Kicking it up with InfiniteRand

Long time since I've posted anything, something of a long time since I've written anything. This prompts the question of who would have any interest in reading what I have to write. My brother gave me a good suggestion, thinking about writing for my daughters. While I try to be open with them about a lot of things, there are some things I keep to myself, and even more that I just do not have the time or occasion or expression to share. At the very least, what I write might be useful for them to have, even though I suspect even if they have it they are probably not likely to read it, after all how many go through all of the family photos except once in a blue moon, but in their lives they are likely to have a blue moon once and again.

Of course, that makes me think it's probably best to have some backup set up in case Google gets tired of this blogspot abandonware or gives some opt-in prompt that I neglect in my old age, consigning my words to oblivion.

Anyways, that is the minimum, I have two intelligent and curious little girls, and whether or not they read my words having the words would be a comfort, and it might be a discomfort for them to think that I stopped writing around the time I had them (the timelines do not line up for that, in fact my last post was before I met their mother, but people have a way of overlooking blurry timelines in these type of things, although I hope that is something I can teach them to avoid). So there is that minimum. And perhaps there are more that might enjoy my words, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps... (I want to say that is from some British sitcom but I can't recall the name, maybe Coupling?)

Why I stopped or at least paused my writing? Many reasons, if I'm honest sloth is among them, fear of writing something bad, fear my creativity might be gone, apathy, feeling that my writing is worthless (so rather than giving up my writing for the sake of my kids, my kids have given me a counteraction against one of my hindrances, and yes kids, I expect you to learn all of those big words), questioning my place in the big scheme of things. None of that is especially new (well me not writing is not especially new at this point).

Perhaps what it is, and there is a little supporting evidence of this, is at the time of my life when I decided to get serious about being married, I decided to put focus on the rituals, procedures, and habits necessary to help me find a wife. I can go into this more a different day, but much of this rubbed against my anxieties, social and otherwise, and it took a considerable mental effort to push on this.

Essentially, to make it short, making a concerted effort to find a wife was stressful for me.

This is also why I resigned as a member of the national board of the MCYM, despite that being one of my preferred social and to some degree creative outlets (more on that a different day, in fact pretty much all of these sentences could be fleshed out into a paragraph or two, but I have promises to keep...), the stress of the obligations of my duties as a national board member (which perhaps I took too seriously) was a weight that I knew would be difficult to me to bear in addition to these new stresses.

While I did not make a decision to stop writing them, that stress did decrease my output (although it would be interesting to go into my notebooks and to see to what degree at what point, of course for that be accurate I would need dates on everything which I don't have). Then the stress of marriage, married life, eventually parenthood, all vital things I wanted in my life, these did not directly work against me writing but what they did do is leave less energy to fight against the old fears and anxieties associated with writing, which as always grew the longer I stayed away from writing. While this can be looked at as some unfortunate accident, I do remember at times reflecting on the trade-off between the married/fatherly life I was pursuing and the effort needed to sustain me as a writer, ultimately I made a choice. Not a choice to stop writing, but a choice to pursue the family life I wanted and believed was a vital part of my life's vocation, even if my writing life suffered.

I made a choice and I still believe it was the correct one. I look at my wife and my girls, and we have built something beautiful together, something blessed by God and sacred.

There's some simplification there, and so other factors that I know played a role, but I think this assessment is true enough to let it stand.

This leads me to say, there is no reason why I shouldn't write now, although it shouldn't be at the expense of this life I have built, if the two do not work against each other, why not write? (From the assessment above, you might say well it sounds like they do work against each other, but the relationship between different responsibilities, hobbies, duties and stress is more complex and subtle than that, they will sometimes work against each other, sometimes they will help each other, and sometimes each must be given a certain amount due, and sometimes some must be pushed to the background)

And it is worth coming back to the minimum reasons for me to write, in addition to my girls, there is a certain feeling of sacred duty to God. I often think of the story of the king who gave his servants different sums of money to invest, God has given me some talents of creativeness and some tendency toward writing, and so I ought to use it if I can, and share it if I can. God has given me other blessings more precious to me in the form of my family, and that sacred duty comes first. But if the clouds of my anxiety and the mysterious inner workings of my mind align just right, so that writing is possible without the neglect of family, then I ought take the chance, and I think that it is God's will for me to do so.

More could be written about this, but time conspires against me here. I do have other duties related to my family life (to be less vague, I have to do my job), while I have taken time away from that to write this, in some ways writing has cleared my mind more to help me tackle those duties. If I used that as an excuse to spend all my time away from my work, it would be counter-productive, and so I must set a limit and come to an end. (Although the story never ends...)

Anywho, take it to your head, take it to your heart, and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

And God Bless.

I can hear music

Can you hear the whispers of music in the wind?
The air is vibrating with potential;
I feel the blood within me dart back and forth
    Like newborn tadpoles in a sun-drenched stream.

Rejoice!
Cry gladness!
And leap into the sky while laughing;

Today and now,
    All things begin anew,
    And can be done better this time;
    And can be done right this time.

For no reason
    Other than,
    This is the day the Lord has made,

Let us be glad
And rejoice.

- Rand McRanderson

Because all futures come to pass given time and space

Including more posts by me - And yet more stuff - but I plan to do more stuff but busy-ness and wierdness and craziness + zombies / doom - and so on

Ken Turan, Roger Ebert and the incredible shrinking teamster

I've come to like twitter. I have little confidence in its long-term survival, but I like it. And hence I sometimes read the stuff of the people I follow, and sometimes I go along with the links they post and happen upon finding myself in an interesting article. And so it happened with Roger Ebert's twitter feed, and so I must thank him for this link to this article.

