the poetry of madness
Name: Lord Malinov
driven by curiousity and an intense need for understanding, I strive to learn and express in every step of the marvelous journey that life is providing
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duckpower
Euclid's Elements
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Journal of Desire
Malinov's Romances
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The tension of teaching someone to drive comes from paying close attention to something and exercising no control. I spend ninety-nine percent of the time helping her stay relaxed and focused.
Driving is so simple that the hardest part is paying continual attention, particularly when attention deficient. As a sensory experience, however, it can be an excellent balancing activity.
The kids have joined their mother for the day. I am relieved. They are among the few demands I cannot ignore, so their time with me is largely surrendered. I'm going to find my way back into the stream of humanity, test my skills further.
We went out for ice cream last night, Henry's, a local favorite. A pretty girl scooped the boys dishes for me, extra-large smalls. Matthew was terribly impressed by the portion and couldn't stop remarking on it, making the girl blush. We knew why she was generous. She looked a bit like Sabrina. I caught her eye for a smile.
"Of course," interjected Tess. She's always been aware of how women react to me, far more than I have been.
In sixth grade, I was totally traumatized by a girl - an unattractive and unpleasant girl - who insensitively assaulted me with an endless and vociferous campaign of love. I resisted politely but the storm only gained fury. No one could make this girl stop feeling the way she did and her actions were objectively just annoying. No one could help me. Assertive rejection and endurance brought me out from her cruel torment.
The experience left me wary. I evoked reactions I was not prepared to handle, so I tried to avoid them as best I could, did my best to prevent evocation. My skill set has grown considerably. Let the evocations begin.
Pushy people don't scare me anymore. ole. I can be as scary as anyone, if need be. Crafty and scary.
Life is way too short to be pushed around, especially be fools. I don't mind being pushed by someone who knows what they're doing. Its the idiots who need to keep their pushiness to themselves.
Jeez.
I think I'll go get a job tomorrow. I'm bored with being poor and what the hell, if I'm going to be bored, I might as well be rich. The first thing I need to do is get a house with a pool. Living in Texas without a pool is really brutal. Vacation to Mexico.
On that note,
Enjoy
M
I live, a monument to forty-four years of driven curiousity.
I know as much, in ways, as anyone alive. A mere pixel in a Universe of what can be known.
Sometimes I feel like Khan, soaking up the ship's computer files as quickly as the display can render. Multiple layers of media fill my senses almost constantly as I study - the world swirls in a dance of color as I move among the breathing summer expanses. Reeling.
I fill my soul with the peace of a fading calm dream. I dissolve my mind in the collapse of tensed energy.
Beauty's eyes search me out. Feel the heat connecting. Inhale the passion as motion begins.
Fear of aggressions drove me into hiding. How do we escape the insensitive?
How do the sensitive connect?
Tendrils of kindness - soft undercurrents - ecstatic cravings in sensuous moans
My daughter sits beside me, learning to drive, the infant I carried in my arms. She carries worlds of me within her. No one ever listened so well. She's become a beautiful woman. What a lucky man I am.
I have armed her with knowledge.
She called herself an idiot when she overran her stop. Not at all. Learn from mistakes. Stupidity is when you don't learn from your mistakes. Driving is complex. You will make simple mistakes when attempting complexity. Keep trying. Keep learning. Make more mistakes.
After fifteen years of determined indoctrination, I believe she understands. Far better than I did at her age, no doubt. I know so many things my parents never taught me. My kids are definitely profiting from my mistakes.
The kitten - often known as Bruce during the day and batcat at night, with a little Fez and some other possibles - has been fully welcomed to the pack. The largest predators would probably eat him, given a proper chance, but with the alliance of cats on his side, I think the dark knight is safe for the non. He is an exceedingly playful and affectionate little thing. The doctor puts him about two months.
Enjoy,
M
The pizza girl rejected me, while asking me to stay. A qualified no is a delayed yes, so I'm pleased with my progress. The sprite accepted my proposition, with the caveat of a pending serious relationship. I'm not sure what that means practically, although I suspect it is bad news for him, whomever he might be. I can be quite irresistable when I want to be.
So I dream, anyway.
I gave her a volume of plays - masterpieces of modern drama, no less - one of my favorite books. I often give books as gifts, but I have never given anyone one of my books. I think it was the Universe's idea.
Alyssa - I finally learned to spell her name so that I could inscribe the book. Few people have ever charmed me so quickly. Radiant, sensitive, intelligent passion.
