On that sill
On that canopy written there
There's my name
Emblazoned and read with fear
"There's this march, there is this war
There's this rage as Evermore
Unlike my heart temporal
My fathers words perennial"
And that day
Shook green leaves white clouds ephemeral
Systems sang
Displays blossomed with a soft unfurl
"There's this warm gentle wind
There's this hope that none can rend
Coursing through earthen veins
There is his love that always mends"
Chorus:
There's rage in the Lakewood Den and
There's tumult in my heart
'Cause there is love coursing through my viens
Requesting that you be a part.
I promise you Evermore!
In that sky
In that space we built Evermore
Twixt the storms
Hidden our dream and passioned lore
"There's this fine turbine scream
There are these engines sounds as dream
Rumbling bone, flesh, sinew
Shaking leaves wet with morning dew"
And that day
Shook green leaves white clouds ephemeral
And my heart sang
As I opened to you with soft unfurl
"There's these fists there are these hands
Their power rippling through the lands
Powered by my fathers words
As evermore as times eternal sands"
Chorus:
There's rage in the Lakewood Den and
There's tumult in my heart
'Cause there is love coursing through my viens
Requesting you be a part.
I promise you Evermore!
Monday, December 01, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Ruminations
After a far more productive day working in hell on a Buick Century (blown headgasket), I popped into the pad to have a cup of hot brown and relax a little. On
goes Top Gear and everything is good right? Watching episode 2 from Season 11, I can't help but think just how right on Jezza's diatribe about the serenity (not really
the word I want but it'll do for now) of just going for a drive or ride and being alone really is.
The last 7 years I spent in California was in Monterey Bay and most of that someplace in Santa Cruz county. At the time I lived somewhere between 50 and 65 miles from
work. Most wouldn't put up with such a commute and chose to live someplace a lot closer. The choice most often made was Salinas, which anyone who has ever been there
knows that it's really nothing more then an over sized truck stop come shooting gallery. Prolly has something to do with all the families of incarcerated convicts 20
minutes down the road at Soledad.
So yeah, the place was bunk. I lived there for exactly one year then boltered north. A short stint (3 months?) in the herione laden town of Gilroy, then I broke left to
270 and landed in one of the best places I ever lived and met one of the best poeple I ever met. La Selva Beach and Lily Cogan.
But....., uhhhh...., I'm getting off topic.
The cool thing about living in Monterey Bay was the extreme abundance of killer roads, killer weather, killer views, killer beaches, and that mad commute I had. I
essentially spent 2 hours a day in my car and was knocking over miles at the rate of 2200 A MONTH!
But here is the cool thing, and the true reason for this rant: I loved it. On any day, I had choice after choice of routes to take. The evenings on the return home often
provided that night time central coast ambiance (normally fog) with very few cars to share it with. Everything from bumpy farming roads with huge 100+ (Yeah!) sweepers
to narrow two lanes with branches hanging out over the road and fast a$$ blind corners cut into the sides of hills. From time to time my radar detector chirping as it caught
errant whiffs of CHP K band bouncing about.
Every night after work I was faced with the quandry of what route to take and what exactly was my driving mood. Did I want to relax and just enjoy the scenery?
In that case I could've stayed on 101 and just cruised with the lorries, but the normal choice was to head for the base of the mountains on the west side of
Salinas Valley then head north. Sometimes towards Montery then heading south from Laguna Seca over a high and gorgous vista with a view of the Pacific then down into
Carmel Valley. Other times was a trek that would take me due west from that ghetto mall in Salinas and 101 through more farming roads that rolled up and down endlessly.
Bits of farming shizzle parked here and there and the occasional house in seas of cabbage bathed in full moon blue. Roads so narrow that the only time I dared blast
through there was in the dead of night when even the chickens and barn rats were sure to be asleep as opposed to out on the road to be turned into road carpet by my
Cocteau Twins blasting Subaru Legacy wagon. That road eventually ending with a turn north west towards Castroville and eventually, the biggest tease and dream of all,
Moss Landing. The absolute middle of the bay and dotted with examples of a potential lifetime never to be realized.
Oh well...
This for me was essentially a seven year age of introspection. Introspection puncatuated with great music, great food, great people, great trips, and the occasional
terror of overcooking corners (I really should be dead now!).
That said, let me also say that there are two kinds of fast people. Those that are just naturally fast (seemingly fearless happy go lucky loons that
instead of having 100 yard stares go about with a whacky gazes and jesters hats) and those with a natural affinity and apptitude for going fast. A very big yet very
subtle difference. Far more of us in this ilk are of the latter type, and for us, introspection is the corner stone of our profession/obsession. Somehow we find
comfort at an elevated pace as our minds slip into a different level of operation. Our situational awarness shoots through the roof and our bodily sensors increase in
sensitivity. We slip into flow states and begin to process information at a rate far greater then the tosser on a major highway that's bored into trance by the painted
lines slipping past. Every change in attitude sensed, every protest of the tires felt, braking points and corner speed calculated and decided upon without any
conscious consdiration. Every wiggle and slide noted at a rate that's far more impressive then any multi-pipeline RISC processor could every hope to match.
