weekend ramblings
Posting from home for once, because... ta dah! we have DSL now. I was listening to a BBC program the other day about how the lack of broadband access to rural West African villages limits the economic opportunities of the people living in them, and the UNESCO programs being extended to address that lack. So it's good to know that here on my mountain, an hour from the heart of Silicon Valley, we're slightly in advance of technological progress in rural West Africa. :D
We had a busy long weekend away from home. Most of it was spent in Watsonville working on the hearse monster. With notable highlights spent in the company of
seathroughghost and
dyingeagle and a convivial Thursday night drinking and laughing with the south bay pirate crew. Saturday we took the evening off from automotive slavery to go to the Santa Cruz boardwalk. The last time I went there was on an early date with
dionysusdevotee. Apparently that's where his parents went on their first date, too. So that about set the tone for the day. Amusement parks, I find, are best enjoyed as a sort of pretense, where you pretend to be interested in the rides and games but really are there mainly to walk around with a moony smile on your face holding hands and kissing in the dark in the haunted house. I forgot how much fun a haunted house is if you go in there in the right company. Also I forgot that Santa Cruz is a beach town, and thusly not hot even in the summertime, and one should probably wear something more substantial than a silk wraparound miniskirt. Particularly if one plans to get tossed about the sky on windy rollercoaster rides. I got cold. Spicy Indian food with hot chai fixed me up though.
I managed to fail to view any fireworks, although I heard some premature ejaculators firing them off Thursday night round the neighborhood where we were. Fireworks are pretty and all, but I could take it or leave it. Whenever I've been to a 4th of July fireworks display I usually find myself captured into an anthropological frame of mind by the spectacle of the way people celebrate it. Drinking a lot of beer and blowing shit up seems to be requisite activity and then everybody clusters together to gaze at colorful explosives and listen to the national anthem chanting about the rockets red glare and the bombs bursting in air and generally have a moment of unconsciously worshiping explosive warfare. It just strikes me as an odd kind of holiday. But very, very Merkan.
Last night I had some deep dreams.
We had a busy long weekend away from home. Most of it was spent in Watsonville working on the hearse monster. With notable highlights spent in the company of
seathroughghost and
dyingeagle and a convivial Thursday night drinking and laughing with the south bay pirate crew. Saturday we took the evening off from automotive slavery to go to the Santa Cruz boardwalk. The last time I went there was on an early date with
dionysusdevotee. Apparently that's where his parents went on their first date, too. So that about set the tone for the day. Amusement parks, I find, are best enjoyed as a sort of pretense, where you pretend to be interested in the rides and games but really are there mainly to walk around with a moony smile on your face holding hands and kissing in the dark in the haunted house. I forgot how much fun a haunted house is if you go in there in the right company. Also I forgot that Santa Cruz is a beach town, and thusly not hot even in the summertime, and one should probably wear something more substantial than a silk wraparound miniskirt. Particularly if one plans to get tossed about the sky on windy rollercoaster rides. I got cold. Spicy Indian food with hot chai fixed me up though.
I managed to fail to view any fireworks, although I heard some premature ejaculators firing them off Thursday night round the neighborhood where we were. Fireworks are pretty and all, but I could take it or leave it. Whenever I've been to a 4th of July fireworks display I usually find myself captured into an anthropological frame of mind by the spectacle of the way people celebrate it. Drinking a lot of beer and blowing shit up seems to be requisite activity and then everybody clusters together to gaze at colorful explosives and listen to the national anthem chanting about the rockets red glare and the bombs bursting in air and generally have a moment of unconsciously worshiping explosive warfare. It just strikes me as an odd kind of holiday. But very, very Merkan.
Last night I had some deep dreams.