The article is While high school literary magazines are a bit removed from national film criticism, this essay brings to mind my days as an editor for the Ivy. For the first 2-3 years I was there, we followed a rule of whiting out the name of whatever piece we were reviewing. But then one year, perhaps we were just lazy, perhaps we were too smug in assuming of course we knew what was good, despite any personal feelings, perhaps we were just too informal and inattentive, but for some reason we stopped whiting out the names. The odd thing was we didn't end up favoring our friends much (maybe a few cases), mostly though we became more dismissive of people who weren't our friends.

But actually, thinking upon it more, it wasn't really a matter of who was our friends. It was more the case that we were dismissive of people didn't have an artistic reputation. I suppose the real reason not to review friends in our case was not so much that we might champion our friends, as that we became confident that we knew the scene and knew who deserved to be featured from it.

Film reviewers don't really have the option of whiting out the name. While no reviewing friends helps, just knowing who made what, affects the criticism, but on the other hand, deep analytical criticism often focuses on the filmmaker more than the film at hand, and sometimes part of the experience of the film rests in its context, including the context of who the filmmaker is. Most importantly though, film reviewers review famous things and even if they try to avoid it, they will inevitably hear from everyone who is in anything.

But perhaps the solution is thus, and this is an approach I try to practice when looking at films. Treat the film makers as abstractions, as phenomena, not as real human beings. Of course, you can analyze them as examples of human beings making films, but treat them as if they were not real, as if they were a legend, or better yet, a story unfolding in front of you. Indeed treat the entire film scene and history like that. I could go as far to say life... but I won't. Here's the reason I won't, life is something to be engaged in, to revel in, now analysis is part of that process of revelling, but it requires a particular focus to analyze something.

By focus I mean, you cannot analyze something and include everything that ever touched it in the analysis. Because, you as the observer are also touched by it and maybe you can appreciate that on an instinctual level, and maybe you can summarize it, but can you capture the whole of your experience with the object of your analysis? Say a film for example, can you really capture every aspect of how you viewed it, especially since how you experienced the film is intertwined with who you are and what your life has been, can you capture it all?

But if you start talking about the film as something real, something visceral, there's a subtext to it all, where you say "This is how I viewed it as me". And what does that give to anyone else who reads it? Since you cannot communicate the entirety of yourself, but your writing is soaked in the particularities of your experience, you leave the reader befuddled.

That is not to say do not make the writing personal, but rather make it personal in a particular way. Confine the personalness, to this or that aspect of your life. And try to detach the rest of your life from the writing. Now that's an impossible goal, but you try, and you might find your writing becomes more than just words but actual communication.

To get back to what I was saying about film criticism. The film critic cannot explain all of who he is in a citical essay, and if he views the film a real work that has lives and history and everything attached to it, then all his feelings about lives and history and everything, and really everything, becomes the subject of the essay. Usually that ends up at best a beautiful mess, and at worse an ugly one. So a degree of focus must be made, the film becomes an abstraction, and indeed the writer becomes an abstraction to himself, so that this particular aspect of the film and the writer's experience with the film can be detached and put on paper. And that is an impossible task but it's made harder when your personal ties to the film are dear ones. And yet...

Is it possible to communicate without that filtering, by just pouring everything out there? I'd say probably not. But perhaps if you're lucky, talented, or the medium suits you perfectly, you get the miraculous situation where pouring out everything is filtered just by the where, when, and how of your art, and thus despite the uniquely personal chaos of your thoughts, something to a greater or lesser extent universal comes out, or at least something shared by a few people.

The article that prompted all of this, is about a film review by LA Times film cricket Kenneth Turan where he breaks his own rule and reviews his friend's work. And does it create the beautiful mess that I implied would come?

No, but that's because the article by Kenneth Turan is not really about the film (it does contain maybe 3 or 4 paragraphs giving a brief ho-hum recommendation which sounds generally like a famous person recommending a friend's film with a touch of earnestness), rather it's about Kenneth Turan and the writing process. And here Mr. Turan does seem to abstract himself to a degree carving out a moment in his life, his writing of his review, and in reviewing himself, if not the film in question, he makes a fine essay.

So take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

And God Bless.

How did I get here? Really, how? Who and why as well

And the days go by and the water flowing underground...

ONCE IN A LIFETIME

And if you'd like to make sure that it's all the same as it ever was, here's the lyrics

But damn... it's weird... I really don't think I was going to be here. In fact, in high school I considered myself distinctly un-technical and was somewhat proud for bucking the Indian computer whiz stereotype (But then I decided to buy a stereo...). On the other hand my oldest brother's a tech whiz and I took a bunch of comp-sci classes and I also was involved with the Computer Club (which I tried to steer into a creating sentient artificial intelligence direction, but they said it was "unrealistic" and "delusional").

Still the comp-sci-y part of me always seemed a little less than the other parts and that my career would take me...

But what is a career? (let's look at webster..., though dude Webster, shiny-ness does not excuse a website so crowded with slow running js that it's barely usable (yeah I'm looking at you Mashable))

In a lot of ways, who I am, highly religious, writer-ly, and overall a jack-of-all-trades, hasn't changed much from my days as a 5-year old... but damn...