Isn't that what it is that we really dig? Taking a machine, whether it be motorcycle, car, skateboard, or fighter, and venturing out to someplace close to our limits, if
not over them. And as our skills increase, venturing out to the limits of our machines or conveyances. And it's not even so much the machine as it is what the machine
allows or makes possible for us to experience. The chance to open up our senses and operate closer to our fullest capability by controlling vehicles that are far more
capable then our bodies alone. To feel forces acting upon us that we just can't attain merely from running or jumping.
Here is a quick little story that sums it up well in my opinion. When I was kid in my early teens, me and the rest of the idiots in my neighborhood had our BMX bikes and
like to build jumps just like idiots all over the world. I one day went outside on my then Schwinn Scrambler to find my mates building a dirt ramp on the side of this
driveway that ended up being nearly 3 feet high. This had some potential I thought. After watching a bunch of the other kids just kind of barely go over, I got fed up,
talked some crap, then headed down the street a little for my turn. I put everything I had in getting up to speed for that jump. After launch, I wound up being nearly
two feet higher then the heads of the rest of the idiots standing by watching. While being six feet in the air and blasting along, I was also giggling my arse off! Stuff
like that tickled me straight to my core!
And that says it well. Big jumps, drifts, backing it in, feeling that hit when a big turbo finally spools up, big airs on vert ramps, or whatever it is that makes you
feel good.
Anyway, I've come to realize that my time out there in Santa Cruz has been the benchmark that the quality of my life is judged
against. On almost every level. Personal growth, freinds, travel, music, writing, and just as important as all the previous, driving and riding fast.
Thinking about going fast and actually going fast in a such an incredible part of the world is the one thing that will remain with me forever and color my view of things
until I'm dead and roots are digging through my carcass. And just as important as that, those clear, cold, sparkling, full moon, Montery Bay
evenings experienced alone with just the sound of the engine or songs like Sultitan Itan were most precious.
I doubt that those who've never lived such a life can ever hope to understand.
goes Top Gear and everything is good right? Watching episode 2 from Season 11, I can't help but think just how right on Jezza's diatribe about the serenity (not really
the word I want but it'll do for now) of just going for a drive or ride and being alone really is.
The last 7 years I spent in California was in Monterey Bay and most of that someplace in Santa Cruz county. At the time I lived somewhere between 50 and 65 miles from
work. Most wouldn't put up with such a commute and chose to live someplace a lot closer. The choice most often made was Salinas, which anyone who has ever been there
knows that it's really nothing more then an over sized truck stop come shooting gallery. Prolly has something to do with all the families of incarcerated convicts 20
minutes down the road at Soledad.
So yeah, the place was bunk. I lived there for exactly one year then boltered north. A short stint (3 months?) in the herione laden town of Gilroy, then I broke left to
270 and landed in one of the best places I ever lived and met one of the best poeple I ever met. La Selva Beach and Lily Cogan.
But....., uhhhh...., I'm getting off topic.
The cool thing about living in Monterey Bay was the extreme abundance of killer roads, killer weather, killer views, killer beaches, and that mad commute I had. I
essentially spent 2 hours a day in my car and was knocking over miles at the rate of 2200 A MONTH!
But here is the cool thing, and the true reason for this rant: I loved it. On any day, I had choice after choice of routes to take. The evenings on the return home often
provided that night time central coast ambiance (normally fog) with very few cars to share it with. Everything from bumpy farming roads with huge 100+ (Yeah!) sweepers
to narrow two lanes with branches hanging out over the road and fast a$$ blind corners cut into the sides of hills. From time to time my radar detector chirping as it caught
errant whiffs of CHP K band bouncing about.
Every night after work I was faced with the quandry of what route to take and what exactly was my driving mood. Did I want to relax and just enjoy the scenery?
In that case I could've stayed on 101 and just cruised with the lorries, but the normal choice was to head for the base of the mountains on the west side of
Salinas Valley then head north. Sometimes towards Montery then heading south from Laguna Seca over a high and gorgous vista with a view of the Pacific then down into
Carmel Valley. Other times was a trek that would take me due west from that ghetto mall in Salinas and 101 through more farming roads that rolled up and down endlessly.
Bits of farming shizzle parked here and there and the occasional house in seas of cabbage bathed in full moon blue. Roads so narrow that the only time I dared blast
through there was in the dead of night when even the chickens and barn rats were sure to be asleep as opposed to out on the road to be turned into road carpet by my
Cocteau Twins blasting Subaru Legacy wagon. That road eventually ending with a turn north west towards Castroville and eventually, the biggest tease and dream of all,
Moss Landing. The absolute middle of the bay and dotted with examples of a potential lifetime never to be realized.
Oh well...
This for me was essentially a seven year age of introspection. Introspection puncatuated with great music, great food, great people, great trips, and the occasional
terror of overcooking corners (I really should be dead now!).
