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Below are the 19 most recent journal entries recorded in
zinjanthropus' LiveJournal:
| Sunday, November 1st, 2009 | | 2:54 pm |
Not a good year, sib-wise
Jim's gone missing. Last Friday he told the landlady at his group home he "was going up to L.A. to meet his brother." Well, that's a complete fabrication (the meeting me part), so nobody knows where he's gone or why. He left most of his belongings and and took maybe a couple hundred dollars. Sigh, shit. | | Thursday, September 10th, 2009 | | 12:00 pm |
Star Drek
(Familiar Star Trek theme music begins)
SPAAAAACE - The Final Frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship
*BOOBYPRIZE*. Its five year mission - to sell T-shirts, toy phasers,
plastic communicators, and anything else we can think of. To seek
out new life in old plots and complications. To boldly go where
EVERYONE HAS GONE BEFORE!
(Music Surge)
S T A R D R E K !
JERK: Captain's log, stardate 6935.2. We are in orbit around the planet
Shwartz.
SNOTT: Engineering to Captain Jerk! Engineering to Captain Jerk!!
JERK: Jerk here, what is it Snotty?
SNOTT: Captain, the warp drive mechanisms are generating excess
antimatter. The pods are overloadin' now, if it continues at this rate,
I canna be responsible for the safety of the ship!
JERK: Don't have a spaz, Snotty.
SNOTT: Ach, but the whole ship's gonna blow itself to pieces, Jim!
JERK: I WANT ANSWERS MISTER!
SNOTT: Well, I tried shovin' a wiener in the warp drive, but it dinna
do a bit of good. By the by, would ya have a wee bit of mustard up on
the bridge?
JERK: Mr. Schlock?
SCHLOCK: No mustard, Captain.
JERK: Analysis, Schlock?
SCHLOCK: It would appear that Lieutenant Snott is about to eat a wiener
without mustard.
JERK: As always, your logic is impeccable, Mr. Schlock. However, I was
referring to the emergency in the ship's warp drive.
SCHLOCK: I would say that the program is at too early a stage to permit
solving any serious difficulties, Jim.
JERK: Recommendation?
SCHLOCK: Suggest you wait for further plot complication before undertaking
corrective measures.
JERK: Logical, Mr. Schlock. Perfectly logical. Dr. McCoy?
McCOY: I'M A DOCTOR, NOT A SCRIPTWRITER!
COMPUTER: WARNING! This is a plot complication!
WARNING! This is a plot complication!
WARNING! This is a plot complication!
SCHLOCK: Plot complication showing up on ship's sensors now, Captain.
I am switching to visual...
JERK: What is it, Mr. Schlock?
SCHLOCK: Computer data coming in now, Captain. It's just what we need --
a colossal negative space wedgie of great power coming right at us at
warp speed.
JERK: Uh, Mr. Lulu, commence evasive action!
LULU: Yesss, Captain Jerrrrrk.
SCHLOCK: Evasive action ineffective, Captain. The wedgie is turning
with us and closing rapidly. Estimated time of impact approximately
16.9 seconds. 15...
JERK: Bridge to Engineering!
SCHLOCK: 14... 13...
SNOTT: Snott here, Captain.
SCHLOCK: 12... 11...
JERK: What's not there, Snotty?
SCHLOCK: 10... 9...
SNOTT: I said, SNOTT HERE, CAPTAIN!
SCHLOCK: 8... 7...
JERK: Snotty, give me full power! Get us out of here fast!
SCHLOCK: 6... 5...
SNOTT: Ach, I canna do it. The toilets have backed up into the warp drive!
It will take time to make repairs!
SCHLOCK: 4... 3...
JERK: Time? Mr. Schlock?
SCHLOCK: 2... 1... WIPEOUT!
* C R A S H * * B O O M * * S P L A T *
SCHLOCK: Readings are off the scale, Captain! I have not encountered
this phenomenon before.
JERK: Damage report! Lieutenant Manura?
MANURA: I dunno, but I say we took a shellackin' out here!
SCHLOCK: Fascinating.
JERK: What is it, Mr. Schlock?
SCHLOCK: The force seems to have passed though us, and entered the surface
of the planet Shwartz. Yet, tricorder readings fail to indicate any such
energy from the planet.
JERK: Opinion, Mr. Schlock?
SCHLOCK: Insufficient data, Captain.
JERK: Into the elevator, Mr. Schlock! Let's beam down to the planet's
surface so I can find an alien to fall in love with before the program is
over!
SCHLOCK: You usually do.
JERK: Ain't I somethin'! Uh, Mr. Lulu, you've got the conn.
LULU: Thaaaank yeew, Captain Jerkkkkkk!
(PFFFT! The door opens...)
JERK: Elevator, transporter room.
ELEVATOR: I'm fine, how are you?