I guess a lot of my amazement at who I am now comes from 3 things:

1. I went through a period where any prospect of the future seemed unrealistic since I thought death was imminent
2. On occasion my imagination runs away with my ambition (but they never actually elope! I mean really!) and I have dreams of myself as widely read and respected and yet only a tiny bit older, if not younger
3. Perhaps most importantly of all, it's the gestalt of it all. Even if I might imagine a bit of myself here or there, to imagine the whole of my being... can I even conceive of it? (I'm pretty sure actually that I can't).

But while there's certain romantics to my surprise, a greater significance maybe the lesson learned. That is to say, if I did not predict who I am now, will I be able to know what I will become. And thus "How did I get here?" begets "Where am I going?"

But actually I know the answer to that...

I'm going to see the King

So take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks.

Goodnight Folks!

And God Bless.

Doom - The Poem

Doom
Doom isn't just a word
Nor just a poem
Doom is a way of life
 Laugh in the face of death
Laugh in the face of life as well

Discard your fears
And throw away your security

Shout to the rooftops the madness of it all
And insist till the bitter end the essential sanity beneath

Sling upon your back the burdens of the ancestors
And toss off your loads as a man created from the void

Embrace everything
And hold onto nothing


Stare deep into the cold abyss of enthropy
And listen to the roaring inferno of the passionate soul
 Understand your own insignifance
And realize the glories of the human spirit within yourself

And know that even doom is not enough

-Rand

(Not perfect, but doom doesn't come just once)

Doom to the Max: Doom doesn't say die

"Dude, that's quite the ax in your back"

"That's quite the nose in my business, you bum!"

"Well you are writing about it online, obviously you can't-"

"See more in my business!"

"Look I'm just saying-"

"Stuff! And when you're saying stuff, I need to listen and say stuff and-"

"Actually you don't need to listen because this is an imaginary dia-"

"You fool, with the fourth wall broken, the gremlins will finally get free! You've doomed us all! We're doomed!

"Don't panic, get the bazookas, we've got gremlin hunting to do..."

"But what if they are too many?"

"Then we'll just have to become a force of doom-
BECAUSE DOOM NEVER SAYS DIE!!!"

And now you know, and knowing is half the battle.

So take it to your head, take it to your head, and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

And God Bless.

Reflecting on the infinity of madness within the sanity of the sands of time

My creativity takes many forms, writing stories, poetry, essays, this blog, twitter feed, speculating on math, history, philosophy, etc. and so on.

And among the items I left out of that statement, or at least left implied was programming

My feelings toward programming have gone up and down, risen and fallen, but the one constant is... actually there's been no special constant to my feelings about programming, except perhaps my affection for C++.

But nowadays, perhaps because my work requires coding and the like, I find programming often coming to my head... to the point of disturbance.

Dun, dun, dun...!

Now the disturbance isn't because of a lack of creative potential in programming, though it is partially because of a lack of creative realization in my programming, but perhaps more strongly it is that programming can often involve very minute details that are ultimately useless... indenting lines of code, optimizing loops and recursions, rehashing solutions to old algorithms solved a million times over by smarter minds... and it's very easy for me to program and in that manner. That is in a manner which is mindless and emotionless and detail obsessed... well, truthfully obsession is a dear friend to any artist, but with me and programming I feel it perhaps comes a bit easier...

Counter-strike!

I could tell many strategies old and new about counteracting this feeling and that one, etc. leading to a triumphant reversal of fortunes, just over the horizon... and I will give you this one... to overcome the risk of tedium, numbness and insanity that programming risks, I do now fill my veins with the purpose of bringing out worth and polish to my often odd and weird programming experiments, or at the very least, and perhaps more humbly, at least sharing my programming experience, if not to share knowledge of programming, perhaps just knowledge of a man programming.

(Stay tuned for posts in this vein, or not, whichever I feel like or what you feel like wiht the staying tuned-ness and all, I mean all I'm saying is if you're all stressed out, maybe you shouldn't stay tuned, maybe you should just get some sleep... or maybe I should)

Now enjoy the very nice jamming of a warm-hearted code monkey, just like me

And if I cannot share a great algorithm, perhaps I can share the desire for a great algorithm, the artist's drive...perhaps... only God knows.

So take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

And God Bless.

The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

Doom, Doom, Doom, Doom, mcDoom, Doom and I'll post something more and later, but till then enjoy this wonderful episode of the wonderful sitcom: Newsradio.

DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM.

Doom.

Because nothing changes on New Year's Day

Or so sayth U2 as per their song. As I think I've mentioned before, that song is a particularly odd mix of great lines that never really comes together. Which can be compared to...

Some stuff I'm sure.

But seeing as it's not New Year's Day I can hope for some changes... and moving past the bad jokes part of this posting, let me get to the noting of the lack of posting... I really have been letting things go with this blog, more than a month... dude, lame...

Segwaying violently without a care for even the spelling of the word, let me move on.

I am constantly terrified of my creativity waning. This worry tends to be amplified by periods of little creative production, such as lately, but part of it comes from an essential doubt... if that creative process pulls things together into something you haven't thought of before, how can you be sure that it'll work again?

After all, perhaps it was just an odd grouping of circumstances that's kept things creative so far, or maybe an odd grouping of circumstances have dislodged those areas of your imagination that used to function so splendidly or...

The solution to this irrational paranoia, as usual is to push through it.

But the solution to the existential dilemma... and now as happens from time to time, I use existential dilemma in all seriousness...

