The heater in my car doesn't work.
I have the hiccups, in addition to my ongoing hacking cough.
Cats are still inside. Beasley went out for about 45 seconds. Someone ate the cat food on the porch while I was at work, but I see no prints in the snow.
Pinto beans and corn bread for lunch and again at dinner at the RC, which closed early this evening due to inclement weather.
I'm sitting here wrapped in a blanket thinking I'd like one of those hooded wool meditation cloaks they sell on some of the yuppie Buddhist web sites. I'm cold.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Watching the weather
KOCO is reporting on its web site that there's a quarter-inch of ice on trees in Shawnee, and ice accumulations up to four inches may occur in some parts of the state by morning.
Where I am, just outside the bubble (or just inside, depending on how you feel about May Avenue) there is... nothing.
Looking at the radar, it seems we might get lucky and keep it that way.
Time for bed.
All cats are in, except for Gimp, who's been gone several days and is probably at the cat lady's house across the street, and Butthead, who must be holed up somewhere. I'd let 'em both in tonight if they were around, but they aren't.
Where I am, just outside the bubble (or just inside, depending on how you feel about May Avenue) there is... nothing.
Looking at the radar, it seems we might get lucky and keep it that way.
Time for bed.
All cats are in, except for Gimp, who's been gone several days and is probably at the cat lady's house across the street, and Butthead, who must be holed up somewhere. I'd let 'em both in tonight if they were around, but they aren't.
Buddhist podcasts
I have so many dharma talks and similar items on my computer now that I'll never be able to listen to them all. I've thought about getting an iPod just to have a way to play them all while at work or sitting around at the Red Cup. But I am resistant to spending money on yet another consumer gadget.
I started with the Alan Watts talks John X tipped me to a couple of weeks ago. I had read many of his books, of course, but hearing his voice was fascinating... just a very relaxing, yet engaging speaking style. People don't talk like that anymore - not in the Rush/Chris Matthews/Bill O'Reilly era. Which is too bad.
Although Watts was not a recognized Zen master, there are many people with proper 'Buddhist cred' whose work is available on the net. Several schools are represented. The podcast section of the iTunes Music Store has a wide selection (of course, you have to have Apple's iTunes to get them; it's free and there's a version for Windows)
Tricycle Magazine also has a free MP3 collection.
I started with the Alan Watts talks John X tipped me to a couple of weeks ago. I had read many of his books, of course, but hearing his voice was fascinating... just a very relaxing, yet engaging speaking style. People don't talk like that anymore - not in the Rush/Chris Matthews/Bill O'Reilly era. Which is too bad.
Although Watts was not a recognized Zen master, there are many people with proper 'Buddhist cred' whose work is available on the net. Several schools are represented. The podcast section of the iTunes Music Store has a wide selection (of course, you have to have Apple's iTunes to get them; it's free and there's a version for Windows)
Tricycle Magazine also has a free MP3 collection.
Flash animation
I lack both the time and the temperament to do much with Flash animation. Although the results are often impressive, Flash is very time-intensive compared to other forms of web design.
Here are a couple of Flash-based web pages I like.
In both cases, they attempt to explain fairly abstract ideas with animation.
The first one is www.perceivingreality.com, which is operated by a Kabbalah group, the Ashlag Research Institute. I make no claims or endorsement for Kabbalah, but I think the approach to the subject matter is interesting. Has a bit of a 'What the Bleep Do We Know?' feel to it.
The second one is www.tenthdimension.com, which attempts to explain string theory to us non-physicists. Creator Rob Bryanton is not a physicist himself – he runs a recording/audio postproduction studio in Regina, Saskatchewan. Again, I make no endorsement of the content, but I find the approach interesting.
Here are a couple of Flash-based web pages I like.
In both cases, they attempt to explain fairly abstract ideas with animation.
The first one is www.perceivingreality.com, which is operated by a Kabbalah group, the Ashlag Research Institute. I make no claims or endorsement for Kabbalah, but I think the approach to the subject matter is interesting. Has a bit of a 'What the Bleep Do We Know?' feel to it.
The second one is www.tenthdimension.com, which attempts to explain string theory to us non-physicists. Creator Rob Bryanton is not a physicist himself – he runs a recording/audio postproduction studio in Regina, Saskatchewan. Again, I make no endorsement of the content, but I find the approach interesting.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Well, I'm up
I've been awakened twice overnight by strange dreams, one of them obliquely previous-career-related. That whole part of my life, 25 years long, was like stumbling around in a basement with the lights out, and I wish I could just excise the whole thing from my past and jump straight from college to about 2002.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Sunday random notes
I did very little that was productive this weekend. I feel no guilt or remorse about it. I have come to view relaxing as being at least equally productive as a lot of the more conventionally productive things I could have been doing.