That said, let me also say that there are two kinds of fast people. Those that are just naturally fast (seemingly fearless happy go lucky loons that
instead of having 100 yard stares go about with a whacky gazes and jesters hats) and those with a natural affinity and apptitude for going fast. A very big yet very
subtle difference. Far more of us in this ilk are of the latter type, and for us, introspection is the corner stone of our profession/obsession. Somehow we find
comfort at an elevated pace as our minds slip into a different level of operation. Our situational awarness shoots through the roof and our bodily sensors increase in
sensitivity. We slip into flow states and begin to process information at a rate far greater then the tosser on a major highway that's bored into trance by the painted
lines slipping past. Every change in attitude sensed, every protest of the tires felt, braking points and corner speed calculated and decided upon without any
conscious consdiration. Every wiggle and slide noted at a rate that's far more impressive then any multi-pipeline RISC processor could every hope to match.
Isn't that what it is that we really dig? Taking a machine, whether it be motorcycle, car, skateboard, or fighter, and venturing out to someplace close to our limits, if
not over them. And as our skills increase, venturing out to the limits of our machines or conveyances. And it's not even so much the machine as it is what the machine
allows or makes possible for us to experience. The chance to open up our senses and operate closer to our fullest capability by controlling vehicles that are far more
capable then our bodies alone. To feel forces acting upon us that we just can't attain merely from running or jumping.
Here is a quick little story that sums it up well in my opinion. When I was kid in my early teens, me and the rest of the idiots in my neighborhood had our BMX bikes and
like to build jumps just like idiots all over the world. I one day went outside on my then Schwinn Scrambler to find my mates building a dirt ramp on the side of this
driveway that ended up being nearly 3 feet high. This had some potential I thought. After watching a bunch of the other kids just kind of barely go over, I got fed up,
talked some crap, then headed down the street a little for my turn. I put everything I had in getting up to speed for that jump. After launch, I wound up being nearly
two feet higher then the heads of the rest of the idiots standing by watching. While being six feet in the air and blasting along, I was also giggling my arse off! Stuff
like that tickled me straight to my core!
And that says it well. Big jumps, drifts, backing it in, feeling that hit when a big turbo finally spools up, big airs on vert ramps, or whatever it is that makes you
feel good.
Anyway, I've come to realize that my time out there in Santa Cruz has been the benchmark that the quality of my life is judged
against. On almost every level. Personal growth, freinds, travel, music, writing, and just as important as all the previous, driving and riding fast.
Thinking about going fast and actually going fast in a such an incredible part of the world is the one thing that will remain with me forever and color my view of things
until I'm dead and roots are digging through my carcass. And just as important as that, those clear, cold, sparkling, full moon, Montery Bay
evenings experienced alone with just the sound of the engine or songs like Sultitan Itan were most precious.
I doubt that those who've never lived such a life can ever hope to understand.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Suckers Song
Anviyell
Elvaleethia
Arya
And the court of the Pacific BG's
Rise and be glad
Stand and shout
For the Lakewood Den lives
It's leader breaking free of the spell
But go about quietly
and speak about respectfully
and treat his soul with dignity
for he now sings the suckers song
and struggles with his own stick
Anviyell
Elvaleethia
Arya
And the consortium of propulsion
Rise and show support
Bristle with a warriors cavort
For the Lakewood Den lives
It's leader fighting and unfelled
But go about sadly
yet speak about gladly
and respect the pain highly
for BDKR now sings the suckers song
and is fighting that addiction of old
Elvaleethia
Arya
And the court of the Pacific BG's
Rise and be glad
Stand and shout
For the Lakewood Den lives
It's leader breaking free of the spell
But go about quietly
and speak about respectfully
and treat his soul with dignity
for he now sings the suckers song
and struggles with his own stick
Anviyell
Elvaleethia
Arya
And the consortium of propulsion
Rise and show support
Bristle with a warriors cavort
For the Lakewood Den lives
It's leader fighting and unfelled
But go about sadly
yet speak about gladly
and respect the pain highly
for BDKR now sings the suckers song
and is fighting that addiction of old
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Object/Relational Mapping is the Vietnam of Computer Science
While writing some copy for the 15 Dragonflies site I'm developing, I did a little research to make certain my ideas on a couple of things and stumbled onto a page / list entry with the title above. The title alone caused me a good deal of laughter, but the ensuing discussion is downright sick.
Austin Ziegler does a very good job of talking about the issues surrounding OO databases and touches lightly on other issues that result for the "Impedance Mismatch" that OODBMS vendors like to banter about. As a matter of fact, he's a far less abrasive version of Fabian Pascal, but no less entertaining at the same time.
I'm certainly glad to read this stuff from time to time. Especially in light of my present circumstances and my decision to roll my own as opposed to working for blokes on band wagons. Being told that you suck because you aren't good at doing something that sucks, well...., SUCKS!
What do I suck at? Well, I'm glad you asked. I suck at accepting the idea that these bloated carcass frameworks like Cake and Ruby on Rails are great. I suck at the idea of accepting XML as the best thing since sliced bread. I suck at accepting the idea that the extremely expensive overhead of OR mapping is to be accepted.
I wonder if 15 Dragonflies is the first development house to openly eschew this folly and call it for what it is.
Austin Ziegler does a very good job of talking about the issues surrounding OO databases and touches lightly on other issues that result for the "Impedance Mismatch" that OODBMS vendors like to banter about. As a matter of fact, he's a far less abrasive version of Fabian Pascal, but no less entertaining at the same time.