Creative work on the one hand emerges from different elements of the mind (or spirit or however you want to formulate it who you are), but it represents a change in those concepts' relationship to each other so much so that the flux can be isolated and stabilized into a concept separate enough to be called a new idea. From this perspective though the newness is only illusionary.

But on the other hand, that reconfiguring of old concepts, the rearranging of their relationships, and the teasing out of that stable new gem of a idea, it does seem like something, if not out of nothing, at least something out of unreliable luck.

It seems little comfort to reflect that the continued existence of our lives, given dangers both near and far, is itself a matter of luck, of a lesser or greater degree.

Yet in a way that must be admitted to seem strange, it is a bit of a comfort.

Because I have to say, while I accept that my life may end at any time, yet for now while I live I plan for the future, so that as my life continues I might act better in any given now assuming that the future is likely. Perhaps I can accept my creativity on the same terms. While it has waned and waxed through the years, overall I've been blessed with a decent amount of creativity throughout my life. I have no reason to believe that it will be taken from me, and so I might as well enjoy it and use it and plan for its continued existence while I've got it. Tomorrow it may be gone, but tomorrow it may still be around, and I'd rather waste a little effort in misplaced honing of creativity later lost than to not take advantage of creativity given.

In a sense, this reminds me of Jesus' parable of the master and 3 servants - to be blessed with opportunity to good in this life and to do nothing with that is like the servant who did nothing with the money he was entrusted with.

And a creative mind is a terrible thing to waste, even if it may vanish in but a moment... but such is life. And that's okay.

So take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

And God Bless.

Rumors of my hiatus have been greatly exaggerated by me

Because I said that earlier, and now I take it back - SPIN MOVE!.

Now before you question my sincerity - who are you to question my sincerity!! (Seriously, who are you? People never comment around here. Comment damn you I command it!), I will say this... why the heck would I take a hiatus?

Well, why do people take hiatuses or hiati as the Romans might say (they wound't say that by the way)?

Usually to go on vacation, to do a reassessment of things without the weight of their work hanging over them...

So I might go on hiatus during a trip to India coming up later this month... INDIA!!! WOOOOO!!!... but to be honest, the whole removal of weight of work thing just doesn't gel when you start mixing it up.

Because writing, despite it's occasional stresses and a frustrating lack of focus, energy and inspiration of late, is ultimately expressive of my soul and more than that enriching of my soul. I become stronger through writing, and though it requires effort that is effort well spent...

And yet, there are many other places where effort must be spent in my life. So why reserve a spot for this one?

Because writing is a part of me, a very core and essential part and to discard it would be to leave a piece of my spirit to rot and that dog won't hunt monsignor.

And thus Rand rambles on...endlessly and awesomely... BECAUSE I AM RAND, the GREAT AND GLORIOUS!!!

Anywho, take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

And God Bless.

If I should be lost, will your songs lead me home

I'm still off. I dunno, my mind is a bit away from well, relative to my worst I'm still doing quite outstandingly, so things aren't bad, I'm just a little unwell.

But perhaps all I really want is someone to sing me to sleep:

Sing me to sleep

Sing me to sleep
For I am tired.

I shall seize the day nobly,
Pursue my ambition,
But with justice as my guide.
I will write the greatest novel,
I will write the greatest play,
I will write the world a new point of view,
New values and ideals.
I will save us all
And keep us all safe.
I will recreate the Earth and make it better.

And this day was an effort towards those goals,
And it has drained all the energy from me
Each and every drop.
Is it foolish to pursue my hopes until my body is weary and broken?
Is it idiotic?
Dangerous?
Suicidal?
Perhaps it is correct at least for me,
perhaps I do not know,
But I cannot make the effort to ponder such weighty matters at this hour.
Tomorrow I can,
But tonight I cannot.

So sing me to sleep
For it is time for me to rest.

-Rand

Because me, myself, I come and go

Excuse the bubbliness of this post, it's actually something I wrote some time ago, which doesn't really explain anything, since as bubbliness goes, it comes and goes, it comes and goes... karma...karma..karma..karma chameleon...

Anywho...

