Anno 2014

 read ( words)

[09/23/2014 19:45 pdt]

We recently migrated the site across the country yet again... Back to the old stomping ground. After months of dealing with web hosts changing hands and the difficulties which accompany such, the decision came from on high to simplify and get things where they should be (or should have been all along).

The change has energized the staff and helped all of us to better weather the small difficulties inherent in each day. The backend has always been the tough nut to crack. Renewed drive means that nut will lose.

Please be patient as some areas are still awaiting a bit of smoothing, and the 'galleries' main page remains nonexistent.

We do realize the long delays between writings can cause our readers to seek interest elsewhere, but honestly there is seldom anything to relay or say. The issue is the Internet itself, believe it or not. Since our inception so many years ago (12 now, to be exact), the Internet has flourished to say the least. Every conceivable business type has a presence and the social aspect has spidered into frightening proportions. Even as the current state of technology reaches crisis level, people are enjoying the connectedness and availability of instant information. No sooner does a fly land on a pile of horseshit, there are photos and lists of comments worldwide. The entire situation is ridiculous. These late days have seen electronic-social explosion to the nth degree, and that is not an exaggeration. Words we have employed above such as 'crisis' and 'frightening' seem harsh but the simple fact is we have not noticed (at least, not many of us have) the extent of how truly disconnected we have become.


One amusing comparison is social media to the ever-expanding advertising presence. We say amusing because not many years ago when ads began to creep into small on-screen-graphics, corners of hallways in stadiums and the jackets of sports figures, many commented that marketing and advertising were becoming too prevalent. Now, however, ads both on and offline seem insignificant when compared to the onslaught of user-commenting and information distribution. Social media has eclipsed all other forms of communication, both personal and professional. Scary proportions. Fucking scary. Where will we go? Will we end up in a better place? Hell no. Just no. One staff member here recently recalled a conversation with a gentleman at a local watering hole. The man was commenting on the few other patrons and their demeanor while having a drink. All were staring at their phones or other devices and the bar was very quiet. He stated that while quiet is nice -- especially during the day -- he rarely spoke to others in a casual manner as many did in years passed. He recalled making small talk with whomever was near, and the simplicity of striking up a discussion about anything. The point he was attempting to illustrate became clear very quickly: despite the instant electronic connection to anything and everything in this world, the disconnection from others has never been so stark. The resulting issue is very difficult to identify because many people simply do not see it. They are too busy keeping the giant machine churning.

Society has become a DVD.

Disruptive technology

"The entire situation is unacceptable. We used to employ the phrase 'spiral out' quite often. Now, it seems, nothing can disrupt in the direction needed. Just a DVD."

[10/04/2014 18:28 pdt]

The site continues to see fresh streamlining and additions. Many sections will remain in disarray until the staff gets collective heads out of collective asses. Migrating back to NS has been smooth and satisfying.

The Clodmaster has remained idle for the last several weeks but the changes since Winter have pushed the mechanicals far enough to keep the project fresh, still. Parts and plans sit at our side and await furthering and that time approaches quickly.

Autosound is complete, Laserdisc Legacy is complete, and other sections have grown. This indicates that forward progress has and continues to be made by the staff. Right now, time is the only restriction. It is also the only aspect which is unending. Very good.

Network Solutions logo

"The power of nothingness within the markup. We sit and dream... But nothing becomes real. We sit and ponder... But nothing becomes clear. We sit and plan... But nothing becomes possible. These late days are as the near past. They are dank and damp. The story of Chrystal comes to mind -- her downfall, her depression, her defeated spirit -- all among the cold and wet surroundings. Here the weather is near acceptable at times, and the outside loves to come inside. Right now, this morning, the outside beckons and wins. The cool is welcomed, as always. We need it. We have gone from the top to the bottom and the latter continues to drop. We know not which direction is possible.

We may need to flip a switch. Right. Now.

The last switch turned south quickly, so something to the north would be better. Hmm... The north. Yes, it still calls. The north has power... Undeniable power which others question. The north is unquestionable in its wisdom, comfort and isolation. Others question... Identify problems... Bitch constantly about the state of society... Yet they remain blissfully cogged within the teeth of the damaging machine. We do not understand this at all. We never will, and the joy of knowing that the masses will stay put has become part of the drive to separate, and that separation is stark. The contrast of this world is fantastic, wondrous, and enthralling.