I'm certainly glad to read this stuff from time to time. Especially in light of my present circumstances and my decision to roll my own as opposed to working for blokes on band wagons. Being told that you suck because you aren't good at doing something that sucks, well...., SUCKS!
What do I suck at? Well, I'm glad you asked. I suck at accepting the idea that these bloated carcass frameworks like Cake and Ruby on Rails are great. I suck at the idea of accepting XML as the best thing since sliced bread. I suck at accepting the idea that the extremely expensive overhead of OR mapping is to be accepted.
I wonder if 15 Dragonflies is the first development house to openly eschew this folly and call it for what it is.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Chapter 7: Splash and Bug
You're kidding right?
Are you really saying this to me?
I am I!
Wrought with anger and purpose,
forged of calculation and velocity,
and christened with the roar of internal combustion.
There is no greater rage in all the BG's!
At times smooth and graceful.
At times explosive and decisive.
I shall not be hemmed in.
I shall not be ashamed!
My core: a subtle expression,
more delicate then I ever knew,
more convoluted then I ever imagined,
more powerful then I ever dreamed.
And now I realize for the first time ever, likely to be alone forever.
There is no more wonderous equation then that of an honest heart!
All thanx to dayspring.
Yes Alfred, I have loved and lost
and for the good as well.
You see, the extension of my arm,
the offerring of my hand,
the opening of my heart,
is always an invitation into the heavens.
From which, I will not step down.
I can not step down.
I will not go down there again.
Down there into those dusty throes of mediocrity and safety.
The temporality of flesh.
A lifetime without velocity.
A lifetime without flow states.
Traded for a lifetime of fear and safety.
Ending in regret.
So it's loss again.
And to that I say good.
For I have only one master.
But for you Pygmalion, I have only one answer,
and it's now approaching from your six at mach 5!
Are you really saying this to me?
I am I!
Wrought with anger and purpose,
forged of calculation and velocity,
and christened with the roar of internal combustion.
There is no greater rage in all the BG's!
At times smooth and graceful.
At times explosive and decisive.
I shall not be hemmed in.
I shall not be ashamed!
My core: a subtle expression,
more delicate then I ever knew,
more convoluted then I ever imagined,
more powerful then I ever dreamed.
And now I realize for the first time ever, likely to be alone forever.
There is no more wonderous equation then that of an honest heart!
All thanx to dayspring.
Yes Alfred, I have loved and lost
and for the good as well.
You see, the extension of my arm,
the offerring of my hand,
the opening of my heart,
is always an invitation into the heavens.
From which, I will not step down.
I can not step down.
I will not go down there again.
Down there into those dusty throes of mediocrity and safety.
The temporality of flesh.
A lifetime without velocity.
A lifetime without flow states.
Traded for a lifetime of fear and safety.
Ending in regret.
So it's loss again.
And to that I say good.
For I have only one master.
But for you Pygmalion, I have only one answer,
and it's now approaching from your six at mach 5!
Friday, October 17, 2008
Chapter 6: Ramp up
I'm coming through the bottom of the bell curve now
A violent swing upwards that's making straight my brow
and watery my eyes
I'm sure it won't take too many of such days to get over these cycles
But I'm here in it now
So let's run with it.
Let's use it to fight with
Let's shake with this rage
Every sinew ready
Every nerve on alert
Every part of my body mercurial with withdrawal
I recognize you Elke
Here again in different form
No less majestic then before
and scared
Those layers of emotional distance
fortified with layers of physical distance
and time
Hallmarks of the weak
I am not the man you encountered the first time
completely unaware of the trap you had no idea you were setting
I am no longer the man that steps into the binders having recognized the pattern
That fortress around my heart glistening and reaching into the heavens
Yet there is a door that will open for you if you commit.
I will always love you San,
whatever form you take,
my warrior princess,
Queen of Moro.
I am yours for the chasing.
The risk yours to take.
You can have me if you want me,
but the work is yours to do!
It's my heart that needs convincing
It's my path that you must follow
I have a fight to fight
come along side and throw
or bug out
A violent swing upwards that's making straight my brow
and watery my eyes
I'm sure it won't take too many of such days to get over these cycles
But I'm here in it now
So let's run with it.
Let's use it to fight with
Let's shake with this rage
Every sinew ready
Every nerve on alert
Every part of my body mercurial with withdrawal
I recognize you Elke
Here again in different form
No less majestic then before
and scared
Those layers of emotional distance
fortified with layers of physical distance
and time
Hallmarks of the weak
I am not the man you encountered the first time
completely unaware of the trap you had no idea you were setting
I am no longer the man that steps into the binders having recognized the pattern
That fortress around my heart glistening and reaching into the heavens
Yet there is a door that will open for you if you commit.
I will always love you San,
whatever form you take,
my warrior princess,
Queen of Moro.
I am yours for the chasing.
The risk yours to take.
You can have me if you want me,
but the work is yours to do!
It's my heart that needs convincing
It's my path that you must follow
I have a fight to fight
come along side and throw
or bug out
Below the layer
What a killer morning
In a lights out REM conveyance
through places far richer then here
Or up there at the surface in Everyday
Through those places I walked
That shop holding that brilliant man
at the floor of Carbon Canyon
"You are not there in the surface version!"