I was given the opportunity to introduce myself in letters, a vastly different experience than meeting my flesh. There are few delights more challenging than composing the seduction of someone I barely know. The poetry has to seep into the words without purpling them. Delicate twists and turns of phrase, evocation, invocation and navigation. Colors to temper the rhythms. And alliteration.
I think I wrote the best letter ever. I always think that. I'm often right. I keep getting better.
She is young. Though she is well read, I doubt she has ever seen such wordcraft alive. Or I hope. Perhaps I overestimate myself, and underestimate her. It is always probable. Nonetheless, I am eager to discover the effects of my serenade. Can she resist my charms?
I mowed the lawns and rode my bike, singing Red House. Laying down blues licks while rolling gently through campus is a great way to make coeds smile. I love life when ladies are happy.
The kids have returned, slowing down the social scene, thank heavens. Sometimes I wear myself out. The heat is oppressive, almost a winter of summer, as we're forced indoors. Some of the evenings have been gorgeous, so I've done some walking after dark.
My guitar playing and singing have become true joys. It can be very difficult to stop, once I begin. My voice, in particular, is gaining serious strength.
My headhunter has been silent. I must check to see that he remains awake. July is so sleepy.
Enjoy,
M
I was quite amazed to witness the machinations of our Universe as the grey kitten was delivered to my lap.
My amazement had only just begun.
I finally snatched another opportunity to speak to Elyssa. I approached her as someone complained about her plans to leave Dallas in another month. She told me she was going to Massachusetts. Brrr.
What would she do there?
This is where the Universe makes certain I acknowledge the machinations. Busy, busy, busy.
"I'm going to direct Shakespeare."
The spew of words following would quickly out any posing. We delved and tested each other, detailing our bardish tendencies and finally settling on a discussion of Pirandello. Real deal.
My social mission has been to get to know people without becoming emotionally entangled. I have this strong pull to care, even about people I have no reason to care about. While there are many positive to empathy, it becomes a severe limitation when caring about others overwhelms care for those I seriously care about. I must care less about people I have no reason to care about.
Got that?
So I'm practicing maintaining a proper social distance, with great success. Is the Universe going to make this easy? Not bloody likely.
My mother used to say, "Easy? Why would you want things easy? That's no fun." Apparently the Universe has been consulting with my mother. And I have to agree. This won't be easy, but it will definitely be fun. I could frolic with a dramatist for ages. I have so many ideas.
She has been playing Puck, hence the ultra-short hair. Busy, busy, busy.
M
"let's get ready to go out," I said as the evening began to wane.
"where we going?"
"let's get a drink or dessert or something."
I drove to the Pit and stepped up to the bar. Steven asked me for an order.
"I don't know." I replied. "I don't know why I'm here."
"you do too know."
Cats knows my patterns. My interest in Elisa had not been masked, but I had no real reason to think she would be working. She wasn't.
"there's a kitten on the patio," I soon observed. Cats stepped outside.
We have a new tiny cat, as yet unnamed. I like "Mechanacore, Kitten of Doom," but am determined to find the perfect name.
Once upon a time, I had a cat named Sugar. She was a wayward teenage cat who slipped out of the house just as her first heat hit and came home three days later, reeking of alchohol and preggers. She soon delivered five kittens. They are so much fun.
The Universe tipped to put a new kitten in my hands. The girls at the restaurant were worried about the kitten, especially as Dallas has been pushing one ten and more this last week. He's about two months old, but there don't seem to be any other cats around.
We sat in the parking lot for about an hour, using the Kratt brothers technique for befriending animals. I realized that this is exactly the same strategy I have begun using on people. Let them get used to you and then gently tempt them toward you. Once in Cats hands, the kitten began a purr-fest that hasn't stopped. Greg has been playing with him for the last hour, since he got here. He's pushing for blackjack, a pretty good name, I must say.
Cats and I went out with the Pit crew for a birthday party. The birthday boy was lured into extreme drunkeness, which made me feel bad for him, as there are so many better things to do than puke. We socialized like old pros. Who would have believed that we could eradicate decades of social anxiety?
As the party came to an end, as the bar closed, I sat near Elisa. I had been watching her all night, fascinated by the expressions she made. She is pretty but not in a fabulous way, with simple symmetries. She is excitably nervous, eager and active. For all that, there is something in her eyes, in her voice, in her manner, in her style and attitude. Not a mirror, for she is quite unlike me in many ways. Intelligent, soulful, passion. Sparks or a real fire? I cannot help but wonder.
