October 18, 2003

Today is October the 17th, 2003. I am seething with anger, hate and venom. Yesterday evening I was numb to the core for about 6 hours. I seem to be bouncing back and forth.

Why?

Because I'm a Boston Red Sox fan. I just watched either the second-worst or worst (depending on your perspective) collapse in baseball history. Cubs fans, I got your back on this one. Both teams were up 3 runs with 5 outs to play in their corresponding LCS games. Both teams have a history of failure and disappointment that stretches out across a century. (Incidentially, we're sick of being reminded -- we know better than anyone else)

Why does it feel so bad? Some history for the uninitiated...

I was twelve years old in 1986, a bright-eyed kid who absolutely loved baseball, and loved the Red Sox. I watched Bill Buckner miss Mookie Wilson's ground ball. I saw Ray Knight jump for joy. I cried. At that age, I thought they might recover to win game 7. My dad, older, wiser, heart broken a few more times, knew better.

Seventeen years later, I had almost forgotten how awful I felt back then, let this 2003 team into my heart. And it's OK -- I loved this team, who lived by this rallying cry of "cowboy up." It was a silly quote from a great guy, Kevin Millar, who wanted to ignore all the negative energy that comes from playing baseball in Boston, ignore all the ugly past, the mythic curse. (The exact quote, for the pedantic, was "I want to see somebody cowboy up and stand behind this team and quit worrying about all the negative stuff and talking about last year's team and 10 years ago and 1986," following an August 20 8-6 loss to the Oakland A's)

I still love this team, and because I am a Red Sox fan, I'll be optimistic in April again. I love hearing the phrase "pitchers and catchers report."

Hope springs eternal.

Sometimes I wonder if this place is really worth my time. Sure, E2 is a writer’s place, a place where I can come and vent my spleen, write for the sheer exuberant fun of writing, but that shit gets old after a while.

I recently wrote a missive on intellectual property, and the volume of commentary I received rivaled that of an editorial I once wrote to a design engineer audience on vacuum tube technology. Then as now, large numbers decried and supported my position (although as always, the attackers always seem to have a higher level of energy.)

There are always those that defend the old paradigms and methodologies, just as there are those that herald the radical new as a refutation of the entrenched fossilized concepts of yore. Yet the fact remains that some concepts and mores endure.

An artist should be compensated for their effort. The wishfull fantasies of Patronage, sponsorship, peer recognition and other euphemisms of support still allude to recompense for the effort of creation. Logistics do not appear from a vacuum; money and effort must be repaid in kind, and no sane individual in this world gives their work away freely unless they have no need of the support of others. It is one thing to want a perfect world in which artists are supported simply for the sake of their art; it is an entirely different thing to actually have to make a living.

Yet my attempt to defend my right and the right of others to expect the satisfaction of the marketplace to be expressed in material goods has been greeted with mixed feeling, strange in this forum of artists who hope to eventually afford personal transportation (among other worldly goods.)

But who am I to question other’s personal positions in the war between commerce, reality, emotion, and creativity? I only hope that others find what I create useful to their soul or their endeavors, and compensate me for it. Frankly, anybody who creates anything non-corporeal that doesn't understand the concept behind intellectual property protection has issues far beyond my ability to comprehend. How do people like that generate a living? Do they sell sh*t for other people and scribble missives to the cosmos in hopes of future recognition? Do they twist dials on a f*cking machine for minimum wage and hope that posterity recognizes their creative efforts after they shuffle off the mortal coil? I write here for release and sell my writing elsewhere for what the market will bear, thank you very much.

I went and did my child dev visit today. The twins are so adorable and they gave me loads of hugs too. I could understand at that point why teenagers want children when they are young, it would make you feel loved and it gives you someone to love. I suppose if you’ve never had that having a child seems like the best thing to do.

Sometimes I try and imagine what it would be like to have a baby now and quite frankly it scares the hell out of me! I’m not responsible enough; I’m way too childish… sometimes I can barely look after myself let alone a baby. How do young mothers cope? I think that maybe I admire them and I know that I think they are stupid for getting themselves in that situation but at least they have the guts to follow it through. Abortion is something that I could never, ever do. To me it is murder and that isn’t right, is it?

I’m in one of those thoughtful moods again, I seem to have so much on my mind right now and every time I sit here and write this I try and explain what I am thinking and what I am feeling. I feel as though the rest of my life is so very far away right now. Everyone around me has so many expectations of me, which is putting me under a lot of pressure. I always get the impression that they feel I have to beat Phil, that I have to better than him. Since when has life been a competition? Sometimes I just want to shout and scream, I’m nothing like him… Right now I am concentrating on just passing them, I don’t have anything to prove and I don’t want to beat Phil.

Have you ever noticed that there is a lot of sibling rivalry? People always say that you have to try and be better than your sibling but I don’t see it. My brother and I have always been very different, linked by our passion of writing, music and wicked sense of humour. Our intelligence is very different, he likes to work at things but if I can’t do something I move on… people say I have such more potential then Phil ever did, what does that matter? How am I supposed to get along with my life and passing these exams if I have to make sure I am better than him?

I try and tell these people that being better is not my main aim. Sometimes I feel like a failure if I do not do as well as Phil did when he was my age, things could be worse, I could completely flunk everything. What would my peers say to that? You what? I couldn’t care less; I’ll try my best, no more or less.

(A lonely LCD display glitters in the user settings panel:)

You are ignoring: ...

CLICK

No I'm not.

(The wolf paws around and types stuff to the panel, and pulls the door open.)

*Click* *Zzzzzzwhoomp* *Blinkblinkblink* Right, so this is where it all happened...

Wonder if this old search box still works.

*ssszzzszszap*

Yup...

---

I'm hoping I will be staying here just as much as earlier. The reasons for my recent absence were wide enough:

1. The summer vacation. You know, I have this stupid mental condition: If I ever quit doing something for a while, I have severe problems getting up to speed again later on.
2. The studies. Studies continue. I need to do two more course assignments before Oct 31, so don't expect me to be here at full speed. But I have to try!
3. Wasting time on other sites. There are no words that describe how bored I am. At least in E2 I can waste a lot of time and learn cool stuff. This is interesting stuff!

I hear people have missed me. I'm sorry, I have been busy. My apologies. I honestly try to do stuff on this site more often now. I can't believe I did three writeups during last two months and one was a dream log! You know, computer stuff makes me feel like an old man ("170 kb per floppy, uphill in snow both ways! And we liked it!") but I refuse to believe it's also making me senile...

I also noted people have left E2 meanwhile. *sigh* I can't describe what I feel. All I can say is that I'm feeling dustier and dustier. I'm still, as ever, the guy who sits on the chair in the library while people come and go. I'm observing, the world changes.

But I will node again.