Twelve years of preparation yet still we remain embedded, entwined, enmeshed. Twelve years of markup, as well. Things should have changed long ago. There are many reasons why we are still here, yet the genesis of the issue is us. We simply failed to take steps. At times those steps and changes can mean sacrifice, and in the past our author went on at length about the comfort of staying within the high technology of the familiar. This certainly can feel safe and secure (though it is by no means such) and afford the ability to study and relax. As that familiar comfort winds its way into the psyche, the desire for material things begins to grow. Material things can be very nice. The downside (and it is a big one) is that every single piece of gold sent in those directions is one less enabling chip toward the steps away. Now, and for just these reasons, the steps have become very difficult and we are no longer in a position to take them easily. So sad, yet WE did it.

Denial is nonexistent.

The glaring fact is that the more time that passes and the more steps we take the more we are forced into dramatic and insensitive changes. These changes will doubtless cause others discomfort but they are necessary for life to continue in some form. We cannot remain formless. That state has already swallowed decades with no remorse. Formlessness will continue to do so until the moment is realized."


[10/12/2014 10:38 pdt]

Of our four previous site efforts, the only contender for W3C validation was Obsidian Wraith. The process for receiving a valid mark was extensive and exhausting. Now, and thanks to MS's lovely software (and updates), as the code is written and pages built, the validation is questioned. Errors and warnings are displayed almost immediately and listed in a little table within the editor. We adore the process and the table. The software makes site maintenance fairly straightforward. This is the primary reason for things becoming so smooth with respect to page symmetry.

Now, a few of us on the staff realize that several recent updates to the index may appear to be one of two things. First and foremost would be advertising for MS. This simply is not true and cannot happen within a site with our type of purpose. Advertising will not be prevalent here until the vBulletin rollout this Winter. The second possibility is our boss kissing Microsoft's ass, and that is most unlikely. As much as he may appreciate the software and subsequent ease of creation and editing, this cannot be true. The company's past history of EEE is simply too much to dismiss. Yes, they have enabled millions to access information quickly and easily, plus they have made the interface between human beings and the personal computer fairly seamless, but the early business practices of Microsoft and other giants still remains as acid within our founder's insides. ["Of course, we will not get into their fight with Apple, nor will we comment upon the issues which arose between Netscape and AOL" -- admin]

So, let us leave that issue alone and summarize by saying the software and corporate support have been helpful in the extreme.

The analytics are showing doom for us. Thank goodness they are free to work with.

Also, the hexagram below will remain for the foreseeable future as a divider between site information and the admin's weblog. We like it... A lot.

"Nothing is funny anymore. Every Sunday I sit and add to the updates above with my own words after the web staff does their excellent job of keeping things in order and ensuring the audience is informed. Somehow, this matters not. I do not see the audience (nor do they)... It remains forever quiet. Is anyone out there?


Perhaps we should stop. Or better yet, perhaps we should force the issue with a billboard/header/footer/whatever. Get the word beyond these rooms and into the minds of the masses (Really? Are they worth it?). We just do not know what may be effective.

We sit and drink and ponder, and then drink and ponder some more. Over time this has become the norm but still no solution. We are stuck. Some sort of change is required right now but we have no idea in which direction to look or step. This is partially our own fault -- as outlined last week -- but still SOME sort of beginning would be good. Anything. A step. A glance over... 'There' maybe. Just 'there'. For reasons well known, we are here within the space and waiting. The space is better now, but still we remain within it, and the waiting has become the norm in more ways than we can express.

The moment needs to be realized. How can we get there?

The blinds are shut and the room is still very well lit. In the cocoon we were able to block out nearly every scrap of light, but then again there was more fog up that way. Here the sun shines more often and this leaves us with the difficult task of darkening everything in order to match the thoughts and dreams. Not easy. We still limp along, though we know not how."

[10/18/2014 07:16 pdt]


Up yours. This is OUR fucking domain. Live with it or off yourself right this minute.

Nothing much going on with the site content this week. Some minor backend work, a few tweaks to scripting, and a few older pages with updates. The vBulletin work is slow going but rewarding. We do enjoy the control.

The Clodmaster has not seen any new work for a few months but still we have some additions waiting in the wings. Work outside the development server has been haphazard of late, but we'll get there.

Still no comments, no feedback, very little attention, and nonexistent evidence of any external opinion. What a galactic waste of time this has become for us.

"Those who have frequented this site for the last several years already know that we have very little faith in society. That faith ran out on Thursday of this past week. We will not get into detail, but suffice to say that the issues are much worse than even we knew. The number of people who need to be quickly buried deep beneath the soil is increasing at a staggering rate. They are everywhere and will eventually force us out of this area and into lands isolated. We can't wait.