Welcome to the wonderful world of Rand! It's been a while since I've started out with a greeting so I thought I'd spit one out. Anyways when I'm depressed, apathetic, feeling empty or any combination of the three (there are differences between the three but the differences do not constitute a barrier, they are more like shades of being really screwed up) I can only watch certain TV shows. Simpsons always, and Scrubs usually. Other shows I tend to get tired of very quickly even if they are shows I love and I can see that they are high quality and that on normal occassions I would love to watch them.
I think why the Simpsons is so easy to watch is because it never gets too serious and because it is just completely hilarious. Also there's nostalgic value. Even that said, there are certain episodes I can't watch. Lisa's Rival for example I can't watch, probably because I don't like seeing Lisa suffering, even if the episode is pretty good (the most awesome gag is Bart getting Milhouse on the FBI's Most Wanted List and then tipping the FBI off and finally the Fugitive scene). But most of the episodes of the Simpsons have such non-stop crazy off the wall humor that it's very easy to watch, and very easy on the nerves.
Scrubs also has a lot of that crazy off the wall humor and maybe that's why it's easy to watch. But what's strange is that it is also a semi-dramatic show, and in most cases dramas are the first to go when my depression interferes with my tv watching. Scrubs involves death, character growth, etc., so it's strange that when my mind is in a state that usually wants to avoid anything actually pulling at the emotions it should choose Scrubs. But maybe its the fact when Scrubs pulls at you, it pulls at you in situations that it depicts as ordinary. Thus you don't have to dig into your heart for emotions you weren't prepared for and for extraordinary variants of those emotions, the ordinary sort of sadness is appropriate, the ordinary sort of self-reflection is alright. That said, there are still certain Scrubs episodes I can't watch, I haven't been able to get myself to watch My Own Personal Jesus even though it's an episode I'd really like to watch. (On the other hand this theory might be completely off or it might be a combination of this plus most of the sadness is not critical of the characters which allows me to feel that emotion without feeling the pull of sympathetic guilt, which may be what I'm really trying to avoid, maybe, I'm not sure, one can never truly stare into their head and completely understand it, Godel actually proved that.)
I write this for a couple reasons, first of all, this is what's in my head right now, secondly, this is one of those odd little things about how my mind works that I and hopefully some of you find fascinating, thirdly, I take my tv watching pretty seriously. Well, maybe not that seriously, I can enjoy it without analyzing it. But tv provokes me, it touches me, it keeps my mind active by pulling out emotions that were inactive, forcing me to think out jokes and dramatic situations, and sparking my imagination. To rebuke those who say tv kills imagination, I'd say my imagination is build up by tv. I'm able to access the ideas, words, and images of tv to build up my ideas, to use as inspiration. Many of jokes were inspired (although not necessarily copied) from the Simpsons. I only really thought of robotic life after watching transformers. My first ideas about mecha only came after watching Gundam Wing. My ideas about the fantasy epic really took off only after watching Record of Lodoss War. But my ideas did not stay derivitive copies of these tv shows, rather they evolved into other directions, sometimes making them untracable to their origin. On the shoulders of these giants my ideas stand. Some may argue books can play the same role, and they can, but tv provides images, which helps my imagination imagine images built on those of tv, that is not to say that books are worse, books force my mind to imagine my own images, on the other hand tv helps my mind imagine more complex images, and anyways, the worth of a story depends most importantly on the story not the medium.
Some would argue that it is best for the mind to be untainted by tv so it can imagine ideas completely original. I remember a story by Orson Scott Card called "Unaccompanied Sonata," it is an amazing story and everyone should read it. Among the many concepts it contained (although this was not the theme, but rather a background concept, and it didn't really recommend this so much as say this was how the world of this story worked) was the idea that a musician to be truely original had to be completely cut off from any music. When the musician of the story did hear music suddenly he started altering his music based on what he heard, making it in some way just a little derivative. Because of this he was cast out of music. The idea is intriguing, but I like the idea that just like science art can build upon itself. Yes, it is interesting to see fresh perspectives from those who haven't studied the art (and I use art in a broad way including tv, books, etc.), but those who have studied art can build on the past, learning from the flaws and successes to perfect the art. Yes, things will be a little derivative in some ways, but honestly, I'm not afraid of things being a little derivative, as long as it's done well. TV is just like any other art in the fact that it can offer ideas, words and images which can be used to build more stories and art. So I do watch tv with pride and appreciation, at its best it is art, and it is wonderful.
And on a more personal note, when I'm really depressed sometimes TV with the ideas it gives me helps push me out of my depression just like a book might or a painting might. On the other hand, tv does provide a distraction, which has cost me much time, but no blessing in this world is without its drawbacks. Yet I think tv is most definitely worth its drawbacks.
That's about all I want to say about that, so take it to your head, take it to your heart, and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

And God Bless.

Because even in the Calendar one can turn the page

Unless your on the web, unless you count turning the web page and I don't, but still here's a calendar:

2007

January Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat         11 You're all bums you know 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 Care 28 29 30 31       February Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat         01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 Reasons 14 15 On Passion: Love, Fury, Ambition, Fanaticism, Devotion and all the rest 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 Transfat, life, and a whole lot of shaking going on       March Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat         01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 The Horror and the Glory and a bunch of other stuff 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 I feel so good I feel so numb yeah, or the work which becomes a new genre itself: The Rand Show 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 April Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30           May Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat     01 02 That which we wait for 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 The temptation of wheat or Azumanga Diaoh review 26 27 28 29 30 31     June Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat           01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 The blues of the younger years 26 27 Never Fear Comikier is here 28 29 30 For James July Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat 01 02 03 04 05 The Logician's Dilemma 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 Sometimes you're trukin' and sometimes you're trucked 14 15 16 17 The Scarecrow loses again, poor scarecrow 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 Template: The Rand Show The type of publishing done for this blog. 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The list of emails for users who have permission to read the blog. The list of authors' emails who have permission to publish. The list of administrators' emails for the blog. 26 27 28 Some dreams deserve to die 29 30 31         August Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat       01 02 The Rand Show - The next level 03 Face it all up with the Facebook 04 You're not really white, you're more pinkish 05 06 It begins AGAIN!!! 07 08 Quotable, boatable, John 09 10 11 12 Things sometimes are as they are 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 A is A, and in any universe Luthor is Luthor 31   September Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat             01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 Shaving the Tom 09 10 It really begins again!!! 11 12 13 14 Even more quotable, even more boatable, roughly the same amount of John 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 All things end in madness 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30             October Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat   01 02 03 Come on, Let's Dance! Come on, Let's Dance! Baby! 04 05 Boatier or Quotier? 06 07 08 In the Garden of Eden, baby 09 10 11 12 Creep 13 14 15 16 Shoutout 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 A contrite heart 26 27 There's a reason Rand has only one arm 28 29 30 TV meets IV: result: Destruction of the World!!! 31       November Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat         01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 Karaoke equals awesome 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 Aelita, Queen of Mars 29 30   December Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat             01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