JERK: ELEVATOR, I SAID TRANSPORTER ROOM!
ELEVATOR: I'm fine, how are you?
JERK: Oh, forget it! Elevator to Engineering! Beam us down from here,
Snotty!
SNOTT: Aye aye, Captain! You are locked on coordinates now.
JERK: Energize, Mr. Snott.
(Standard transporter noises, fade to city traffic noises in background)
SCHLOCK: Remarkable! There is no record of any such civilization as this
on the planet Shwartz.
JERK: Look, Schlock! Here comes a car... feast your Vulcan squinties on
that driver!
(Car screeches to a stop)
SCHLOCK: Far out, Captain Jerk.
GIRL: Want a lift, sailor?
JERK: As a matter of fact, I do. I'll say 'goodbye' here, Mr. Schlock.
Now you will have what you always wanted -- command of the BOOBYPRIZE!
SCHLOCK: And you will have what you always wanted...
JERK: What's that, Mr. Schlock?
SCHLOCK: A bleached blond in red convertible on planet Shwartz.
JERK: Ain't I somethin'! Well, say 'bye-bye' to Starfleet command for me,
and I will see you on 'Hollywood Squares'!
SCHLOCK: Bye-bye, Jim.
(Sound of car driving off)
SCHLOCK: I thought he would never go.
(Sound of communicator opening)
SCHLOCK: Schlock to BOOBYPRIZE!
SNOTT: Snott here, Mr. Schlock.
SCHLOCK: What's not there, Lieutenant Snott?
SNOTT: I said, SNOTT HERE, MISTER SCHLOCK!
SCHLOCK: That's CAPTAIN Schlock.
SNOTT: Aye?
SCHLOCK: Make it ONE to beam up!
(Music surge) | | Friday, August 28th, 2009 | | 2:19 pm |
Monday's child likes cor anglais, Tuesday's child likes Georges Bizet, Wednesday's child just loves Rameau, Thursday's child plays the oboe Friday's child is moving and Gigue-ing, Saturday's child LedZep's for a living, But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day Is Sonny and Cher and Marvin Gaye | | Monday, July 13th, 2009 | | 10:27 am |
free phone calls
I signed up for skype the other day, and managed to have a free phone call complete with video with another skype user in New York state. That was pretty cool. Hopefully others who might be far away can sign up, too. Downside is that it still has some scalability issues. And it costs you to call to a real phone (cell or land line). | | Saturday, July 11th, 2009 | | 3:25 pm |
post vitam
They are any minute now going to remove my sister Martha from the ventilator, move her into a nicer room at the hospital, and let her go. The doctors have said there is nothing more they can do. I can't make any sense of this, and it's too early to put a conclusion to it. A week ago, I said goodbye to her over the phone. Or rather, I said I was so sorry, and I said I loved her. What else could I say? I hope she understood me, but I'm not sure -- she couldn't respond because of the ventilator and I'm not sure she was fully conscious either. Anyway, she's been in a coma for most of the last week. They did a CAT scan on her a couple days ago, to see if there was any hope, any activity left in her brain. I guess not. Plus her pancreas was gone, and her liver and kidneys were so badly damaged as to be useless. One thing for sure is that alcohol killed her, and you could see it coming for a long time. And you couldn't do anything about it. When she and her boyfriend/husband Larry came and visited me last fall (November, 2008), she looked so sick -- bloated with edema, frankly. She just gave off a really unhealthy energy that was tough to be around. And she was going 100 miles an hour in a kind of desperate, impulsive frenzy. They were fleeing New Orleans on their way to Hawaii and pressing on with no plan and just flying from one near-disaster to another. I wonder what her experience and judgement would have been like without the alcohol -- whether she would have pushed herself as hard, and with as little preparation and planning. Anyway it was the dance of death between her and the drinking. Circumstances didn't help, like New Orleans, the stress of moving vast distances, not finding work in a bad economy. She was ultimately very sensitive, but also very stubborn. She was on this precipice before (according to the LJ entry), late in 2007. I remember telling her at the time that alcohol would kill her. When she saw me last fall, I told her that alcohol wasn't good for her, after Larry had told me he'd tried to get her to stop drinking too. (Unfortunately he drinks too so that wasn't going to be successful. If alcoholics don't dry out, you have to leave them. Otherwise, co-dependency.) I will never forget the look of hatred on her face as they left -- I know it was the addiction looking at me, but still. I knew things weren't working out for her in Hawaii. There was just no work. So she and Larry were going to move again, back to Alaska. Relations between us were strained, partly because of my comment, and partly because I didn't help her sell her truck, which she abandoned in Sacramento. I spent a month or two on her s***list. We apologized to each other over email, and I helped her contact old high school friends in facebook, but I never talked to her again, and conditions were still icy when she was hospitalized. What I can't make sense of is the same thing I can't make sense of, in terms of my whole life. We grew up in a violent, stressful household. We moved