Here we sit for another weekend of morning coffee and Internet-related crap. Yes... 'internet'. Or should we say... 'Internet'. Yes, a capital letter on that word. This aspect and function of everyday life has become enormously influential, indispensable, and nearly all-encompassing for some businesses and individuals. The Internet and World Wide Web have become tools for life. Which means...

We missed the boat yet again.

The fucking Goddamned boat of the present and future. Gone. And now from this point how do we move forward? Can we move forward? Should we move forward? Does anyone give half a shit if we move at all? Is anyone reading this?

[And if not, should I quit this endeavor and send the staff home forever? Fuck no. Keep your asses writing. Eventually something may come of it.]

We no longer know for certain if the audience is there at all. The analytics show us multitudes of information, but the bottom line remains the bounce rate. True, we have risen from 95+ percent to just a hair over 80 percent in the last few months, but in the grand scheme of the web 80% is a non-issue. It is slovenly. It is in the gutter. We are in the gutter. We are gutter clutter. We need... Something. And we need it soon. We cannot remain as this. Inspiration... Ambition... Direction. Nonexistent. Just the continuing flow of banter and pissy moods.

So, what are the options? Hmm...

One option is obvious. We sit. Another is to attempt to direct and send this little pile of words toward the original idea of a forum for everything. The issue with that idea is the existing and ever-expanding forum content already in place. We simply cannot fight for space, and we cannot push against the tide of the web. It is just too damned big. We must fit somehow, somewhere. Without that fit we might as well close the doors. In the beginning our hopes were high and the availability was there but we failed to move on it. Now the opportunity for sliding into the conversation edgewise is nearly impossible and that fact is depressing. We had a chance in '97. A chance.

Fuck it all anyway. Perhaps the answers lie to the north. In the snow and ice. And if not answers, at least a lack of assholes. That value will always be there. "

[10/19/2014 07:33 pdt]

This site has little purpose anymore; scant audience, nil comments, and a distinct lack of anything worthwhile. Still we plod along for some reason. We have no reason, really, save for the lovely keyboards. Webgoers want content. None of that here. Just a crapload of words. The Goddamned truck just sits there staring at us as if to say: 'Well? What are you going to do now, and after nearly twelve years of this shit?' Shut the fuck up, Cloddy. We'll get around to you soon enough. Just stifle, fuckface.

And speaking of stifling, no additions to the site content. Status quo, as it were. Just more swearing.

"2010. That was a fucking year.

From the highest of highs to the lowest of lows. We cannot even fathom how those events took place. They are removed by time now, of course, and the situation in which we placed ourselves and others was unreal. We did it.

That time period sits as a reminder of that which we are always capable; every glance at the clock and every reference of the calendar. Even our beloved Winter becomes affected by the past. The cold has become a reminder of just how bad things can turn when sense flies away. Our Master Winter was always the one part of life which brought comfort, cool, and calm. True, wishes can freeze under the crush of ice but still they will defrost and be real again later. Since 2010, however, shit is different; disfigured and twisted into shapes unrecognizable. We are powerless to stop this. Weak and powerless. Completely.


Every glance at the clock. Even WE find that depressing -- to be pressed into those downward thoughts whenever the need arises to know the time of day (a need we intend to destroy, by the way). Perhaps we can alleviate such even for a short while. Perhaps we can find something to distract us from the reality of ourselves.

Perhaps not.

The sad truth is that we cannot. We will continue on this route (we are routed in the extreme at this moment) until the decay of everything. We have no choice, and it is that lack of choice which is precisely the reason for the need. Distraction. Memory loss. Thoughtlessness. Nothingness. Dark. Cold. And... Us. There are places to which we can venture which serve the need fairly well and one of those places is at this moment on the horizon. Just a few weeks and we will be in the cool temporarily. Help may ensue, and it may not. We just never know of the time when we can be lifted from a hole. In 2010 it just did not happen. And 2011 was even further down. The fact that we made it out of that is unbelievable. We did have a bit of help, however. The usual nod to the Promised Land for said help. Five trips to that lovely illusion kept us going for a short time but definitely chewed into the year's resources (and carried with them a measure of defiant behavior as well as wonder). During the first trip we did encounter some excellent food and atmosphere, but the second journey was tough. There were plenty of interruptions to the illusion and the subsequent fallout nearly destroyed the time spent at the Mandalay. And ruining that experience is a tall order. The Mandalay had a way of drowning us into where we needed to be. Drowned and comfortable. Very comfortable, to be sure. We were want for nothing at every moment. Fucking cozy to the last.

