Myspace's Tom was an uber-hacker back in the 80s!!!!!! all of a sudden, I like him way better than i did before.
http://www.techcrunch.com/2008/08/30/myspace-cofounder-tom-anderson-was-a-real-life-wargames-hacker-in-1980s/
Saturday, August 30, 2008
holiday
Let’s go away for a while
You and I
To a strange and distant land
Where they speak no word of truth
But we don’t understand anyway
HOL-I-DAY
Far away
So… I decided, against my better judgment to take a trip down memory lane. Actually, a drive…A drive down Mayfield Rd., to be exact. And now, I write this, as I sit here in Phoenix Coffee on Coventry (what used to be a caribou) and look across the way at Bodega (what used to be Utrecht) and think. And get nostalgic. And wonder, who the hell I am today.
While Kathryn and Andrew may not understand this—and there goes most of my principal audience—Coming to Coventry is more of a homecoming than going home is for me. Andrew and Kathryn probably won’t understand this—and so, there goes most of my audience—but Bainbridge was never really my home. Oh, sure, I lived there for 22 years or so (minus several spent in Columbus, of course)…but really, it was just the place that my family was. Part of it is, of course, because I went to Gilmour and not Kentston. I only really had 1 friend who lived in Bainbridge—Mike. And while he is by far my oldest friend, most of our time together was not spent in Bainbridge either. No…that’s one reason why I tell people I’m from Chagrin Falls. I spent much more time there, drinking horrendous amounts of coffee at YT, then I ever did at home.
But really, once I had my own car, I spent all my time out this way. Cleveland Heights. Coventry. Home. I have always felt very comfortable here. Like it is a place I belong. And even returning here for the first time in a very long time—I think Kevin and I ate at Tommy’s sometime earlier this year, but I can’t quite remember right now—I feel good here. Even tho the fucking Greatful Dead is playing on the radio, I feel like this is where I’m from. I can’t explain it.
I’ve said that Columbus feels more like my home now than Cleveland does, but I’m beginning to realize that’s not quite true. I have, in fact, grown to like Columbus for several reasons… 1. I feel like I have a life there. In Cleveland, in Bainbridge, I have no life. I have my family’s life. I hang out around the house, go into chagrin, eat too many cookies, and watch too much tv. But in Columbus, I have my life. I had my apartment. I had my routine. I had my places. Separate from my family. Entirely. In fact, they never came to visit me. Well, maybe once. But far less than they ever visited Kathryn. Of course, she lives way father away, and she rarely comes home any more. But still, it was nice being separate.
But now, being back in Coventry, I feel right here. And its weird that I should feel this way. Because Coventry is barely what it was when I was here. Arabica is gone, replaced with neo-grog shop. The Centrum is gone, for all intents and purposes. The people are too old. And, most importantly, no one I know is here. No Marta. No Sara. No Lowell. No random encounters with Marta’s friends. And me, sitting here with my coffee and my Mac. It’s all different…But I don’t feel awkward… Like I so often do. (Aside: I feel awkward like 90% of the time. I never know what to say, what to do, how to behave, ugh).
Why? Because Coventry is where I had a life. I had my own life. I had my friends. My places. My routine. Not my family. I love them; they’re great. But I don’t want their life. I need my own life.
And this settles this. I need to move. I need to move from my parents’ house. Columbus is a good enough way point, but I need to go further. If I didn’t have all this pesky debt, I’d seriously consider just packing up and going. Any fucking where. I want to go over seas. I want my own life.
This blog has gone on far too long. Anyone who may even ever check this has certainly given up reading by now. But this is my confessional. I realize that no one I know will ever care about this things I have to write. That’s why I don’t tell people a lot of what I’m thinking. I always forget that people don’t really want the long version (Andrew had to speed me up today while I was telling something about a legal case). But I get why people go to therapists: Because they have something to say, and it’s nice to have someone to listen who cares. Even if that care is fake, or at least paid for.
You and I
To a strange and distant land
Where they speak no word of truth
But we don’t understand anyway
HOL-I-DAY
Far away
So… I decided, against my better judgment to take a trip down memory lane. Actually, a drive…A drive down Mayfield Rd., to be exact. And now, I write this, as I sit here in Phoenix Coffee on Coventry (what used to be a caribou) and look across the way at Bodega (what used to be Utrecht) and think. And get nostalgic. And wonder, who the hell I am today.
While Kathryn and Andrew may not understand this—and there goes most of my principal audience—Coming to Coventry is more of a homecoming than going home is for me. Andrew and Kathryn probably won’t understand this—and so, there goes most of my audience—but Bainbridge was never really my home. Oh, sure, I lived there for 22 years or so (minus several spent in Columbus, of course)…but really, it was just the place that my family was. Part of it is, of course, because I went to Gilmour and not Kentston. I only really had 1 friend who lived in Bainbridge—Mike. And while he is by far my oldest friend, most of our time together was not spent in Bainbridge either. No…that’s one reason why I tell people I’m from Chagrin Falls. I spent much more time there, drinking horrendous amounts of coffee at YT, then I ever did at home.
But really, once I had my own car, I spent all my time out this way. Cleveland Heights. Coventry. Home. I have always felt very comfortable here. Like it is a place I belong. And even returning here for the first time in a very long time—I think Kevin and I ate at Tommy’s sometime earlier this year, but I can’t quite remember right now—I feel good here. Even tho the fucking Greatful Dead is playing on the radio, I feel like this is where I’m from. I can’t explain it.
