Had to do one more.

Disappointment?!

The world’s most abandoned places. Old Japanese coal mines, Pripyat, Kowloon Walled City… very awesome.


I still am.
[Update: not any more]

My projector screen is sweet. Can’t wait to get a projector for it and get my Mario Kart on.

Can it be possible that this planet has actually spawned such things; that human eyes can have truly seen, as objective flesh, what man has hitherto known only in febrile fantasy and tenuous legend?

And yet I saw them in a limitless stream – flopping, hopping, croaking, bleating – surging inhumanly through the spectral moonlight in a grotesque, malignant saraband of fantastic nightmare.

H.P. Lovecraft

Seems that human folks has got a kind o’ relation to sech water-beasts – that everything alive come aout o’ the water onct, an’ only needs a little change to go back agin. Them things told the Kanakys that ef they mixed bloods there’d be children as ud look human at fust, but later turn more’n more like the things, till finally they’d take to the water an jine the main lot o’ things daown har. An’ this is the important part, young feller – them as turned into fish things an’ went into thre water wouldn’t never die. Them things never died excep’ they was kilt violent.

Lovecraft, The Shadow Over Innsmouth

Tempest art: the only kind of art that should be allowed.

I should write movies

Are you ready for this? Hero gets in a fight with a bad guy, and destroys the bad guy so utterly that he is completely disintegrated. And then the hero says “You’ll be mist.”

What, that is solid gold.

Don’t go to L.A.


Every time I go back, I like it less, and I never liked it much to begin with. Someone once said of Los Angeles “It’s a nice place to live, but I wouldn’t want to visit.” Well, he got it half right. I can’t think of a less appealing place to exist, whether it’s Santa Monica, Long Beach, or what passes for a Downtown.

Like a huge, dirty suburb, nothing is “original” in that place. It was built to be the city it is, a city for cars to go in straight lines forever, a city to go to a dirty beach and be afraid to touch the ocean, a city with no resources but its population’s inexhaustible supply of self-delusion.

The air is bad, the water is bad, the architecture is bad, the coffee is bad, and the people, while not bad, are the same as everywhere else: not good.

I’m sorry if I’m insulting all the people I know and care about who live or lived in that city, but good lord, you’re the exceptions and you need to get the hell out of there.

Oh dear. This is why you don’t do that.

Map of my new apartment

Am I weird for doing this?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7wmwALYYn_4

A little tour from my old apartment to my new one. Wish that little camera had a wider angle lens, though, it’s hard to really tell the size of the place. I’ll take pictures once I move some stuff in.

Hmm, it’s staying small. Better watch it at YouTube.

(Source: http://www.youtube.com/)

Yes, E3. I’m pretty goddamn sure.

Beautiful art, although I can’t say I agree with his treatment of the books.

The internet as lens for tragedy

The internet is the ultimate buffer to human contact and the realities of life. It’s amazing and depressing to think that you could spend your life without meeting another person and yet amass more knowledge than anyone in any previous age. Yet it’s run by people, obscured as they are behind user names, email addresses, and avatars. And in an event which has humanized the internet somewhat for me, the person in charge of a site I frequently visited has died. This person, by the name of Ice (Jason in real life), ran EmuAsylum, a site which hosted emulators and ROMs for old-school video games, which have been a hobby of mine for years. He updated the site regularly for years, respected the law as far as he was required (it’s a legal grey area), and provided something I consider valuable for free. As it turns out, he was very ill, and early last month he died. I didn’t know him, I never had any contact with him. I don’t know how old he was, what he was like, how he died, or anything like that. But my week was dimmed by his death anyway, and not because the site, invaluable to me, will probably slow down and disappear now. The realities of social contact are changing: we put so much of ourselves on the net, and take so much from it, that it is becoming a legitimate, if sort of nebulous, form of real connection even when two people never meet or exchange a single line. Anyway, I don’t mean to be sentimental, but I just thought I’d post my thoughts on this as a sort of meta-eulogy for the guy. RIP, Jason, and thanks for everything.