Yours: A wheeled sea of gray whatever
Dotted by those gems of 555
You: The emotive behind their motive!
"Yes sir, I will give them your love",
though I suspect it's only I that knows you.
WTF is wrong with me?!?
So I walk
stumbling into places that aren't known
Escape perhaps from being labelled as ugly
But I know that's not the case
These wanderings into dark dens
filled with purveyors of confusion and dred
Familiar, but not real
Fear generators in the interest of warning
But that's all behind by some ways
and the sun is out
Morning light on incarnadine formations
Afill with narrow passages and equipment
Those freindly and feminine modern alchemist
That spent assistant in wanna-be-jimmy-buffet
All setting me down into the cool embrace of friendly chatter
But from the aft decks of submerged boats
That urgent feeling grows strong
This comfort is bad!
That cooing about over Staggerwing drops
in a now transitioning background
fading away for good
In a lights out REM conveyance
through places far richer then here
Or up there at the surface in Everyday
Through those places I walked
That shop holding that brilliant man
at the floor of Carbon Canyon
"You are not there in the surface version!"
Yours: A wheeled sea of gray whatever
Dotted by those gems of 555
You: The emotive behind their motive!
"Yes sir, I will give them your love",
though I suspect it's only I that knows you.
WTF is wrong with me?!?
So I walk
stumbling into places that aren't known
Escape perhaps from being labelled as ugly
But I know that's not the case
These wanderings into dark dens
filled with purveyors of confusion and dred
Familiar, but not real
Fear generators in the interest of warning
But that's all behind by some ways
and the sun is out
Morning light on incarnadine formations
Afill with narrow passages and equipment
Those freindly and feminine modern alchemist
That spent assistant in wanna-be-jimmy-buffet
All setting me down into the cool embrace of friendly chatter
But from the aft decks of submerged boats
That urgent feeling grows strong
This comfort is bad!
That cooing about over Staggerwing drops
in a now transitioning background
fading away for good
Thursday, October 16, 2008
The plot thickens
I am definitely working a different modus these days. One that is not entirely stable. Near emotional extremes with brutal transitions. I'm not depressed, down, sad, or whatever, but I've certainly hit some lows. One of them dished out via my employer (tho in all honestly, not entirely their fault). The highs on the other hand have been stellar. These aren't merely contrived or the results of some chemical imbalance (:rofl:) either. Some absolutely wonderful things have happened.
I'm smiling even thinking about this stuff. I'm smiling even though I feel I'm on the edge of a precipice. Even though I feel empty and queasy.
Funny enough, even my workouts are affected by this whatever. Same goes for my diet. Some weeks back (about 4 now) I finally decided that I'm going to go back to doing what I know is right for me. Eating in a way that I know is good for my body. I'm not entirely sure I'm doing it right as I feel like I'm starving nearly all the time, but then I spent a good deal of my 20's feeling like I was starving. Tons and tons of water, fruit, vegetables, and some meat every now and then. I do know a heck of a lot more then I did back then so I've allready began to make appropriate adjustments.
The workouts on the other hand have become like an audience with a monster. A showcase of raw energy and aural rage. Funny that considering I have the hardest time just starting a workout. Once there however, I feel like Leonidas.
As a matter of fact, all of life has me feeling like Leonidas these days.
Maybe it's just when I slow down that the tears come.
Whatever the case, this is the onset of tumult. A time I know is going to require delicate steps.
But why all the fanfare when I know the answers?
I'm smiling even thinking about this stuff. I'm smiling even though I feel I'm on the edge of a precipice. Even though I feel empty and queasy.
Funny enough, even my workouts are affected by this whatever. Same goes for my diet. Some weeks back (about 4 now) I finally decided that I'm going to go back to doing what I know is right for me. Eating in a way that I know is good for my body. I'm not entirely sure I'm doing it right as I feel like I'm starving nearly all the time, but then I spent a good deal of my 20's feeling like I was starving. Tons and tons of water, fruit, vegetables, and some meat every now and then. I do know a heck of a lot more then I did back then so I've allready began to make appropriate adjustments.
The workouts on the other hand have become like an audience with a monster. A showcase of raw energy and aural rage. Funny that considering I have the hardest time just starting a workout. Once there however, I feel like Leonidas.
As a matter of fact, all of life has me feeling like Leonidas these days.
Maybe it's just when I slow down that the tears come.
Whatever the case, this is the onset of tumult. A time I know is going to require delicate steps.
But why all the fanfare when I know the answers?
Monday, October 13, 2008
This is what I'm talking about!
Redblocks fool!
That first Volvo, at full boost is making over 900 HP!
That first Volvo, at full boost is making over 900 HP!
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Garbage
And here I am again
Going qwerty to blast out a line of thought
A line of vanity
While the noise churns away in the background
That infernal smoke rising
"What am I doing here?"
