beyond my dreams. This vessel of the Mediterranean cannot float too far from my vision, it cannot moor beyond my thought, and will never sail from my memory. That Tuesday -- a day of hours, those hours made up of minutes, an subsequent seconds adding up to those hellish moments of sadness, despair, loss and uncertainty. It was those very times that routed me into a place of mental and emotional hiding. A place yearning for separation and escape from the endless difficulties that, unbeknownst to me, lay ahead. Maybe I'll make it. Maybe not."
10/18/03 The site is available for viewing for the time being. The downtime was necessary for work to be accomplished on the backend. There may be a bit more time offline toward the end of November as I am considering the ramifications of this new look. It takes considerable time to change color schemes, mainly due to the graphics.
"Spoken clearly and to the point, ours is a savage environment. Technology and sustenance, climate and clothing, we are living through the essence of a truculent and toilsome existence. At times lush and operatic, it can also be overwhelmingly trying. Survival through eons of commerce and compromise can be the end of all things, or the infantile beginning. The north routes are falling victim to the inclement weather and harsh road conditions that set in early, and the Mackenzie will be out of commission for crossing for several weeks. The options are narrowing severely. Time now requires patience in the extreme.
The merciful days of late have been less arduous and seem somewhat surreal in comparison to the past several weeks. The Palace is still floating nearby, making its presence impossible to ignore and enticing me every moment with its power to alleviate and reassure, as well as the feeling of belonging. This may yet overcome my senses and force me from the cradle in which I now rest. The anonymity and isolation of those floors and cavernous spaces of the Palace can be therapeutic beyond all rational thought, and to the point of euphoria. This may be difficult for others to understand, but I don't really care. Another evening spent wallowing in the cool waters of the Mediterranean. The Boat is off in the distance; not out of sight, mind you, but out of reach. The floating sense of being into which I have now plunged is serving to redefine my current level of thinking. Should the Palace become necessary, it is possible for that escape to dull the future. Far gone are the days of simplicity. Gone. The times of lightheartedness and fun. These are the uncomfortable hours of undecided feelings and downtrodden thought. The caring is diminishing, and now must be forced. Pushing for happiness can result in extreme difficulty and sadness, or the end expected."
11/03/03
"Peace, for the time being. Just the word itself is comforting. This evening was that of difficulty. A person of whom I am very fond, and also have a great respect for, was slighted in the extreme. I cannot say that I was completely able to retain my composure during this outrage, and in fact, I managed to lose my self control just a bit. She is important to me, and stands as an example of people in general. Real people, mind you, not the vermin that so easily pollute this world and skate by with ease, that are striving at every moment to better themselves and better the lives of others. True, beautiful and very feeling souls who live their lives under appreciated and even unappreciated every day of this world's existence, and it can be overly arduous to think about this."
11/22/03 The site is continuing to undergo changes -- to the positive, mind you -- and will be complete sometime this Winter. No color differences, just content direction and accessibility. It has become necessary to force the issue upward. Recent changes have taken over my mind completely, and will be reflected here, slowly. As such, the implementation may seem subtle, but the end result displayed may appear quite striking. Well see. :-) The continually rotating quotes will remain, as well as the static menu.
"The season of holidays is upon us. What a lovely and special time of year. Leaves blowing; cool, crisp weather and the rush of planning occasions; these are the gatherings which can define happiness and closeness, as well as a feeling of belonging. No other time of year is capable of seeding so much joy."
12/6/03 A title and color change, yet again. This time, I believe I have struck on a scheme for all time. The graphics and text coloration are wonderful together, and the dim manner in which everything is displayed brings an atmosphere of a medieval nature. Lovely, isn't it? Also, the Timelog writings will continue very soon, as the hustle of the holidays has taken over our schedules. The 800-pixel width seems to aid in readability, don't you think? Let's keep it as such.
12/21/03 The themes that have taken up residence here over the last several months, aside from that which you are now viewing, will not return. An era driven by uncertainty and hopelessness drew those images and colors. These were the downward times of foggy thought and stepping through quicksand, which, it seemed, would not come to an end. Fortunately, the landscape has changed dramatically and has helped to save the future of the site. On a structural note, the Trailer Design section has been revamped to better reflect the direction of the index you now see. The floorplan section will be changed a bit soon, and more drawings furthering the design are to be displayed. The remainder of the content here will follow suit soon. It does take considerable time to make changes. Also, the email links are going to be spam-proofed so as to prevent my mailboxes from overfilling. Instead of clickable links, the addresses will be displayed with a <no spam> section in the middle. Simply remove the unneeded text and copy-and-paste the rest.
12/27/03 Several sections have been styled to follow with the design of the index. The images section is now operational once again, including the links to the NASA and truck sections. Also, the Spectra Cal Museum has been reworked a bit in order to function more fully. Number Nine materials and resources are currently being amassed for the site, and will take some time to completely organize before publishing. Once all is in place, however, the tribute to that pioneering company should be appropriately displayed.
To 2004
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