We spoke for a few minutes, politely pausing as some guy neither of us knew provided a delightfully irrelevant tale. She exuded fascination and fear - more nervous than I was in a manner that I would have perceived as distaste, but now see as quite the opposite. I didn't offer any plans. Patience, Iago.
M
When I moved to DC, I fell under the wing of a fellow Kansan who had done a stint of undergrad at American and was beginning his term at Georgetown Law. Dave drank hard. I quickly learned that keeping up with the boys was an empty contest. The winner died when his liver failed a few years ago.
Drinking is for the birds. A little lubrication can be nice, but as an intoxicant, it really sucks.
Our new compadres have invited us to birthday parties both tonight and tomorrow night. Sunday nights are discounted at the strip club, hence the two-stage celebration. I have reason to believe that we will get to know the sprite a little better, perhaps a lot better. She is reputedly returning today. "Your favorite is coming back tomorrow," he said. I feared some competitive opposition from the waiter, but he seemed eager to assist my quest to know her. Good man.
The sprite is charismatic. I wonder what it is about her.
The children should be returning today, although we are still sketchy on the details. I'm sure it will be an interesting week, as always.
M
Last night, I was flirting with a pretty blonde waitress. Hilary Duffish, I am told. Twenty-five, give or take a few dozen months. I practice flirting with every woman who will listen.
"How old are you?" I'm so used to being taken for young that I never even considered being defensive.
"I'm old. And evil. If you're good, you should probably stay away from me."
"Well, you're honest."
Cats and I had gone for a late dinner at the Pit after working on my wardrobe. As I prepare to assert myself into society, I must have a costume. I had been trying to imagine a style, but life needs to many options to enable a consistent style across the spectrum. Realizing that I have some clothes which garner far more reaction than others, I took Cats to my closet and asked her to pick out my best look.
Cornflower blue. Blues have always complimented my eyes. Cornflower blue takes them to another level.
I have a suitably blue Underdog shirt on now. My t-shirt last night had them weak.
Although my non-food interest in the Pit remains the ladies, far greater progress has been made in befriending the guys. One of the bartenders and one of the waiters are roommates. One is a loveable pothead and the other has been forbidden by the management to have sex with anyone who steps into the Pit. These are my kind of guys.
Loveable like Stewpot.
We joined the guys at a bar down the street and began a bout of lewd gossip and humorous getting to know each other. Cats told of her tequila overdose in Cancun, when I carried her half-naked to my room, explaining to the onlookers that I'd won her in a card game. I'm so funny.
The guys feigned amusement until I explained the miraculous part was her speedy recovery, that we had been back to party again four hours later, during which I remember watching "Love and Basketball."
One of the guys guessed a shower had been used to resuscitate her. We all took a moment to imagine Cats in the shower. At thirty-six, she can easily pass for twenty-two. Five one. Long red hair. Such wonderful curves. Ah, Bach.
Then I described the assistance rendered by my eX, providing visions of two beautiful naked women holding each other in the shower.
Cats is not a big woman by any measure. One drinking game she really sucks at is "keeping up with the boys." She disappeared into the bathroom for a while. Soon I had word that she was not well.
The young waitresses of the establishment were very alarmed. Partly because she was quite sick and partly because she was wearing a flouncy little linen skirt with nothing underneath. Cats is an evil companion par excellance. Natasha has nothing on her.
As I helped her stumble to the car, the love around us was beautiful. Everyone cared, even to the point of constantly questioning my credentials as her evil companion. I brought her home and plopped her into the waterbed. She's still in bed. She won't be playing "keeping up with the boys" with alcohol anymore. I'm sure she'll find another way to keep up.
Who knows - if she hadn't lost her cookies, she may have indulged in a major cockfest. A general atmosphere of lust filled the air. Ah, life.
M
I believe the word "sub-conscious" is incorrect, inappropriate and misleading. Defining the unconscious as an under-consciousness creates immediate problems. There is no reason to believe that the conscious forms this sort of leadership "over" the unconsious. Quite the contrary.
The unconscious is everything that we are not conscious of. We have reason to believe that we have access to personal unconscious content, but self-observation leads to inherently subjective data, which cannot serve as the basis of a non-statistical science.
I think therefore I am implies that I am my consciousness. Yet I surrender my consciousness daily to an extended period of unconsciousness - regardless of any conscious intent otherwise. As my mind works while I sleep, there may be elements of consciousness during my unconsciousness.