from southern California to Connecticut as young teenagers, taking us away from everything and everybody we knew. On top of that, we were thrust into an extremely pressured environment -- boarding school. Then our family fell apart. She got into drugs in high school. I worked my ass off. Everything seemed to fall apart for her after that point. She tried to kill herself. She moved far, far away from everybody, to Alaska. She lost her first baby, Ingrid. She got divorced then hooked up with an abusive alcoholic who fathered her second son. Now I don't know about all the good things, but the news I got about her usually wasn't good. What I recall is the heavy drinking started after Ingrid died. But I think the root of everything was the degradation and dysfunction of our family of origin, particularly, the psychotic nature of our dad -- a man who has systematically cut himself off from all his kids, who absolutely and resolutely refuses to take responsibility for his actions or his feelings. This is what I can't make sense of. How is it sensible to cut off your own kids, to be isolated and defensive even into old age? This is why I too was going 100 mph until my body caught up with me in the form of a neuropathy and forced me to slow down, to stop working so hard. That's made me face the stuff with our family but I still can't make sense of it. Even to say "well, it's psychotic" is too easy and dismal a dismissal. Blood is blood, kin is kin. Martha and Dad are/were sick. I'm sick, with this neuropathy, and a healthy dose of anxiety. My brother Jim is fragile and delusional. I couldn't help Martha in all her struggles and through the bad stuff. A phone call, if I managed to get through, was paltry support. The only thing I can think of doing is supporting my brother and and my other sister, and my own family, as best I can. | | Friday, July 10th, 2009 | | 10:44 am |
| | Thursday, December 13th, 2007 | | 2:10 pm |
sweet
So I took three hours off and went across town to Madeleine's concert yesterday. Gosh, that was nice. I wish I had gone to other concerts, since this was the last one (for Mad anyway). Was nice too to hang out at Cafe LOL. I need more breaks like that during my drudgery. I think I'll schedule another visit in a couple months, just to hang out at the Cafe and whatnot with M. | | Thursday, November 1st, 2007 | | 9:39 pm |
I am worried about my sister Martha. She has been basically bed-ridden for two months now, after having a miscarriage and double pneumonia. She's now hospitalized, and I don't know what's wrong with her, and I can't reach her. My mom can't, and Emily can't either. She's had a hard life and it really has caught up to her. I pray she'll pull out of this -- but not being able to reach her makes me fear she's a lot worse. Mmmm. It was nice to have lunch with Mad today, but I could tell that events at work were weighing heavily on her. It affects me to see her down about it, and I wish I could help. She feels her future is bleak. I want to say, your future isn't going to be Accent Arts, and it isn't going to be working all the time, and it isn't going to be dealing with the heavy stuff regarding Ruth. It also affects me that she'll be gone, out of the country, in the not-so-distant future. Boy, it's hard to think about not having her around. Her and Irene both. | | Tuesday, August 28th, 2007 | | 2:33 pm |
While I'm stuck here at "work", I'm listening in my head to the latest CD Mad burned for me, the Katamari Damacy collection. Wonderful stuff, very infectious. It's made its way into my primary memory circuits rather quickly...that's how good it is. | | Friday, June 29th, 2007 | | 10:53 am |
another test
Almost as boring as the job is getting treatments. I have to sit for four+ hours on my bed while an IV gets pumped into me. There is a nurse, Larry, who monitors the treatment. He sits across from me at my card table, working on his own computer. We've run out of things to say. It's part of the price of mobility -- that and approximately $4000. Current Mood:  bored | | Tuesday, June 19th, 2007 | | 2:49 pm |
Did you hear me? I am fantastically bored. Even when there's "work", it's mindless and repetitive. This is a no-growth job. I mean, I'm glad I'm working at all, but there's GOT to be better work than this. | | Monday, June 18th, 2007 | | 10:49 am |
motivated
I have to find other work. This job is too mindless and too unstimulating. I am way underutilized. I've been at this current job with Palamida for a year, as of today. And that anniversary has got me thinking. So as of today I am going to start taking steps to get my resume out there, to find other work. At the same time, I'm quite aware that taking the stand that I will not be programming limits my possibilities...but programming is just not in the cards for me any more. Instead I should be cultivating other expertise, possibly working towards another degree or something marketable. What, then? Software management? MBA? Don't think so. I think I should be taking up another language, like French or something. Get real good at it. Anyway, I'm motivated. In other news, I had a real nice Father's Day yesterday. | | Wednesday, May 16th, 2007 | | 4:38 pm |