I’ve said that Columbus feels more like my home now than Cleveland does, but I’m beginning to realize that’s not quite true. I have, in fact, grown to like Columbus for several reasons… 1. I feel like I have a life there. In Cleveland, in Bainbridge, I have no life. I have my family’s life. I hang out around the house, go into chagrin, eat too many cookies, and watch too much tv. But in Columbus, I have my life. I had my apartment. I had my routine. I had my places. Separate from my family. Entirely. In fact, they never came to visit me. Well, maybe once. But far less than they ever visited Kathryn. Of course, she lives way father away, and she rarely comes home any more. But still, it was nice being separate.
But now, being back in Coventry, I feel right here. And its weird that I should feel this way. Because Coventry is barely what it was when I was here. Arabica is gone, replaced with neo-grog shop. The Centrum is gone, for all intents and purposes. The people are too old. And, most importantly, no one I know is here. No Marta. No Sara. No Lowell. No random encounters with Marta’s friends. And me, sitting here with my coffee and my Mac. It’s all different…But I don’t feel awkward… Like I so often do. (Aside: I feel awkward like 90% of the time. I never know what to say, what to do, how to behave, ugh).
Why? Because Coventry is where I had a life. I had my own life. I had my friends. My places. My routine. Not my family. I love them; they’re great. But I don’t want their life. I need my own life.
And this settles this. I need to move. I need to move from my parents’ house. Columbus is a good enough way point, but I need to go further. If I didn’t have all this pesky debt, I’d seriously consider just packing up and going. Any fucking where. I want to go over seas. I want my own life.
This blog has gone on far too long. Anyone who may even ever check this has certainly given up reading by now. But this is my confessional. I realize that no one I know will ever care about this things I have to write. That’s why I don’t tell people a lot of what I’m thinking. I always forget that people don’t really want the long version (Andrew had to speed me up today while I was telling something about a legal case). But I get why people go to therapists: Because they have something to say, and it’s nice to have someone to listen who cares. Even if that care is fake, or at least paid for.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
sick and goddamn tired
I'm a little sick and goddamn tired of hearing Bela Legosi, I mean Karoli, say that the Chinese Girls Gymnastic team is underage. And i'm even more tired of hearing everyone in the US parrot the same back. Yes, I get it... they look young. And hell, they may even be under 16. Who knows. I sure as shit don't. But what annoys me about it is that i am 100% convinced it is driven by fear and pissed-off ness of the US by being bested by Red China. Yup. Fucking cold war all over again. Look at the commies. Commie cheaters. Fucking commie cheaters. Fucking red cheater bastards who have little girls gymnasts who are better than our little girl gymnasts. You know what? The men's team was fucking awesome, right? And no one said they were under age. In fact, I think I noticed that one of those dudes was 29. My age. like way older than any of the americans. And they rocked. why? Maybe because they have a great team will hella skill. Cooozaaaaeeeie, huh? Maybe the little girls are just good? Maybe... fuck.
I always like the olympics in theory, but then they come on, and it strikes me that they should be about the world coming together in friendly competition, but instead they are world politics at their worst. Look how much better than we are than every other country in the world!!! Look!!!! LOOOK!! We have more medals. Michael Phelps is a fucking mer-man (dad MER-MAN!) Look how hot-sauce our girls beach volley ball team is! Look!!! and the worst is "look how different and weird the chinese commies are. fucking red china." The Olympics should be about bringing the world together, not about tearing it apart even more than it already is. These should not be our champions--national avatars--but they should be our representatives...the people who speak a universal language of sport. Who show that we are more similar than different. It shouldn't be about fucking medal counts. Or whatever. goddamn. But instead all I get to hear all day is how different china is from the US. Fine. I get it. fucking commies. Better dead than red, right? gaaaahhhh.
This world is so fucked up. True, this world has always been fucked up. but I've always wanted to believe that we are headed for better times, not worse. I've always wanted to believe that man has good in him... but just like darth vader, he is more machine now than man...twisted and evil. But there is good in him, I've felt it. I'm losing hope. All i see is people who can't see beyond their own noses. Who have these disturbingly narrow world views.
Ahhh... and so it comes back to the midwest. Its no secret that I think that midwesterners have a particularly bad problem with narrow world views. From my observational research, midwesterners tend to be from teh midwest, grow up in the midwest, and never, ever move out of the midwest. And all around them are other people from the midwest. They are born, grow up, live, and die all without ever realizing, or caring, of what the rest of the world is like. And i think that's a problem. I know that my own world view is disgustingly narrow. I try to broaden my horizons. I try to stay open to anything new. but I'm bad at it. I too like comfort. I like knowing what I know. (I know what I'll know. I'll say what I say...). But I need it to end. I need to escape. I need to grow up.... and maybe the only way to do that is move far the hell away. who knows?
sigh. this was supposed to be a quickie...and like all my stream of consciousness rants, it went around and around and wound up at me feeling sorry for myself. oh well. I think all i really want to say is, shut the fuck up, bela (legosi) Karoli. Go back to your crypt. (does anyone else think he sounds like dracula?)
Sunday, August 03, 2008
check it out
This is frighteningly accurate. honestly. think about it.
In other news, my bike hit a new top speed for it today. 41.64 mph. damn, i love her. she needs a name, tho. hrmmmm
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