If I never regain consciousness, it is as if I had died. Subtle consciousness might survive as my body lives. My body can live without consciousness, although it isn't much fun. As a mind winds down, when does self-consciousness cease?
How is consciousness related to self-consciousness? Now there is an interesting question.
What happens to us when we become unconscious? Us, the self-conscious entities. No one knows. No one can ever know. Unconsciousness negates self-consciousness.
Subconscious implies a layered mental space. We know nothing of the structure. Unconsious is the appropriate term, in my lexicon.
Our consciousness is periodically and necessarily extinguished and subsequently resuscitated by purely natural processes. I would assert that our consciousness is a natural product of the unconscious. We are reflections of the structure of the nether.
I suspect that we have always existed. Just a hunch. I've never completely bought into the time concept.
M
No one makes me more ashamed to be an American than J. Edgar Hoover. I think the FBI has become a true american icon, but the man who created them was a monster of the worst kind. The Soviets conducted a de-Stalinization. We should have a de-Hooverization. I would love to see him expunged from history, except for the fact that history is really un-expungable. So far as I know, anyway.
America - as we, the true America-loving Americans - was born when John Adams insisted on providing a rigorous defense for the Brits who participated in the Boston massacre. We are not good people because we destroy the bad people. We are good people because we insist on treating the bad people just as fairly as we treat the good people. Hoover did not understand this basic American principle.
The ends do not justify the means. The ends never justify the means.
I learned last night that my favorite waitress - who has been missing for nearly a week - is vacationing in New Jersey with her boyfriend. This answered several important questions and gave me reason to believe that my success is waiting. She'll soon be back. She's not a lesbian. She has a long-distance boyfriend. I like my chances. Some one in Jersey will soon be sporting horns.
I'm usually not concerned with the lesbian issue, but the quirkiness of her behavior and very short hair gave me reason to doubt. Obviously, she has girly tendencies, but I find that most women do, in the right circumstances. I certainly don't mind. Lesbians of the anti-male sort, however, can pose a bit of a problem for me. I can charm most anyone, but I am undeniably male.
Long distance relationship is an oxymoron. I've never seen an LDR that could withstand even basic temptations. Ah, the fools.
You can't please everyone, so you ought to please yourself.
I have been declared "family" and "a regular" by the restaurant. I'm still not getting comps or even a family discount, however, so it is mostly an honorary designation.
I'm busily doing recon on the dozen candidate employers. It is my ambition to present myself ideally to each group. Ah, the fun life brings.
M
There are few things in this world uglier than anger, hatred and bitterness. These forces work through our souls as time goes by. It is essential that we let go of these feelings as soon as we can. They are destructive forces and will disintegrate our being if retained.
Avoid angry people. Avoid hateful people. Avoid bitter people. Keep an eye on them. They can become dangerous. Do not breathe their air. Negativity is highly contagious.
The pizza girl seems delighted with our positions - I can only flirt with her by buying dinner and she can always retreat with a giggle into the kitchen. She knows how much I like her and knows I am stuck. How can I press her buttons if she keeps them out of reach?
The simplest solution would be to start pressing someone else's buttons where she can see, providing some vicarious button pushes. The proximity of her rather adorable younger sister makes that someone else a simple choice. A few words would suffice to excite the girl. The pizza girl would have to react to this sudden shifting current.
I'm not sold on the strategy, but unless I can think of something else, I may give it a go. I don't want to create a portrayal where I am a total blackguard, although I have definitely decided that presenting myself as a goodly prince charming will never work.
I am also wary of corrupting innocents. I'm not fond of hemlock, even as a mixer. I have done my share of corruption - more than my share, if all is said - but that is an aspect that does not make me proud. Showing people the ways of sin is not my chosen role. I fancy myself more of a tour-guide, once they've crossed the frontier.
I've had to chase away good girls since I became an adult. My good provider skills have always made me a target for the happily-ever-after dreamers. I'm not looking for the whore of Babylon, but I cannot work with foolish idealism. Only the jaded need apply.
Our excursions into the Clay Pit have become interesting. As we have become familiar with the staff, we have started hanging around in the bar after dinner, even if we ate dinner somewhere else. Cats has been flirting with the bartenders, creating some interesting dynamics as they are forced to re-evaluate our relationship. One of the sisters who run the establishment is driving me crazy with her cuteness. She has well over-shadowed the wait staff, especially since my favorites have all gone missing lately. Pursuing several souls within a single environment is very tricky. Success with one can quickly spell defeat with another, so every step must be carefully considered. Or not.