welp
It's been almost two years, but I've come back. imabubble and kanonriddle have inspired me. I'm at work and shouldn't be doing this, but what the hey -- if they can't keep me busy all the time, and they can't occupy my mind, then I'll occupy my mind for me. At least it looks like I'm working as I'm typing, heheh. | | Friday, October 21st, 2005 | | 3:50 pm |
Admist a sea of rocks and boulders, TOL'CHUK, a half-human, half-ogre picks up stones, scratches and sniffs them. Some he discards, other places in a pile. THORIN hatefully eyes him from above and throws a rock at him, missing. TOL'CHUK Thorin, I am magra, and not to be disturbed THORIN Not adult until sunset, Tol'chuk [He tosses another stone, again missing.] THORIN (CONT'D) He-who-walks-like-a-man fears! You are not Onowi [o-now-ee] in your heart! [This insult is too much -- the anger rises.] TOL'CHUK I do not fear. THORIN I always wondered why you're different -- you must wonder about it. [He throws another rock. A near-miss.] TOL'CHUK You know the law. [Thorin approaches.] THORIN What law? TOL'CHUK You are not to harm any of one's own clan. You risk banishment if you harm me! You are my tribesman! THORIN Half-breeds do not count. TOL'CHUK Why challenge me? [Thorin picks up a fairly large rock.] THORIN (laughs threateningly) Because you disgust me, and others have asked me to. [And he prepares to hurl the rock. Tol'Chuk rushes in and grabs Thorin's arms, jerking them aside, and making him lose the rock. Tol'Chuk then backhands Thorin with both fists, knocking him to the ground. He then stands there, regretting his move. Thorin feels inside his bloody mouth. His eyes grow wide as he pulls out a loose tooth. Anger devours him. He leaps for Tol'chuk's throat. Tol'chuk ducks and rams his head into Thorin's stomach. Thorin falls back, but rolls back and yanks on Tol'chuk's leg, toppling him. Tol'chuk receives a gash on his head. Thorin leaps on him and claws at his exposed belly. Tol'chuk tries to defend against the attack. Thorin then slips out a dagger, which Tol'chuk sees.] THORIN (CONT'D) Half-breed, today you haunt us no more. [Tol'chuk whisks up a rock in each hand and slams them into the sides of Thorin's head; BONE-cracking is HEARD. Blood pours from Thorin's nostrils, the dagger slips from his hand, and he collapses. Tol'chuk realizes he has the bloody rocks in hand and quickly discards them, then tries to catch his breath as he decides what to do.] [off-off camera, THORIN is heard to say, "ouchie"] | | Thursday, September 8th, 2005 | | 6:09 pm |
Now and then (Requiem for September Eleventh) ------------ It sometimes feels like I'm full up at the same time I am dry Like I can't remember anything No matter how I try I see the same old things new memories can't be made my mind is just too brittle the future is decayed. Comes a day, every year, though, I am bound to remember things a little more sharply. Comes a day, every year, I remember my senses I remember my friends and family I remember being alive, now and then I remember life and death I remember to breathe And in the great disaster The illusion, Youth, is faded But Love grows ever deeper Though time may make me jaded More than I ever knew. | | Monday, August 15th, 2005 | | 3:25 pm |
I bought the Dandy Warhols' "Thirteen Tales from Urban Bohemia" yesterday. They're a Portland band. I love it, especially, "Sleep". | | Monday, August 8th, 2005 | | 4:22 pm |
Riding ------ I am among horses. The guide's horse whinnies at the front of the line As we make our way 'round the horsetrail. I wonder why he does that. I savor the sunlight, the smell of sage, the slow rocking of my own horse, the immensity of the hills, the sound of horseshoes hitting rocks; the company of my daughter, the soothing natural silence, the oaks' exultation. How cool the river must feel As we ride across. He whinnies often -- the only thing marring the ride. Is he in pain? Is the guide being cruel? Driving him too hard? Is he bored? I ask the guide back at the barn: Why does he do that? He misses his friend, says the guide. I didn't know horses had friends and missed them enough to call "where are you?". He was hoping to hear a response like horse sonar. The ride changes with this meaning. I am among horses and I am not alone. Yet I whinny too. | | Thursday, August 4th, 2005 | | 5:49 pm |
Today I went to Santa Barbara High School and met their cross-country and track coach, Olivia Perdices. I went to volunteer for being an assistant coach. SB High is the "Home of the Dons". What a Don is, I don't know. Some guy named Don is the mascot? Yes, I'm going to become a "Don". Now, if you go around and call me Don or Don John or Ding Don or King Don, I will be upset, mainly because, I said it here first and you'd be stealing my idea. Olivia went to Sacred Heart in San Francisco in the early nineties. She says Shannon Rowbury broke all her records. | | Wednesday, August 3rd, 2005 | | 5:52 pm |
Zinjanthropus means, literally, east african man. Also known as Australopithecus. |
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