2008

January Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat     01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 Highly distractible, but nigh industructable 19 20 21 22 23 Ah, the savage winds of history 24 25 26 27 28 29 Mathimoto Speaks!!! Me, Eddy, and the Oriental Arts 30 31 Five Def. of Pi's     February Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat           01 Time to go down to the ground where the Buffulo Roam 02 03 04 05 06 07 And what of the Oriental in America? 08 Why plan when you can scheme? The End of Empires and other such tales 09 10 11 Quotes! Boats! And more of the Rand you love! 12 The Man from Tallahasse 13 Time keeps on Schemin' Istanbul once Constantinople 14 Happy St. Valentine's Day Happy St. Valentine's Day! 15 Here's a little sparkle 16 17 MC Esher be mathin' out 18 19 20 21 22 Cause the History don't stop coming 23 History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce 24 India, a Chronology: Part I That's what I get for all that Scheming 25 26 27 India, A Chronology: Prologue 28 29   March Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat             01 02 03 The Beginning of an Empire 04 Cause Math don't stop 05 06 That's what I'm talking about 07 It's time to come down When history's being abused, who you going to call? 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 Easter!!! Wooo!!! Easter 24 25 Even Mathimoto Loves Quotes Soviet History: More enigma than you can shake a stick at 26 27 28 We need a long-er burn 29 30 31           April Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat     01 02 03 04 05 06 Shoutout to the other Rand Show Poetry, oh sweet poetry 07 08 History = Awesome Tiding over the Tides 09 10 11 12 13 14 Buzzing with the Comp. Sci. 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30       May Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat         01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 Tipu, if not Sultan then what? Primes, they aren't just for Transformers 28 29 30 If there were only a few more Ruskies 31 June Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat 01 Let me hear you say math... MATH!!! 02 03 04 05 The Lord remains 06 Mathimoto's Real Complaint The art of revision 07 Shout-out to some mad-awesome historians 08 09 10 11 Because Math rocks... and Raps 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 The Great Companion of Man 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 History is a mess, but I love it 30           July Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat     01 02 03 lots of change = good, net-wise at least Secrets are me-cret, I suppose 04 05 06 Happy St. Thomas' Day 07 Welcome now to the Robo-Bobo report Civilized, Smivilized! 08 09 Mathimoto's Revamp Check it out now: The History's Your Brother 10 11 A little news, well of me A matter of empire We're all quadratics too 12 13 14 15 16 Still on the Vacationing 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 History keeps on moving... Into the future Cleaning out with Robo-Bobo Or do it the sensible way: Top 5 tips These things I do believe Posting, posting, posting, gotta keep on posting 24 25 26 An Era of Extra-Ordinary Prosperity 27 What is happiness? Baby, don't hurt me, don't hurt me no more 28 29 30 31     August Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat           01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 Robo Bobo and the Complaint 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31             September Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat   01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30         October Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat       01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31   November Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat             01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30             December Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat   01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

2009

January Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat         01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 February Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat 01 02 03 04 The Return of the King 05 06 Rand's Adventures in Job Land 07 08 09 10 Working in a Gold Mine, but all the shimmers must fade away 11 12 13 The sleepy 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 March Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat 01 02 Two steps forward, one step forward, one sideways, and always twirling toward the future 03 Move Along, Move Along, Like I told you too 04 Because I am a ROCKET MAN... 05 I am not your carpet ride 06 07 08 09 10 It's a long way down to nothing at all... My oh My 11 12 13 14 15 Cause sometimes computing ain't for tooling 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 A Certain Burden to Things 31 Brannigan, begin again         April Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat       01 02 03 04 Chasing down infinity 05 Space Oddity 06 07 Let not the sun be proud, lest I strike it from the sky 08 09 10 11 I follow he who has conquered death 12 Christ has Risen! 13 Twittering away the blues 14 15 Don't turn around again A little poetry for the emotionary 16 17 18 19 20 21 Sometimes not knowing is okay, Not this time though 22 Because this is my path 23 Ah, the savage winds of history 24 25 A good old fashioned shootout between me and my brain 26 When I get older... they'll call me freedom 27 Me, Eddy, and that Oriental-Looking Fellow 28 Time to be a sneaky oriental 29 30     May Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat           01 02 These are the songs we sing 03 Because I got to keep moving on 04 Archimedes Rules!!! Woo!!! 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 For some reason I can't explain, once you were gone it was never the same             June Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat   01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 Sooner or later everyone fails 12 Because the Rand Show is Comikier than yo'mama 13 Prithee, have thee heard of the Prism 14 15 What are you waiting for really 16 17 18 The Rand Show Comic : 300% More Comikier than Yo Mamma The Rand Show #1 The Rand Show #2 The Rand Show #3 The Rand Show #4 Even in defeat, one can reap the dividends of peace 19 DOOOOM!!! 20 Just a little lonely 21 Cause all is poetry... even the web 22 23 24 25 Here's to you Michael Jackson, Salute 26 27 Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, I the fool 28 29 Scar tissue that I wish you saw 30 Vacation is not quite what I wanted         July Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat       01 02 Because I'm easy, easy like Sunday morning 03 04 05 Let me sing these songs of freedom... but not right now 06 07 Now to get 08 Unfortunately we need to sleep before Brooklyn 09 So what do you want? 10 11 12 13 Because Doom don't go away It's not just a crappy new Korn song 14 15 16 And when I am freedom will I be a waving flag? 17 18 19 20 21 22 Live and let doom 23 A meditation on Archimedes to satisfy the needy 24 To Africa, I think 25 26 27 I think there is a point here that you are missing 28 29 Waxing and waning before an upcoming storm 30 Character Runner Hex Converter 31   August Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat             01 02 03 Lest you think me always a fool 04 Jersey is more awesome than your state plus yo mamma 05 06 07 08 09 10 I'm back, not quite in black 11 12 How to turn a Facebook Friends List into a CSV 13 14 15 Even though Sally can wait, don't look back in anger 16 17 And so they all exploded 18 19 I suppose I was bold that day 20 21 22 23 Excuse me, please miss And when destiny is not enough 24 25 A conversation doomed to happen 26 Jersey City here I am 27 28 29 30 31           September Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat     01 Working like a turkey 02 Programming Is Awesome 03 04 05 06 Circles, Dots, Squares Beastia Viri None the less, Doom my friends, doom 07 08 09 Doom to the max, with giraffes: A conversation destined to happen Tech Notes: XLSX 10 And if I can turn the stars blue can I follow you 11 12 13 Damn it didn't I tell you to Ultra-Relax! 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 Happy Reunion Day! 21 22 23 24 25 26 And I knew if I had a chance I could make those people dance 27 28 Welcome to the World of Rand 29 30       October Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat         01 The inherent folly of internal isolationism 02 03 04 The Rand Show Web Mess Because it cannot begin again when its never over 05 06 07 08 A meditation on Morrie 09 10 11 12 Exile 13 14 And it all makes you want to scream 15 16 Funky PHP 17 18 19 20 Because the hand that feeds tastes good 21 22 23 24 Our Father who art in Heaven 25 26 27 28 And in the stone temple like a pilot I will light a fire 29 30 31 The Nicene Creed The Apostles' Creed November Sun Mon Tues Wed Thurs Fri Sat 01 02 Blaze ye stars, let me not see you whimper 03 Patience 04 Min Date Calendarier