I have been having another run of dreams pertaining to my former career. This has been going on for about two weeks. As is usually the case, these dreams are not set in any place where I actually worked, but rather in places that didn't exist in my waking life. I wonder what prompts these to occur when they do.
I didn't get out on so-called 'Black Friday' but couldn't help but notice how empty the streets seemed on Saturday and Sunday. At the intersection of NW Expwy and Penn, which is usually clogged with Penn Square Mall traffic this time of year, a police officer had been stationed this afternoon to make sure motorists didn't block the exit from the neighboring 50 Penn Place. But he had nothing to do but sit in his car: the street was almost devoid of traffic.
At Borders, dreary Christmas music (dreary to me, anyway) was playing. Dean Martin roasting chestnuts on an open fire. Christmas music in general depresses me.
Someone came in to the RC this evening and asked me for help with his WinXP laptop. He had installed Internet Explorer 7, and suddenly he couldn't connect to the Internet at all via wifi. I looked at it, and as best as I can tell, his computer is now unable to get DHCP information from routers. Only on Windows could installing a browser break DHCP. Well, at least I wasn't the one who broke it this time.
I have been having another run of dreams pertaining to my former career. This has been going on for about two weeks. As is usually the case, these dreams are not set in any place where I actually worked, but rather in places that didn't exist in my waking life. I wonder what prompts these to occur when they do.
I didn't get out on so-called 'Black Friday' but couldn't help but notice how empty the streets seemed on Saturday and Sunday. At the intersection of NW Expwy and Penn, which is usually clogged with Penn Square Mall traffic this time of year, a police officer had been stationed this afternoon to make sure motorists didn't block the exit from the neighboring 50 Penn Place. But he had nothing to do but sit in his car: the street was almost devoid of traffic.
At Borders, dreary Christmas music (dreary to me, anyway) was playing. Dean Martin roasting chestnuts on an open fire. Christmas music in general depresses me.
Someone came in to the RC this evening and asked me for help with his WinXP laptop. He had installed Internet Explorer 7, and suddenly he couldn't connect to the Internet at all via wifi. I looked at it, and as best as I can tell, his computer is now unable to get DHCP information from routers. Only on Windows could installing a browser break DHCP. Well, at least I wasn't the one who broke it this time.
Friday, November 24, 2006
The Friday roundtable
The regular session of the Friday roundtable convened at Galileo with BookemDanO, BobO, Tanner and myself present. Upon seeing that a quorum had not been reached, we adjourned and went our separate ways.
Where the hell was everyone?
Where the hell was everyone?
A flash from the past
Seven or so years ago, I read a book by a psychiatrist and self-help guru named David Viscott. (I had the impression from his bio that he was the person upon whom the Seattle incarnation of Frasier Crane was modeled.)
Viscott wrote in the particular book I read about how people sometimes see an object that sets in motion a line of thinking that suddenly leads to a new realization totally unrelated to the original stimulus. The incident he used as an example, as I recall, was a patient who was studying the storm shutters on a house and whose discursive thinking about those shutters led to a profound realization about the state of his own life and the origins thereof.
I am not a huge believer in the concept of 'recovered memories.'
But tonight, as I was reading this Charlotte Joko Beck book, I had a sudden flash basically unrelated to the book itself.
She was talking about how she had been mistreated by her parents. As I've mentioned before, at least in conversation, I had a pretty crappy childhood, but physical abuse was not part of the picture. But when I read that, I suddenly had this flash of my mother slapping me. Not hard -- she wasn't physically capable of that. But I had completely forgotten it, or blocked it from my mind, and certainly hadn't thought about it since I was a teenager.
It happened more than once, and I can't tell you what it was about. What I recall is that my mother's temper often flared for reasons completely incomprehensible to me.
I could say something completely innocuous (like "What's for dinner?") and get a slap in response. More frequently, she would scream, "Don't you talk to me in that totem voice!" I had no idea what "totem voice" meant, and if I asked her what she meant -- well, I guess that's when I got slapped.
(Years and years later, when I was in my late thirties, and my mother and I hadn't spoken in fifteen years or more, I saw Meredith Baxter in a TV movie shriek at her daughter, "Don't you talk to me in that tone of voice!!" and it suddenly dawned on me that's what my mother had been saying years before.
My mother also referred to Premium® brand saltine crackers as "Preermum" -- she had trouble enunciating, I guess.)
Over the course of my life, I would see people get slapped in movies or TV shows, and somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that I knew what it felt like to be slapped, but I had forgotten that I had ever actually been slapped, and that it was my mother who had slapped me.
(My stepmother, too, on one odd occasion which I well remember, but that's another story.)