The King of Speed
Destroyer of worlds
Crafter of logic
And most of all, one of those vain men
Yeah, it would appear my resolve is less then I thought
Less strong then the lyrical suggestions of lore and song
Bellicose and ridiculous rantings
Weighting nothing
But whatever the case, it's time to try again
Yeah, one more try
Because I know someone did not give up on me
To his very end with mouth shut
My friend
My master
Where has my heart been?
To where have my eyes wandered?
Going qwerty to blast out a line of thought
A line of vanity
While the noise churns away in the background
That infernal smoke rising
"What am I doing here?"
The King of Speed
Destroyer of worlds
Crafter of logic
And most of all, one of those vain men
Yeah, it would appear my resolve is less then I thought
Less strong then the lyrical suggestions of lore and song
Bellicose and ridiculous rantings
Weighting nothing
But whatever the case, it's time to try again
Yeah, one more try
Because I know someone did not give up on me
To his very end with mouth shut
My friend
My master
Where has my heart been?
To where have my eyes wandered?
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Chapter 4: redress
Not even yet dry,
I knew it was you the moment the phone rang!
--------------
"Bogey six! Bogey six!", screamed systems on both aircraft. About the same time, a jolt of electricity was blasted through the bodies of the pilots in their respective aircraft to make sure they woke. Anviyell in a state of shock as he came to the surface from an ocean of sleep to be pounded with the blaring alarms of an impending attack. BDKR yelling "Scopes! Scopes!" in a sudden blast of anger to get his aircraft to show the position and speed of the inbound relative to his own. Both aircraft autopilots aware of where they were in relation to one another and the inbound, and aware of the still groggy state of their drivers, neither of which had made any direct inputs into the controls, split in oppossing directions, engines at full mill with the cans lit. Ascending 6g reversals with trails of flares streaming aft.
"Inbound! Inbound!", voices screamed in both aircraft. BDKR, going left and half way through his reversal, his head cocked back peering into the darkness.
"Inbound Volley! Inbound Volley!", the systems once again yelled.
"What the hell?!", BDRK screamed into his mask. Anviyell registering about the same thought.
Flare streams now joined by chaff generators desperately spat ordinance in an effort to
confound the inbound vampires, completely unseen against the glistening reflections of the moon on the face of Davey Jones locker.
"Miss! Miss!" the systems screamed. Flashes of light blooming aft and below as both planes continued seperation and passed through 1.5.
"Spool plasma!", BDKR barked into the radio. "Two! Continue uphill! Call home!". Anviyell pulling the stick back a little farther and passing through 50K. BDKR, punched in a bit more left bank and a boot full of left rudder to help get his bird into a down hill attitude, idled the motors and popped the boards for a few moments as he unloaded the plane and the tail came over the top. Then the airframe shook and rumbled in a fit of dead serious rumble and buffet as he scrubbed speed and brought the nose up and around. A brief momment of eerie and peaceful bliss with nothing more then the groaning of the airframe, soothing electronic report from the flight systems, and that full moon night time ocean spread out below him. Small tufts of clounds in lazy formations glowing madly.
"I'm not going swimming tonight", he spoke softly, blinking to fight the blur from his eyes. He eased his pull, cleaned up, rolled nearly level, and pushed the throttles forward to stage 8 to
regain air speed. The engines roaring back to life. The spatial display in the heads up going fuzzy as he realized that the first salvo masked a huge chaff discharge.
"Ha haaa... I got something for you", he smirked. "Pickle p spread", he muttered in a voice a lot less demanding and far more smug then only moments before. A volley of 5 small missles racing forward from his aircraft tracking to a point sure the cover the attackers plot of highest probablity and exploding into huge clouds of magnetic and luminescent paint. Billowing bluish green and eerily for a moment before a shape blasted through it in a heading that brought it
low to his left and passing aft.
"YEEAAAHHHH!!!!!", BDKR growled as he rolled nearly inverted and pulled. "Tallyho! Devil at 11 o'clock low heading 090."
"Jason Jason Jason. Tokyo Delta Brainchild. Domino flight in furball with one. Spool the fountains!", Anviyell spoke to Indie Station for the Atlantic BG.
"Copy Domino flight", came a cool reply. "Package in route".
BDKR was now pulling 9 g's to bring the random on target while activating the camera zoom. "Why does that plane look so familiar?", he said as the image came to life in the HUD.
"Don't tell me you know this gomer", responded Anviyell.
"Sorry, but I do. It's Dido!"
--------------
Why, Elishat, have you come back?
Can I stand more longing?
Are you ready to fight?
I knew it was you the moment the phone rang!
--------------
"Bogey six! Bogey six!", screamed systems on both aircraft. About the same time, a jolt of electricity was blasted through the bodies of the pilots in their respective aircraft to make sure they woke. Anviyell in a state of shock as he came to the surface from an ocean of sleep to be pounded with the blaring alarms of an impending attack. BDKR yelling "Scopes! Scopes!" in a sudden blast of anger to get his aircraft to show the position and speed of the inbound relative to his own. Both aircraft autopilots aware of where they were in relation to one another and the inbound, and aware of the still groggy state of their drivers, neither of which had made any direct inputs into the controls, split in oppossing directions, engines at full mill with the cans lit. Ascending 6g reversals with trails of flares streaming aft.