The Mandalay calls constantly and is always in the backs of our minds. Of course, we cannot venture there on a whim as in years passed. That will cause damage and pain (and we mean more than the financial type). A trip under good graces and positive intentions would be vastly different but still somehow satisfying, we suspect. Not the same, but decent. Years ago we sat within the darkness of Cleopatra's Barge and pondered what a 'normal' trip there would involve. We drank and observed others -- mostly couples. Everyone was dressed for the atmosphere (and code) and enjoyed alcohol and music. We saw no semblance of depressive acts nor did we see individuals wallowing in their gin. At that point, we decided that the Barge was not for us, but we also took note of the idea that many people visit that wondrous place with fucked up intentions.

Societal dipshits tend to spend more than fifty weeks a year getting their rope all knotted and tangled, and then expect to leave home toward some picturesque destination for a week or two and straighten everything. Things do not work that way. Within a day or two (usually the first work day is fine) they will fall victim to the same stupid, assholish and unfeeling behaviors which they left behind temporarily while away. We have written at length of society, and readers (all two of them, we expect) are likely intimately familiar with our unending disdain for the slime.

Let us retrospect:

'I cannot believe where I am right now. Why did I not leave this place years ago? Could that have saved me?

The enormous and apathetic population coupled with the unrelenting weather during summer should have pushed me out long ago. I am still here. The fuck? Why did I do this? Perhaps a better question would be: Why did I sit on my ass and not do anything?

This realization comes along with another related to the season. The beautiful and chilling Master Winter is upon us. Cool and comfortable, that one. Far detached from the hellish flame of summer. That entire section of the year is only useful to provide a stark contrast to the lovely barren and dead landscape that is the result of the cold (not much here, of course, but still much more comfortable than the heat). Well, another fucking failure that is proceeding to push me down. Fucking failure.

Driving in to work this morning I realized that all of the built-up feelings toward the end of the calendar year are floating away. I am at this moment dropping off. Just falling into the knowledge that the apparent happiness and glee of the final two months of '08 are almost gone. No more glee after that - just work, therapy, damned little booze, and the same gigantic machine chewing up my ambition, outlook, and comfort. That machine is working its way into the history books as the worst within which I could have placed myself. Both in front and behind are those souls whose purpose has eluded them. Their need to control, consume, destroy, and entertain will be my undoing. Mine. Not theirs, as it should fall. The crushing and grinding machine is made up of them and their uncaring and unending blindness. I continually fail to understand from where the apathy and impatience comes. How can such a terrible disposition take over so many souls? They do not know. They do not even attempt to know. All is well from their view. All is well as long as the fridge is full, the car is shiny, and the neighbors are envious. All is well. Everything in its place. Everything neat, tidy, groomed, landscaped, polished, and oh so fucked up and denied on the inside. Just so fucked up. The universe within which they dwell is just one lot, one house, one family, and but one need. Their own. Theirs. So sad.

My need to disrupt has never been so compelling.

As much as that need is killing me inside, I am powerless. Completely paralyzed in my position just now. I feel it ruining me like my own hellish and dramatic actions of the mid-decade. That type of feeling is not something easily overcome, and as a result the exit is illuminated and glowing with the warmth of escape. I wish I could take such. I wish I could embrace that exit, feel its security and comfort, and leave this place for all time.

Just go and forget it all.

But, that is not to be. I am forced to continue forward (or some such direction that is not to the rear) and sift through the detritus searching for something...

Well, I am angry, disappointed, uncomfortable, insecure, consumed with pain and guilt, and falling into a pit of never knowing what I could have been nor where. And now what remains is a life with them. Those fucking people. This is not where I could have been.

Could have.

Was not.

Did not.

Did nothing.

Well, fuck me. I am no one anyway.

I need a drink.

In Vino Veritas'

Those words flowed through our keyboards years ago yet ring true more than ever. The fucking toilet needs a permanent flush. We had a chance. No longer.

And just where in the holy blue fuck do we go now? Anyone? Yeah, we thought as much. No one wishes to listen, read, understand, or give half a shit. Oh, they'll pretend to, but truthfully they just want us to shut the fuck up and go away. That is most unlikely.


What happened? Did we want this? Did we need this? Do we have a choice?"

[10/19/2014 17:03 pdt]

It is over. All of it. Perhaps it was never there.

"Fuck it all anyway."