And in the stone temple like a pilot I will light a fire

If you can't tell (ie if you have no taste in music and are a bum, yeah I'm talking to you Frank, don't make me come down there!), this is a reference to the most excellent Stone Temple Pilots Song Creep and take a view of the lyrics here

And am I?

Lighting a fire, don't mind if I do...

And while the arson charges are being dealt with...

Anywho, yeah, I am feeling a bit uninspired. It's happened before and it'll happen again, these things happen, that doesn't mean it doesn't suck.

In fact it really sucks.

In fact it really sucks combined with other issues in my life which I could at least pretend were inspiring.

But now I can't.

Which sucks.

Dude...lame...

In the end, the cure to any writer's block is at its core drilling through it through perseverance. But it's drilling with your brain. That's not pleasant. (As Barton Fink can attest to).

I'm tempted to just put all my troubles on my romantic frustrations. But that's silly. Yes, I am only at full potential when in love, fueled by a muse I am more capable at almost every aspect of my life. But there have been plenty of times when I've not been in love and still been plenty creative.

And then there's the one ever present eternal love of my life, God. Endlessly, perfectly loving.

If my life is not complete without a muse (and that's a big if, but it's something I'm starting to suspect is true, which isn't so dramatic, after all it just means I'd like to get married someday), my life does not begin without God. And even in my worst writer's block, I can still turn to God and find inspiration...

Bits of it at least, though that's still a gift, and I know that this is probably just a lean time. Yet it's still frustrating. And perhaps that frustration too will become inspiration but...

...but sometimes instead of struggling to figure out what to write, I'd rather just light a fire.

But that ain't an option, because I'm doing the Lord's work, and that means I got to carry my cross, but God's at my side, so that means it's not so bad really.

I just forget sometimes and lose myself in that frustration, but stepping back, it's really not so bad... I suppose I just wish it were better... especially as the ghosts remind me of the best I ever had... not really sure what that means in my case, but it all reminds me of melancholy things, but also that in the end I'm pretty lucky all and all.

In the end, if God's with you, it's never that bad, and He's always with you.

So take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

And God Bless.

And it all makes you want to scream

A little something from the late great Michael Jackson - Scream

I've been mapping out my past, a common enough task I think, and I've found there are many benefits. You gain a degree of self-learning, a clarification of your understanding of the past, an improvement of your appreciation of good memories and good poeple, and a great story.

There are dangers though: wallowing in self-pity, obsession on the past, renewed bitterness, over-attachment to this life, etc.

But perhaps the most repeated lesson I've found looking over my past is that things were never as bad as I thought they were, nor are they ever as good.

Looking at the past also helps put the present in perspective. I can say that my current life has been a bit rough at times (though not nearly as rough as the life of others mind you), but looking back I find it's amazing that my life is at least better than this period or that period, and so it's not that bad, and I ought to thank God that I got past those past crises because they were pretty damn bad.

Take for example my crisis of April/May 2008 - where I was almost certain I was going to fail a number of classes and need to take another semester (although in retrospect it may have been a good idea to take another semester and get a CS double-major, although who knows how that would have reshaped who I am today?)

Compared to that crisis, my feelings today are light and fluffy, and while I should not take my feelings to lightly (after all, like speed they can kill), it is a bit comforting that I got over that, it chastises my self-pity a bit, and it reminds me - life can suck sometimes, but it is still worth it. I look at that period and there's no way I can reconcile it with the idea I was secretly happy, no I was miserable, but there was still a beauty in that period of life, because I strove to live and live rightly and serve God in my life. Screw the misery, even the crises are beautiful.