Again, I know that other people have suffered far worse treatment at the hands of their parents. The point of my story is not that I was physically abused, but that I had blocked this repeated event from my mind completely for decades, even during therapy, and that this one passage from this book, which fell into my hands through a series of events odd in itself, suddenly jarred this memory loose from wherever it had been stored in my brain.
What else happened that I don't remember?
(For example: the Christmas Carol 'Silent Night' fills me with dread, so much so that if I hear it in a store or shopping mall during this time of year, I have to leave. Back in 1998 or thereabouts, I asked my dad if he knew why that might be. The color drained from his face. There was a long pause, and he said, 'Well, I guess something that happened during your childhood.')
Viscott wrote in the particular book I read about how people sometimes see an object that sets in motion a line of thinking that suddenly leads to a new realization totally unrelated to the original stimulus. The incident he used as an example, as I recall, was a patient who was studying the storm shutters on a house and whose discursive thinking about those shutters led to a profound realization about the state of his own life and the origins thereof.
I am not a huge believer in the concept of 'recovered memories.'
But tonight, as I was reading this Charlotte Joko Beck book, I had a sudden flash basically unrelated to the book itself.
She was talking about how she had been mistreated by her parents. As I've mentioned before, at least in conversation, I had a pretty crappy childhood, but physical abuse was not part of the picture. But when I read that, I suddenly had this flash of my mother slapping me. Not hard -- she wasn't physically capable of that. But I had completely forgotten it, or blocked it from my mind, and certainly hadn't thought about it since I was a teenager.
It happened more than once, and I can't tell you what it was about. What I recall is that my mother's temper often flared for reasons completely incomprehensible to me.
I could say something completely innocuous (like "What's for dinner?") and get a slap in response. More frequently, she would scream, "Don't you talk to me in that totem voice!" I had no idea what "totem voice" meant, and if I asked her what she meant -- well, I guess that's when I got slapped.
(Years and years later, when I was in my late thirties, and my mother and I hadn't spoken in fifteen years or more, I saw Meredith Baxter in a TV movie shriek at her daughter, "Don't you talk to me in that tone of voice!!" and it suddenly dawned on me that's what my mother had been saying years before.
My mother also referred to Premium® brand saltine crackers as "Preermum" -- she had trouble enunciating, I guess.)
Over the course of my life, I would see people get slapped in movies or TV shows, and somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that I knew what it felt like to be slapped, but I had forgotten that I had ever actually been slapped, and that it was my mother who had slapped me.
(My stepmother, too, on one odd occasion which I well remember, but that's another story.)
Again, I know that other people have suffered far worse treatment at the hands of their parents. The point of my story is not that I was physically abused, but that I had blocked this repeated event from my mind completely for decades, even during therapy, and that this one passage from this book, which fell into my hands through a series of events odd in itself, suddenly jarred this memory loose from wherever it had been stored in my brain.
What else happened that I don't remember?
(For example: the Christmas Carol 'Silent Night' fills me with dread, so much so that if I hear it in a store or shopping mall during this time of year, I have to leave. Back in 1998 or thereabouts, I asked my dad if he knew why that might be. The color drained from his face. There was a long pause, and he said, 'Well, I guess something that happened during your childhood.')
Just sayin'
If anything turns me into a libertarian, it will be my federally-mandated low-flush toilet.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
I don't know how to pronounce 'tathagata'...
or most of the other Sanskrit, Pali, Chinese and Japanese words I've encountered whilst studying Buddhism. I just guess at them.
I had been pronouncing 'tathagata' tah-tha-GAH-tah, like it was Spanish or Italian, when, according to my Buddhist friend Jen, it's actually tah-THA-gah-tah.
Anyone who knows where on the Internets to find pronunciations of these words, post a comment.
I had been pronouncing 'tathagata' tah-tha-GAH-tah, like it was Spanish or Italian, when, according to my Buddhist friend Jen, it's actually tah-THA-gah-tah.
Anyone who knows where on the Internets to find pronunciations of these words, post a comment.
I'm pleased to say...
...that I sat for awhile tonight. A very short while, but at least it's a start.
I drove around some, looking for a place to eat where I could, because of my cold, enjoy some extended quiet and privacy. I saw an Asian restaurant open, and the Deep Fork Grill, and passed on both. Came home and nuked macaroni and cheese.
Don't feel sorry for me because I didn't have a big T'giving dinner. I had a generously-offered opportunity and I passed because of the sniffles and hacking cough.
I'm off tomorrow, and the Red Cup is open, so my life will return somewhat to normal.
I drove around some, looking for a place to eat where I could, because of my cold, enjoy some extended quiet and privacy. I saw an Asian restaurant open, and the Deep Fork Grill, and passed on both. Came home and nuked macaroni and cheese.
