Archive for August, 2008

the first time I’ve mentioned my favorite program

Friday, August 22nd, 2008

I’m as friable as a crisp papadum.

I can’t even get a fucking blog to function, I want to do too many things, I’m easily distracted. I don’t know. I find it difficult to be honest with myself anymore. If I’m sad, I certainly don’t want to know about it. Impenetrable. That’s what I am. To myself at least. At least recently.

Disclaimer: I never imagined writing an entry about software. Who the fuck am I to presume I have any authority to do so? But software has really been bothering me lately. At worst, it’s impeded my communication with well, you know- whatever- the rest of the world, like, in a blog, see?

Very simply, I used to use a program called iBlog, made by some smart dude in India. You could keep all your files on your computer and work on them absent the internet, even. However, the files were not easily exportable to other formats, and the interfaced changed and I wasn’t as fond of it, and then, it wasn’t quite keeping up with operating system upgrades… you know…

So I looked for another way, and actually tried iWeb, also good for me because files are kept locally. However, it’s a program for idiots and nearly impossible to customize and you can’t create your own templates so despite its convenient integration with iPhoto and all that apple crap, I became frustrated. The upload time is incredibly slow, and it works best with mac.com for which I had an account but little faith- now, even less since it’s recent transmogrification into me.com.

My greatest hope and most of my tinkering energy has been put into creating a blog with my very favorite program of all, Tinderbox (by eastgate systems). No one else I know uses this program- wait- that’s a lie! I met a guy at a conference at the University of FLA in Gainesville who has used it and is a buddy of Mark Bernstein, the creator of Tinderbox.*

I have the feeling that Tinderbox can solve every problem I’ve ever had and I’ve been using it for FOUR YEARS AT LEAST as a thought receptacle. The thing is, the reason I’m so attracted to this program is that I can see how simply and elegant the overall concept is, but the documentation is so scanty and mortally flawed that it’s hardly worth consulting. No one with impoverished experience in computer languages uses this program- I suppose Bernstein assumed an entry level understanding far greater than mine.

Tinderbox can generate blog files and automate the handling of information in the documents I’ve built to organize research for my next book. However, you’ve got to write your own scripts or actions for much of this sort of excitement to function, and I’VE FAILED MISERABLY and REPEATEDLY. Nevertheless, It’s become an exciting hobby for me, like trying to win a stupid game on your goddamn little hand-held electronic toy. Somehow, losing is fun, or at least provocative, if, like me, you foolishly harbor a belief that someday you WILL PREVAIL, and that all your efforts will have been worth it. No fear of regrets.

This sort of frustration is my idea of fun.

But this blog was not created with Tinderbox. It is made with WordPress, a fine product, yes indeed, but nevertheless a reminder of my failed experiments……

Tinderbox: my idea of a great time.

Tinderbox: my idea of a great time.

*However, this person prefers a more linear sort of thought organization, and doesn’t regularly use the program.

at times like this I feel absolutely helpless

Friday, August 22nd, 2008

and I wonder why I have no one I could look to for help. I feel sorry for myself I guess, but sadder yet, I feel sorry for everyone.
I can’t do everything. Why do I forget that so easily?
I want things to be better. I really really do.
I need to post a picture even if I don’t have one relevant to the subject under consideration.

<i>Have I forgotten something?</i>

Have I forgotten something?

this is Karl at supper

Friday, August 22nd, 2008
<i>Mr Karl Longstreth with one of his favorite musical recordings</i>

Mr Karl Longstreth with one of his favorite musical recordings

this is my mother

Friday, August 22nd, 2008
<i>my mother walking in Ann Arbor</i>

my mother walking in Ann Arbor

this is Angel

Friday, August 22nd, 2008
<i>Spain Rodriguez, me, und Angel de la Calle</i>

Spain Rodriguez, me, und Angel de la Calle

this is Joanne

Friday, August 22nd, 2008
<i>Joanne Leonard's glass earring</i>

Joanne Leonard's glass earring

this is Doug

Tuesday, August 12th, 2008

Douglas Braithwaite, precocious talent and native of the British Isles.

<i>Douglas Braithwaite, precocious talent. </i>"

if only we could all be so big

Monday, August 11th, 2008

did you ever walk around

Monday, August 11th, 2008

<i>down the street and around the corner a few years ago</i>

down the street and around the corner a few years ago


If you look closely, you’ll see police activity in the distance. Two men were shot. They did not die. I don’t know who shot them or why. The house has been for sale and for rent since then, more or less.
I was looking for a picture of my neighborhood but and got distracted by this photograph but I was thinking of saying something less directly related to a crime.
I was walking to the supermarket this evening. It’s about two miles away, too far for most people to carry groceries. I just wanted washing machine detergent. I actually just wanted to walk, so why not go buy this thing you need anyway, I thought.
I felt so happy as I walked. Every house looked beautiful and fascinating. I saw very few people, but through one window I saw on a table a glass salad bowl with a few leaves left stuck to the sides… I saw lots of little things in lots of windows and I felt like I could have kept walking all the way around the world just for the pleasure of looking at more and more houses, places where people live, and it was fine to be on the outside, just looking.

this is Pipsqueak

Saturday, August 9th, 2008

<i>PipSqueak at a cafe</i>

Pipsqueak at a cafe


I struggle so with managing my mind. Do other people have such trouble focusing on the matter-at-hand?
Pip, you look as if you are as desperate as I am. Poor kitty. Poor Phoebe