And I got a little Facebook posting from that period to prove my point. As miserable and self-pitying that the posting is, I like to think it's a good piece of writing, and well worth looking back upon, or for those who have not read it, for the first time upon. Especially as the most major of the points are still valid, you can always trust God to get you through the bad times, and even when the thrill of life is gone, you still got to go on (and indeed move along):

So here's the posting which I after the fact labeled "Scream":

Oh yeah, life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone

Little bit of Jack and Diane
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QT9tpKXFd8A

Of course the best thing that John Cougar Mellencamp has given us is this line from How I Met Your Mother (Aldrin Justice):

Barney: Tonight, just like John Mellencamp, I am going to get rid of the cougar once and for all.

If you don't get it watch the episode.

Anywho, I'd like to thank everyone who gave me birthday messages, it was a nice gesture. If it seems odd to not write this till now, well, my life has been a little bit of a crapstorm this last couple weeks. And now that I come to the end of this semester it seems everything is coming up failure, partial or completely, and even my successes seem to be interspliced with failure. And this has all left me pretty miserable.

If I had some time to relax and move away from that mindset, maybe that wouldn't matter so much, but I have more work to do, I have to clean up the mess I've been dealing with lately, I have to deal with potentially failing one or more classes, and this sucks. So life's not going to be enjoyable for a while now.

But life goes on. And one day, really one day, maybe in a month, maybe in two, someday probably not too far from now, I will be getting out of this crapstorm, or I will learn to deal with it. I have great faith that God will get me through all this, but I'm having trouble finding enjoyment in life anyways, and in worse case senario, and I need to deal with the aftermath of these failures and the reactions of my family to these matters, which will likely be as uncomfortable as the problems themselves, I might be living in a crapstorm till the end of the summer or beyond. But still life goes on, I'll have moments of happiness now and then, and someday life will get better. So life goes on.

Even if for now, the thrill of living is gone.

-- Fin --

So how thrilling is living now?
At times very much so, at times terrible. Are things getting better? Off and on, yes. Do I trust God for the future, I am trying to, and I think for the most part succeeding. And looking back, I can say all and all, things are not so bad, maybe not great, but, to paraphrase Hamlet:

In this sleep of life, what dreams may come?
And then in death too, what dreams might appear?

Anywho, take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

And God Bless.

Exile

As I am feeling out of sorts and out of place, perpetually, this seems appropriate, is it perfect ready? Perhaps not quite, but it has come along and fits my feelings well, and I AM RAND!

Exile

It doesn't really matter
My thoughts, my feelings, my fantasies
They are divergent from reality
Never resting on solid ground
My actions are feeble
Constrained by fear and impotence
Like breath against a hurricane
The mechanics of fate overwhelm me

Perhaps I should travel in exile
To a foreign land
Where my skills are rare and my talents novel
Where my actions are exotic and my faults mysteriously
To a place where I can be king and dictate the fate of others

But that is but a thought, a feeling, a fantasy
Divergent from reality
And it doesn't matter
Not at all

-Rand McRanderson

And I knew if I had a chance I could make those people dance

And maybe they'd be happy for a while.

I'm far from ready to say Bye Bye Ms. American Pie.

In fact, I just might write a book of love someday, I DO believe in God, because the Bible tells me so, and music will save my mortal soul... I think I've over-exhausted semi-jokes based on references to American Pie Lyrics.

But my friends, the music can't die, no matter what they tell you.

Anywho, those lines "And I knew if I had a chance I could make those people dance / and they'd be happy for a while" are classic. And like most great songs, they are classic in such a way that resonates within your soul, in a grand general sense but also in a specific personal sense. For me those lines often renew my sense of drive in my writing.

Many a writer will make grand plans to change the world, to influence great leaders, and indeed, I have a hope that my writings might help shape culture for the better. But those dreams are just hopes for happy accidents, take them seriously and they become nothing more than vanity (But isn't everything vanity?).

After all, we are subject to random variations in fame, popularity, and all such. And while I do believe God intervenes in this universe and intervenes personally for me, I do not think that every intervention is for me, and some indeed might cost me (but still they are always the right ways for the universe to work, above all else Lord, thy will be done).

Yet then again, being a writer, being an artist, being a programmer, it's not about grand influence. Yes it's about the art, but the art could exist solely in your imagination if it is just for art's sake (though that is a bit of a condensation of certain thoughts I have on art, condensed and vastly simplified because that is a post for another day). Yet the dream of being able to give some joy, to spread some beauty to other people, to make those people dance, if only for a little while... that justifies the creative process, and when all my creativity and hard work seems for nothing, I often am able to just remember those little smiles I've given to people and it all seems okay.

And indeed, it is more than okay, if you can spread some joy, even for the least and lowest of people in the world, after all, these are Christ's brothers and sisters, and if you can make them smile, Jesus too will smile. And if you can do that, all the empires and powers of this world just seem pretty irrelevant.

Always remember my friends, you're better than this world, after all you were created by someone far beyond it. Never let it take you down, and if you ever need help, remember you can always call on me, and even when I fail, there is always God, and if you trust in Him, He will deliver you. But that's enough semi-mystic Christian revelry for this session.

So take it to your head, take it to your heart, and remember Rand rocks. Goodnight Folks!

And God Bless.