Don't feel sorry for me because I didn't have a big T'giving dinner. I had a generously-offered opportunity and I passed because of the sniffles and hacking cough.
I'm off tomorrow, and the Red Cup is open, so my life will return somewhat to normal.
Thanksgiving Day addendum
I'm also thankful Americans woke the $%#* up this fall and threw the bastards out.
Thanksgiving Day, 2006
No self-pity today, okay? I do have things for which to be thankful.
I have a home with no mortgage, a functioning car with no payments, decent if not high-fashion clothes to wear, music in the house all the time and incense as often as I want it. Which is about all I crave at this point.
I seem to spend slightly less money than I earn, which is good.
My mutual fund savings and especially my IRA have done well this year, and barring economic cataclysm, old age looks safe for me.
I have peace of mind most of the time, which is the most important thing.
I have friends who came to visit me in the hospital and took care of me when I was sick, and other friends who would have if they had known I was ill.
I have my cats who keep me company even when I'm not a lot of fun to be with.
There's not much else I want or need.
I have a home with no mortgage, a functioning car with no payments, decent if not high-fashion clothes to wear, music in the house all the time and incense as often as I want it. Which is about all I crave at this point.
I seem to spend slightly less money than I earn, which is good.
My mutual fund savings and especially my IRA have done well this year, and barring economic cataclysm, old age looks safe for me.
I have peace of mind most of the time, which is the most important thing.
I have friends who came to visit me in the hospital and took care of me when I was sick, and other friends who would have if they had known I was ill.
I have my cats who keep me company even when I'm not a lot of fun to be with.
There's not much else I want or need.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Wednesday PM
Well, the sore throat is mostly gone, but my nose is still running and I have a dry hacking cough that would alarm Doc Holliday.
I also have that nasty aftertaste that throat lozenges always leave. I've brushed my teeth a half-dozen times today.
I had the idea it would be cool if the white and green Taras
would manifest themselves and sit by my bed whilst I suffered, just to keep me company. Guys always turn into whiny little boys when they're sick, or so I'm told. I need a mom, and I would nominate them. (My real mom... well, good lord. I'd rather just die alone on an outcropping of rock, thank you, and that would have been her preference for me as well.)
Blogblah's comment in the preceding post is spot on; however I have considerable emotional and intellectual equity invested in self-pity this week and I don't want to waste any of it.
Back to bed.
I also have that nasty aftertaste that throat lozenges always leave. I've brushed my teeth a half-dozen times today.
I had the idea it would be cool if the white and green Taras
would manifest themselves and sit by my bed whilst I suffered, just to keep me company. Guys always turn into whiny little boys when they're sick, or so I'm told. I need a mom, and I would nominate them. (My real mom... well, good lord. I'd rather just die alone on an outcropping of rock, thank you, and that would have been her preference for me as well.)
Blogblah's comment in the preceding post is spot on; however I have considerable emotional and intellectual equity invested in self-pity this week and I don't want to waste any of it.
Back to bed.
No Galileo for you tonight, young man
I could probably pick up an antihistamine at 7-Eleven and tough it out, but I don't want to risk infecting my friends with this.
Day Two
First thing: I'm still sick. Now there's muscle and joint aches, especially in my legs.
Second thing: I'm hooked, as they say in buddhist circles, meaning I'm craving something or a number of things I don't have, and that's the source of my unhappiness. I know what a couple of them are (genetically-engineered shitless cats, for example), but there are probably others I haven't even thought of.
Nina posted this proverb on her blog:
But I think in this context, even a lifetime of helping others can be a way to distract oneself from one's own suffering.
What is the state of your mind when you're doing nothing at all? What is the state of your mind when you're sitting absolutely still, with no music, no television, no books to hold your attention? Are you happy then?
I find that lately I plan my day around two events: lunch, and going back to bed after I get off work. Sometimes I'm under the blankets by 6:30.
Second thing: I'm hooked, as they say in buddhist circles, meaning I'm craving something or a number of things I don't have, and that's the source of my unhappiness. I know what a couple of them are (genetically-engineered shitless cats, for example), but there are probably others I haven't even thought of.
Nina posted this proverb on her blog:
If you want happiness for an hour, take a nap.
If you want happiness for a day, go fishing.
If you want happiness for a month, get married.
If you want happiness for a year, inherit a fortune.
If you want happiness for a lifetime, help others.
But I think in this context, even a lifetime of helping others can be a way to distract oneself from one's own suffering.
What is the state of your mind when you're doing nothing at all? What is the state of your mind when you're sitting absolutely still, with no music, no television, no books to hold your attention? Are you happy then?
I find that lately I plan my day around two events: lunch, and going back to bed after I get off work. Sometimes I'm under the blankets by 6:30.
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