"Inbound! Inbound!", voices screamed in both aircraft. BDKR, going left and half way through his reversal, his head cocked back peering into the darkness.
"Inbound Volley! Inbound Volley!", the systems once again yelled.
"What the hell?!", BDRK screamed into his mask. Anviyell registering about the same thought.
Flare streams now joined by chaff generators desperately spat ordinance in an effort to
confound the inbound vampires, completely unseen against the glistening reflections of the moon on the face of Davey Jones locker.
"Miss! Miss!" the systems screamed. Flashes of light blooming aft and below as both planes continued seperation and passed through 1.5.
"Spool plasma!", BDKR barked into the radio. "Two! Continue uphill! Call home!". Anviyell pulling the stick back a little farther and passing through 50K. BDKR, punched in a bit more left bank and a boot full of left rudder to help get his bird into a down hill attitude, idled the motors and popped the boards for a few moments as he unloaded the plane and the tail came over the top. Then the airframe shook and rumbled in a fit of dead serious rumble and buffet as he scrubbed speed and brought the nose up and around. A brief momment of eerie and peaceful bliss with nothing more then the groaning of the airframe, soothing electronic report from the flight systems, and that full moon night time ocean spread out below him. Small tufts of clounds in lazy formations glowing madly.
"I'm not going swimming tonight", he spoke softly, blinking to fight the blur from his eyes. He eased his pull, cleaned up, rolled nearly level, and pushed the throttles forward to stage 8 to
regain air speed. The engines roaring back to life. The spatial display in the heads up going fuzzy as he realized that the first salvo masked a huge chaff discharge.
"Ha haaa... I got something for you", he smirked. "Pickle p spread", he muttered in a voice a lot less demanding and far more smug then only moments before. A volley of 5 small missles racing forward from his aircraft tracking to a point sure the cover the attackers plot of highest probablity and exploding into huge clouds of magnetic and luminescent paint. Billowing bluish green and eerily for a moment before a shape blasted through it in a heading that brought it
low to his left and passing aft.
"YEEAAAHHHH!!!!!", BDKR growled as he rolled nearly inverted and pulled. "Tallyho! Devil at 11 o'clock low heading 090."
"Jason Jason Jason. Tokyo Delta Brainchild. Domino flight in furball with one. Spool the fountains!", Anviyell spoke to Indie Station for the Atlantic BG.
"Copy Domino flight", came a cool reply. "Package in route".
BDKR was now pulling 9 g's to bring the random on target while activating the camera zoom. "Why does that plane look so familiar?", he said as the image came to life in the HUD.
"Don't tell me you know this gomer", responded Anviyell.
"Sorry, but I do. It's Dido!"
--------------
Why, Elishat, have you come back?
Can I stand more longing?
Are you ready to fight?
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Famine
Logic
That cold and unwavering freind
Loyal to the end
Stronger even then my very heart
That synonym for my love for you
Against the blackness of night
and the cruelty of a peircing ocean breeze
you let me hold you.
Pleasure not known for ages,
the mere embrace.
And like an image from Klimt,
I cradled your head close to my chest.
Slowly nuzzling and melding
Sounding into the deepest sea of intimacy.
Again, I was where dreamt.
Logic says,
"Dearest Elissa,
Siren of Anatolia
Queen of Carthage
The borders of my heart are boundless
and of depth without end
Yours for the sounding
Please don't paint my heart green
or cash in on my emotion.
Please don't say that "That" kiss was for not".
That cold and unwavering freind
Loyal to the end
Stronger even then my very heart
That synonym for my love for you
Against the blackness of night
and the cruelty of a peircing ocean breeze
you let me hold you.
Pleasure not known for ages,
the mere embrace.
And like an image from Klimt,
I cradled your head close to my chest.
Slowly nuzzling and melding
Sounding into the deepest sea of intimacy.
Again, I was where dreamt.
Logic says,
"Dearest Elissa,
Siren of Anatolia
Queen of Carthage
The borders of my heart are boundless
and of depth without end
Yours for the sounding
Please don't paint my heart green
or cash in on my emotion.
Please don't say that "That" kiss was for not".
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Code Igniter
ROCKS!!!!!
I've always respected it more then the other gigantor frameworks, but now that I'm using it for VFBG, I just can't be happier.
I've always respected it more then the other gigantor frameworks, but now that I'm using it for VFBG, I just can't be happier.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
The VFBG lives!
VFBG net and org are already resolving! I updated the name servers with the registrar not more then 90 minutes back.
Righteous stuff that mate!
Righteous stuff that mate!
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Just some pics
A guy I know name John Lane rally races a Volvo 240. Here is a killer pic of it.
That's just gorgeous!
On a different front, I'm starting the site for the VFBG. Here's a screen shot from my laptop.
Nice and clean. Black and with with a simple gradient.
Forget to add this earlier: The first picture is from Kanokus Photography. The are at http://www.kanokusphotography.com/. Check 'em out!
That's just gorgeous!
On a different front, I'm starting the site for the VFBG. Here's a screen shot from my laptop.
Nice and clean. Black and with with a simple gradient.
Forget to add this earlier: The first picture is from Kanokus Photography. The are at http://www.kanokusphotography.com/. Check 'em out!
