What if I sat down on the sidewalk and refused to get up until I was dragged away? How would that go? How long would it take for the cops or somebody to come and pick me up and drag me into a police car or an ambulance...take me to jail or the hospital... I would just sit there and not say a thing. Not even make eye contact with people trying to help me. Would I freeze to death out there? Die of thirst? I guess I'd pass out if I didn't have enough water. Two days at the most? Or would somebody bring me some water, but not take me least - not immediately... "While we arrange for his 'living quarters,' let's make sure he doesn't die out there on the sidewalk. Give him a blanket."

I post this video in the spirit of Christmas. It's a tribute to Kraftwerk done by Senor Coconut - which is like taking weird and multiplying it by weird. This reminds me of Coleman's Nursery at Christmas time (A Portsmouth, Virginia thing, Dog. But I guess every town has something like it). Coleman's Nursery would set up robotic Christmas figures in snowy, festive scenes: elves would hammer away at toys, and there were bucking reindeer, if I remember correctly, and a gyrating Santa and Mrs. Clause. . . just like . . . motorized, three-or-four-foot-tall dolls, badly in need of lubrication, moving around and stuff, sayin "Ho ho ho," squeek, gear grind, spark, buzz, hydraulic sound etc and so on...and they charged admission and little kids found it delightful and terrific and the nursery also sold plants, of course, year around, and mulch and fertilizer and so on. That place was great until it damn near burned completely to the ground - even though it was right next door to the Portsmouth Fire Department - NO JOKE.

Every time I leave home and visit a different town, I wonder whether I could make it in that new town. Where would I live? Where I would work? If it is a pretty rural place, jobs would probably be scarce. I might not be able to find a cushy cubicle job with an all day internet connection. I have no skills. I would have to scramble for my living. I'd have to take whatever I could get out in the country.

Maybe I’d become a truck driver. I’d buy up every book on CD I could and listen to them during long hauls. I'd listen to foreign language lessons on CD. I’d get an audio recorder and babble into that thing all day. Do truckers still have CB’s? Talking on a CB would be like going in a chatroom.

Maybe I would start a business. I tell you - one service that is needed in some of the counties around where I live - these people need somebody to haul the junk off their land. I mean: You’re driving through the country, and it’s all scenic and serene, and suddenly there’s a yard with all kinds of crap strewn all over: washing machines, old cars, rusty old tractors, trailers missing wheels... Maybe I’d get a roll-back wrecker and just haul junk to the junk yard. Or I’d sell vintage auto parts on the internet. Ching!

I don't know...what else do they do out in the country? Logging? I don’t know if I could do logging. I would saw my own leg off or hit somebody with a falling tree or get mauled by a bear or beaten up by other loggers or something. And I don’t like the idea of cutting down trees, I guess that sounds...whatever...

It seems that if you buy the right machine, you can really make a lot of loot. Just buy a machine and start a business. Pressure washing or something like that. Tiller? ...for some tilling? Whatever.

What would you do if you uprooted and then planted somewhere new?

... and I posted this Prefuse 73 video because it's cool.


I was sitting in a room at work, waiting for a meeting to get started the other day, and a lady seated across from me was wearing a really stylish shirt with Japanese characters printed all over it with palm trees and huts and so on. The lady who was sitting next to her was actually Japanese. She said to her, "Thats a cool shirt."

Then the Japanese lady started to translate the characters printed on the shirt. She would point and say, "This means love." "This means beauty."


Driving around, running errands on Saturdays, sometimes I'll see a person walking beside the road. I'll run my errands, and then I'll go home. Hours later, I'll go out again and run more errands, and I will see that same person walking. He'll be in a different place from where I'd first seen him, of course, but I'll think, wow, that guy's been walking all day, and he's only gotten from there to there? Then I'll calculate the distance in my head along with his apparent walking speed... did he maybe stop for lunch or a drink... and then I'll realize, yep, that's about how far you'd get. I have actually been that guy - that walking guy. Without a car. Walking really really far.