I have come to realize that with the proper self-image and confidence, I will be entering the society of Texan elite. There isn't a single IP attorney in the state who can match my credentials and experience. I can help anyone I associate myself with and I can just as easily cause trouble for any competitor. I can create and I can destroy, all behind wizard curtains. But I must steel myself before I enter this fray. If I make myself a king, I must be prepared to defend my throne. My strength will be tested at every turn.
another day, another centime
M
The pizza girl told me that I was weird.
I thought we were already in agreement on that point. Maybe she didn't get the memo.
She augmented her description with the counter-stroke that it was of the good kind. I'm ready to accept that I am weird in a good way. I'm certainly not sure what it means, but it feels right.
Looking at my resume and looking at them people I will be negotiating with, I have realized that I must tailor my character to the role.
I am going to adopt a Bruce Wayne sort of style. Mysteriously powerful. Sharp-dressed man.
Every girl is crazy, no?
I told her that she was gorgeous. I've been telling women that lately. I enjoy using my power to make random women giddy.
Realizing that I cause panic, I have determined on a strategy of hanging around to generate familiarity and expression to cast realistic colors to their paranoid fantasies. People have to get used to me. That's just the kind of guy I am.
Since I'm a sweetheart, I don't have much trouble charming anyone.
Patience becomes the key to everything.
I won't live in the north no more because people wear too many clothes in the north, way too much of the time. I'm a major supporter of bare flesh. shake it shake it shake it baby
Bruce Wayne - cooler than any of the representations, by far. This is the Bruce in my head, the one that has a much cooler name than Bruce - I mean, come on, David is definitely more in line with my vision.
I work with mental models. I create the model and then I form the reality accordingly.
Sometimes, I amaze myself.
Enjoy,
M
Watching the children start down the road to Montana filled me with peace. To let them go far away without anymore than the basic concerns is such a feeling of relief. Being so far away, there is very little I can do for them, so as much as a father ever does, I can relax.
My recent exposure to the Jungian personality wheel has been a revelation. I have read these thoughts dozens of times before, but right here, right now, suddenly, they help me understand the issues that have plagued me. When I read of my weaknesses, I know they are my weaknesses. They are the weaknesses I have fought without success for more than four decades. Accepting my weaknesses as such allows me to find ways to circumvent, to adjust, to compensate. Taking advantage of my strengths.
Realizing, yet again, that other people are significantly different than I am in fundamental ways, so any assumptions I make about them will have to be adjusted to compensate for who they are. My hairdude needs to be surrounded by people and likes to touch hair. I'd go completely batty. No wonder he acts strangely.
And with the weekend, a need to let loose. Where's the orgy?
M
My elder son attempted to press me to take him to the store. I had agreed, but was deliberately unclear about the timing. He began asking on a periodic basis, the period growing shorter with each iteration.
"You should realize," I told him finally, "that my response to pushing is duck and cover."
"Hmm?" The kids are bright but I can obfuscate with the best of them.
"When I am pushed, I avoid doing the thing I am pushed to do. You can blame it on a first grade girl named Kathy. I had a crush on Laura but she had a crush on Bill so I was partnered with Kathy against my will. She wore saddle shoes and tried to drag me around the playground by the hand. I put a stop to that."
No one dares pull me by the hand. I don't like it one little bit. Holding hands with me can be a very iffy proposition. It is important to know when to let go.
"So if you want me to do something, I would suggest a different strategy. You don't want to push me."
I soon wandered off. I am told my boy observed, "You know, sometimes I think Dad is weird."
I think we found something we can all agree on.
M
I deliberately and with reasonable forethought chose Texas as my home. There are all kinds of idiots and I like the plain idiots better than the rest of the idiots. ;) I am always on the look-out for a better place to live, but have only seen places I would like to see. New Orleans has a magnetic attraction for me, but I'm not living in the bayou. I don't cotton much to mosquitos.
Wizardry is best demonstrated during the personal interviews. Knowing which skills to keep secret is essential. These are not the droids you are looking for.
I think working for other people sucks, but as long as they have the money, I'm stuck with that paradigm. I like being a mad genius - someone should follow me around and write down everything I say and then turn it into money - my interest is not easily controlled, so I'm not easily bought and consequently less easy to sell.
The magic I sell is so elusive that no one can really evaluate my efforts - I'm the only one who knows what kind of job I have done. But milking a system lost all its excitement ages ago, and I would prefer to find a system that I can actually thrive in. I am doing some deep soul searching to see my way hence.