Monday, September 29, 2008
Chapter 4: Love and ACM
And now I'm here!
Fully committed!
Fully engaged!
Gleaming titanium curvy in area rule,
covering spinning and pounding hearts of the most cool and calculating rage.
Glorious logic and amalgams of human interest and metallurgy.
The roar of those hearts grandeurous and terrible.
Wings as strong my savior himself.
The nimbus tremble and applaud.
The birds dive.
Don't throw stones at sleeping lions my dear.
Don't wake my longing.
A monster of incredible power,
unfelled from these skies.
Many waters have never defeated true love,
nor will they!
That monster at my very core bellowing his constant din
The shock waves rippling outward
Those shoulders, bristling with a barely controlled energy,
and concern.
To my equal: do I not term you as "My Equal"?
I challenge you to commit!
You've tempted.
You've hinted.
You've prodded.
Now commit, and know the most incredible dog fight you will ever know.
I am now awake and sparkling with rage.
I an now high in the heavens and unloading over the top
Those motive power plants, emotive and crushing, nominal and at 100 percent
My random on target
That final step, to answer the growling of that missle,
desiring much to fly.
That missle hard wired to my heart.
I have only to fire.
So to my equal, I bid you commit
And if not, bug out!
And be good at the bugging!
Your next query aloft will meet with apathy!
Fully committed!
Fully engaged!
Gleaming titanium curvy in area rule,
covering spinning and pounding hearts of the most cool and calculating rage.
Glorious logic and amalgams of human interest and metallurgy.
The roar of those hearts grandeurous and terrible.
Wings as strong my savior himself.
The nimbus tremble and applaud.
The birds dive.
Don't throw stones at sleeping lions my dear.
Don't wake my longing.
A monster of incredible power,
unfelled from these skies.
Many waters have never defeated true love,
nor will they!
That monster at my very core bellowing his constant din
The shock waves rippling outward
Those shoulders, bristling with a barely controlled energy,
and concern.
To my equal: do I not term you as "My Equal"?
I challenge you to commit!
You've tempted.
You've hinted.
You've prodded.
Now commit, and know the most incredible dog fight you will ever know.
I am now awake and sparkling with rage.
I an now high in the heavens and unloading over the top
Those motive power plants, emotive and crushing, nominal and at 100 percent
My random on target
That final step, to answer the growling of that missle,
desiring much to fly.
That missle hard wired to my heart.
I have only to fire.
So to my equal, I bid you commit
And if not, bug out!
And be good at the bugging!
Your next query aloft will meet with apathy!
Friday, September 26, 2008
Chapter 3
I have more then enough fuel for this trip
so I'll enjoy the climb out, afterburners alight.
The lights of the Canaries twinkling to the South West.
I should never have been here.
Here, in Baal-Peor.
Haunted by the wondrous scents of Solomons downfall.
The blood of Phinehas courses through me!
What else should I have wanted?
What else could I have needed?
My truest love, an anchor in reality and eternity
The provider of what's timely and needful,
however temporal.
Let the set of my brow not waver.
Know this, fellow wrestlers, that I am yet uncommitted.
Having not known, I still hoped that she would see as did Ruth
And still do even now
But I will not give chase!
Only bits of data, as seeds towards a future germination, should it occur.
A hopeful blossom sprouting from good ground,
born for the endeavor.
So let's let the engines sing
and head downhill
Those small lights out there on the water:
vessels full of souls that will only hear
as we blast Red Route 1 just over the water
Southward to the West Indies
Where I am placed by the kind hands of my truest love.
so I'll enjoy the climb out, afterburners alight.
The lights of the Canaries twinkling to the South West.
I should never have been here.
Here, in Baal-Peor.
Haunted by the wondrous scents of Solomons downfall.
The blood of Phinehas courses through me!
What else should I have wanted?
What else could I have needed?
My truest love, an anchor in reality and eternity
The provider of what's timely and needful,
however temporal.
Let the set of my brow not waver.
Know this, fellow wrestlers, that I am yet uncommitted.
Having not known, I still hoped that she would see as did Ruth
And still do even now
But I will not give chase!
Only bits of data, as seeds towards a future germination, should it occur.
A hopeful blossom sprouting from good ground,
born for the endeavor.
So let's let the engines sing
and head downhill
Those small lights out there on the water:
vessels full of souls that will only hear
as we blast Red Route 1 just over the water
Southward to the West Indies
Where I am placed by the kind hands of my truest love.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Bent is kinda screwing with me here
With you in my garden
its more peaceful inside
I don’t need anything else
to make me feel alive
You electrify me
And I want to be in your arms
for always
for always
Our love is swollen
Made of the quietest shade of loud
Holds me like an anchor
Floats just like a cloud
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
More love
I think the Hello Kitty sticker is a nice touch.
Steps taken:
1) Bead blast
2) Clean with acetone
3) 2 coats of VHT header paint
4) Light sanding with paper towel
5) 2 more coats of header paint
6) Cured in the oven (three step process)
7) 4 coats of Duplicolor High Temp Clear
8) Light sanding with paper towel.
It looks a lot better the picture suggests.
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