[11/15/2014 08:34 pdt]

Little tidbits of the older sites have been creeping into the content here. We love them. Those bits tend to bring us back to a time when all four sites were live in some manner. We never really grabbed Juiblex's Domain or wrapped our weary heads around the content direction there, but the operation and markup was fun nonetheless. The fact remains that aside from the admin's decision to kill three sites we were ready to be all in. He knows that, and in addition we do understand the need to focus keyboards toward an end which we can be proud (if that ever actually takes place).

As for this mess, no additions this week nor any inspiration for such. Admin's decision to return to 'dA' this week has put the kibosh to any backend improvement. Oh well.

"You're damned right.

Our return to dA is overdue by years. Within those years we have captured some beautiful images and beautiful people. Those images should be for all to see. We did not anticipate this, but the return is no less welcomed. Our past adventures there definitely lead to a vast collection of beauty. Those images will always be appreciated and the opportunity to capture more is fantastic. We go.

The north.

We have been enjoying the weather lately as it has cooled and calmed a great deal within the past few days. This is wonderful and reminds us of the beloved north country. Of course, we will soon venture up the mountain just as in years past and that will be nice. Some agreeable meals, comfort, alcohol, and scenery always make for a nice cold-season beginning. Reservations are made and planning is close. We go."

Dalton Highway

[11/30/2014 07:48 pst]

Another essay has been added, and it is one which was written by admin years ago. Other than that, not much going on in this space. We continue to strive toward the forum rollout but progress is slow. For now, we are content to add bits here and there and ensure the look remains smooth. Oh, and no one seems to see us for more than .07 seconds so the look is for naught anyway.

An idea of sorts has flown around between staff members and admin during this past week, and said idea may turn into a new section for the site (a big one!). Before heading in any crazy direction, we will test the waters for assurance that the result may be worth much effort.

"Too much more of this and we are going to lose it.

We rammed our heads hard on that one... She was unbelievable. Of course, that was several years ago and we are reminded merely because of a journal entry from the old MySpace days. Oh we are still there, but the carnage of 2011 left the profile in ruin. Too bad. Much work went into that beauty. [I still have everything. Unfortunately the MySpace profile layout has turned into something unwieldy and I cannot get the same look now -- admin]

There may have been another tidbit pushing us in the direction of the female form... A recent and repeated vision of a masterpiece in motion, which not only means the eye remains as it should, but also another essay is in the wings. This is a wonderful thing.

The situation does have a downside, however. The previous attempt at capturing a woman and putting her to paper yielded many months of depression and difficulty. Damaging behavior ensued, and the resulting situation pushed us into writing very hazardous words. We do not want that again, but she may be worth a stretch in the black. Perhaps she already is. The next few weeks will dictate the possibilities as well as the negatives. Normally we will avoid anything which can bring the black into Winter, but as stated above, the effort and resulting album of information may be well worth spending time in the darkness. We've done it so many times that we fail to recall all of them. One even pushed us to the Promised Land for a spell, and that resulted in even more damage than the essay.

She may be worth it.

We need a photo.


Yes, ramming our heads very hard on that slab. That was the norm then, and could be again. We are close. After a quick trip to the highlands for a slight respite and a venture to the artificial scene of beauty we are awash. Awash and close. Yikes. That has long proven a dangerous combination, and at this particular time, can be a trigger. The trigger was illuminated brightly yesterday, to be sure. The control required to maintain composure during such trials is tremendous and difficult to expend. There were examples of the mathematical harmony everywhere -- a few of which nearly drove us to the liquor at full clip. Fortunately, the control was at hand. We held back, held the liquor, and held on for our lives.

Next time, however, we may not survive. That fiery world calls at every opportunity and we will surely fail -- soon.

Soon we will return to the scene and attempt to do it all again. We are like the proverbial moth... Dipping our wanting eyes into the damaging and beautiful areas of the world with reckless abandon. Damaging, indeed. The sights and feelings overtake our frail frames and bend the imagination into places forbidden. Places which shall remain nameless until such time as we can make use of them and entertain our disturbed, distorted, drowned, and deviant minds. Years of glancing, capturing, writing, photographing, and collecting are somehow no longer enough. We sit at these keyboards and attempt to make it all into something sensible, clear, and understood. Still, however, we remain confused, hurt, and absolutely dripping with need.

Fuck it.

Something must give, and we fear when it does the entire world will collapse upon our unnatural feelings and desires.

----- is beautiful beyond words. His voice and guitar have serenaded us on many a Sunday, and this morning the combination of his creativity and the rain outside is almost enough to keep us alive."

To 2015