Archive for August, 1999

j: q

I’ve been thinking about a question that I was asked a while ago by A. If I could make a law that reduced the speed limits by 10 mph and I knew that by doing so I would reduce the car crash mortality rates by 15% would I do it?

I’m not going to go into the many lines of thought that this question opens for me, only set the stage for a later journal by saying that the much more pungent question for me at this point is if I knew that if everyone drove 10 mph slower that it would reduce mortality rates would I? Even if noone else was.

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shameless plug

This is something that I don’t think I’ve ever seen this list used for before; a job troll. I am currently committed to work from 7:00 – 11:00 in the morning monday through friday in Clement Hall. There is no way that I am going to be able to maintain any kind of a sleep schedule with the number of classes and extra curricular activities that I have going on.

For this reason I am going to give up my 7:00 – 9:00 shift. Actually I am the point now to where if I am forced to work this shift I will quit working helpdesk which is something that I really do not want to do. I really dislike not being able to cover this shift but I am slowly learning that I can’t, in fact, do everything.

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for: to S on openness

From:	TTU::WJH3957      "W.J. Holcomb -- Mr. Happy =)" 15-AUG-1999 23:25:07.89
To:	S
Subj:	journal

I was lying on the floor getting ready to go to sleep and I was thinking about talking to you and how things have been going and I decided I wanted you to have this. I wrote this last night but I didn’t send it to you because I know that it is really weird to talk about these kinds of things with large numbers of people and I don’t want you to be afraid to be around me or let me know something that you want kept secret because you’re afraid that I will blab it all over the place.

I like being an open person. I dislike feeling like I have parts of myself that are not acceptable. Learning not to feel that way has meant not treating parts of myself like that. I try hard with this writing group to stay open and I consider each of the people on it to be trustworthy and compassionate.

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sj: rship

Well, it’s 4:30 in the morning and I feel like writing some. I just dropped S off about half an hour ago and I’ve been sitting around thinking about stuff.

One of the things that I am thinking about is who I would like to send this to. Well, I know who I would like to send it to but I wonder who it is appropriate to send it to. A, I would like to talk about stuff going on with me and S and B, I know that sex talks weird alot of people out.

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j: fuzzy math

Mathematics is about relationship. It is a complete abstraction that mankind has created to represent the natural relationships that he sees in the world around him.

Do numbers exist? No. There is no such thing as a two outside of your head. You can point to a set of objects and say that they are a two, but they’re not. The objects are just there, we associate certain concepts with them that aid up in manipulating them. Over the course of time humanity has developed shorthand and notations for the relationships that it sees. Numbers are a very basic form of that; our capacity to recognize patterns and assign labels to those different patterns (the process of abstraction) is claimed by some to be the hallmark of intelligence that separates man from beast.

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for: another data point

This one’s not mine; it’s S’s reply to my last letter. I don’t think that she would like me sharing this with you probably but I think that it gives important context. For that reason however this one (and the fact that I sent it) is private.

I’m still of the philosophical opinion that tact is lying and that I am deceiving S by not telling her that I am sending you this; I’m just more comfortable lying than I once was.

Anyhow here it is. I’ll write tomorrow about the stuff that I am thinking that I wasn’t brave enough to tell her. Well, perhaps better put the not so nice stuff that I thought she would leave me for if I said. I’ll write about that and how dishonest I feel most of the time. Nothing seems to be 100% true. I’m kinda where I am talking to her from and I’m kinda not. I really want to be there though.

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sj: everlast

We've all seen the man at the liquor store beggin' for your change
The hair on his face is dirty, dread-locked, and full of mange
He asks a man for what he could spare, with shame in his eyes
"Get a job you fucking slob," is all he replies
God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in his shoes
'Cause then you really might know what it's like to sing the blues

Then you really might know what it's like...

Mary got pregnant from a kid named Tom that said he was in love
He said, "Don't worry about a thing, baby doll
I'm the man you've been dreaming of."
But 3 months later he say he won't date her or return her calls
And she swear, "God damn, if I find that man I'm cuttin' off his balls."
And then she heads for the clinic and
she gets some static walking through the door
They call her a killer, and they call her a sinner
and they call her a whore
God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in her shoes
'Cause then you really might know what it's like to have to choose

Then you really might know what it's like...

I've seen a rich man beg
I've seen a good man sin
I've seen a tough man cry
I've seen a loser win
And a sad man grin
I heard an honest man lie
I've seen the good side of bad
And the downside of up
And everything between
I licked the silver spoon
Drank from the golden cup
And smoked the finest green
I stroked the fattest dimes at least a couple of times
before I broke their heart
You know where it ends, yo, it usually depends on where you start

I knew this kid named Max
who used to get fat stacks out on the corner with drugs
He liked to hang out late
he liked to get shit-faced and keep the pace with thugs
Until late one night there was a big old fight and Max lost his head
He pulled out his chrome .45, talked some shit, and wound up dead
Now his wife and his kids are caught in the midst of all of this pain
You know it comes that way
at least that's what they say when you play the game
God forbid you ever had to wake up to hear the news
'Cause then you really might know what it's like to have to lose

Then you really might know what it's like...

  "What it's like" by Everlast
    from the album 'Whitey Ford Sings the Blues'

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for: data point — letter to S

From:	TTU::WJH3957  "W.J. Holcomb -- Mr. Happy =)"  9-AUG-1999 19:28
To:	S
Subj:	long mail

I am feeling kinda grumpy. I didn’t get to sleep til last night and I’ve been trying to get these computers to talk to each other so that I can do the stack of CD’s that people want done but its been like beating my head against the wall all day. Then I went to supper and my dad acted like I’ve been goofing off all day when he has no idea how hard this stuff is (despite how I talk about it sometimes.)

I’m just in an ill temper. I think I could use a nap.

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j: notes from the road

Well, here I am again sitting in front of my trusty computer post a week of deprivation in Sedona, Arizona. The withdrawal was rough for a couple of days but after a bit the constant doses of radiation that I have grown accustomed to gradually leached out of my system somewhat and the glazed look faded a bit from my eyes. Whenever things would get especially bad I would just hold my head by the TV for half an hour or so and it would calm my nerves.

I am unfortunately much the worse for wear walking wise. (Am I alliterate or what?) =) I still quite haven’t learned that just because I get a little bit better does not mean that I can promptly push myself to the limit again. I did get to see some awesome scenery but my pain is starting to work its way from my leg into my back; so I am now the hunchbacked gimp. I heard that! Don’t make me hobble over there and… ummm… don’t make me come over there! I am going in to the doctor on Monday (seriously this time.) =)

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