* * *

I remember a day, a Christmas day, when I was driving across town to my sister's place for dinner. It was snowing out and very windy. I drove onto this bridge, and halfway across, I saw an elderly woman bundled up, walking across the bridge in the wind and the snow. She looked pretty frail, and she was hunched over, and I wasn't really sure how far she was going to make it in that weather. I turned around - but before I could get to her, two or three other cars had already turned around to offer her a ride, and she had her pick of drivers to ride with.


JUST TURN THE THING ON AND START TYPING: Daylight savings ends, fall back, do I know what time it is: I've been blogging five and a half years. I've been in Florida for a year and a half. I'm cold this morning. I have a sweater on. And shorts. I woke up and I can't go back to sleep. It’s Sunday. Normallly I'd get up and start getting ready for work except I don't work on Sundays. There’s definitely work to do. I could go to work right now - there’d be plenty to do. Managers would be glad. There might be somebody there working right now. Who knows? My cubicle neighbor said she was coming in today (yeah right [maybe, actually]). Overtime is allowed. The money is needed because of the upcoming holidays.

Starting tomorrow, Monday, when I leave work, it will be dark outside for sure - even if I leave on time. I've been leaving work late - in the dark hours anyway - with all the overtime. I leave home to go to work when it's dark, and on my way home from work, it's dark. The only daylight I see is at lunch time or when I sneak outside for breaks - breaks that used to be smoke breaks - but which are now just sunlight breaks or stand in the rain breaks. I have been off cigarettes six years.

It's time for the inevitable seasonal depression. It comes about because of the lower temperatures. It comes about because of the upcoming holidays. I get depressed because I can never seem to get the right gifts for all the people on my list. I can’t even get my list right. Some people are no longer on the list. There are new people on the list. Some people on the list - I have no idea what to get them.


The more I work in administrative jobs, the more I realize that it is the perfect type of work for me. I don't have the attention to detail - or the stamina or discipline to maintain the attention to detail required for something like accounting or tech. I space out at work. I can work really fast! Believe me. But I do space out. Way way out. The operations of the whole organization won't slam into a wall over some little slip up on my part. Administrative duties can be varied - so it keeps my attention - in that I have to be aware of some new curve or hump - some new flow of work or new task or new little project. Respond to this email. Track this issue. Enter this data. Approve or deny all these forms. Move these files around. Check or uncheck these boxes in this computer application thingy. Answer the phone. Ignore the phone. Talk to some person - like a live person - standin there. Talk to it. Whatever. So . . . until I get my job as a _____, what, an action adventure hero correspondent world traveling sucka assassinatah astronaughtic under water super aquatic lounge singing professional footballin space alien administrative gig will have to do - the money ain't there, but hey, I only worry about money when I ain't got none.
This is a video by Four Tet

It's not that I'm lazy, it's not that I'm waiting around to die, I'm just not that into making all that money - the folks at work, the spouses of the folks at work, their kids - the other side of the family - - they are the money makingest mover shakingest consumers in the land, but they never make or take enough. Me, I'm not saying I occupy some perfect peaceful contented place, but I'm just not motivated (not less not more) the same as the people I see around me - - or maybe I just don't understand the people around me - they seem to just talk about products - the products they want to buy or that they already own or the products they owned in the past: this car this purse this shoe this TV this computer this jogging suit this saw this lotion this curtain - - but if I was so superior - which I know I'm not superior -- sometimes you want to think you're at least different, maybe better at certain things, not others - but if I was trying to say that I was worth it, worthy, worth something - worth it not to just scoff at dismiss - but - I mean - I'm who I am, but why haven't I found IT - IT - it that I'm saying I should be all about - why am I not happy - like happy more - do I even want to be happy - why no friends - why yelling fuck in traffic - why wannabe - why not be - I'm not an academic, I'm not nothing I see around me, I should define myself, I should set goals, or no, maybe I should just loosely define a routine and stick to it - try not to get in trouble - 'decorate' a wall not and then.