I have been shown a dozen opportunities in Texas. There are really only so many players who can afford me. I'm going to attempt to interview them all. Knowledge is power.
M
I graduated from the University of Kansas in 1984 with a bachelor's degree in Engineering Physics, specializing in control systems. The next year, I began working at the United States Patent and Trademark Office as an examiner for the security group. Along with a wide variety of classified arts, I worked in directional radio systems and video display systems. In 1990, I began examining cryptography, computer and network security, spread spectrum systems, hardware, software, integrated circuits. I became a primary examiner in 1993 and continued to work as an examiner until 1998.
I attended George Mason School of Law in Arlington, Virginia and graduated with a Juris Doctor in 1996. Over fifty percent of my classes were specifically related to intellectual property, taught exclusively by local practitioners. I was nominated to law review.
I worked briefly at Shanks & Herbert, an IP litigation boutique in Alexandria, Virginia. I assisted with biotech litigation, prepared and prosecuted patent applications for computer hardware and a variety of mechanical devices. I wrote invalidity and non-infringement opinions and appeal briefs.
In 1999, I moved to Dallas and began working as head of the patent prosecution group for Thompson & Knight, managing a team of twelve patent prosecutors working for over one hundred clients in basically every conceivable technical field, especially microelectronics, telecommunication components and systems and security. I prepared and prosecuted patents, including reissues, re-exams, interferences and appeals. I assisted in patent litigation, including writing a brief that resulted in disposal in favor of our client. I counseled clients on all aspects of intellectual property including national and international patent protection, trademark, copyrights and portfolio management. I negotiated and drafted intellectual property licenses. I have written invalidity, validity and non-infringement opinions and have been deposed on my opinions in multi-national legal actions. I have participated extensively in marketing and have help attract many clients.
In 2002, I became a partner at Howison & Arnott, an intellectual property boutique in Dallas. I prepared and prosecuted microelectronic, telecommunication, medical, security in addition to a wide variety of disparate technologies. I negotiated and prepared intellectual property licenses. I counseled clients on all aspects of intellectual property and portfolio management.
I am a member of the Texas Bar, the Virginia Bar and the USPTO bar.
My in-depth knowledge of the people and processes of the patent office, in addition to a twenty year focus on claim construction and negotiation, gives me an incredibly unique perspective on patent prosecution. I can do things that no one else can do.
I think that's a $300,000 resume if I ever saw one. Not to mention that I'm a very nice guy. That should be worth another $25,000 or so. What's the current market on nice?
M
The Universe pressed a book into my path. I was looking at books on interviewing among the used books. Even without a price difference, I prefer used books. The title was "Be What You Are" or something like that. I opened it up to find an old friend.
During my many years in the government, I managed to read nearly all of Carl Gustav Jung's writings. The Mysterium Conjunctionus disturbed me in ways I can't explain, and I've never been able to finish that volume despite a dozen tries, but I soared through the rest. Jung established the personality types measured by the Briggs-Meyer. The book said, get a job that suits you.
I'm an INFP, with a very balanced F-T. This is a very unusual personality type for a man.
Many people will tell you that they don't care what other people think. I honestly don't. INP adds up to a severe detachment from reality, living almost entirely within my own head. My motivations - aside from a need to feed - are self-created and sustained. I don't do things because I should or have to or must. I only do things because I want to do them. Only life-threatening fears can shake me from my self-involved desires.
I have long recognized the problems I face in developing a career. Despite my incredible experience, training and insights, I do not handle the demands of working well. I have spent years trying to effect changes, to no avail. As the Universe suggests, rather than try to change who I am, I should try to take advantage of who I am. Know thyself.
I am incapable of working productively in a structured environment. My interest in a project must be sustainable. I am intolerant of stupidity and tradition. I am unorganized and disdainful of details.
Not exactly a great formula for being a lawyer. Fortunately, I have strengths that can counter my weaknesses. I am perceptive, insightful, creative, empathetic and analytical. I can comprehend patterns in the most subtle mediums. My curiousity can drive me relentlessly for decades in pursuit of answers. My adaptability is unmatched. I work well alone.
I don't work well with others because they invariably struggle to keep up with me. I generate models within my head and then transform them. It is difficult to share these mental images, much less share the transformations. People who don't understand my madness get left by the wayside. I have no use for people who can't even imagine.
So how do I turn this bit of knowledge into a better job. I'll have to think on that. Ponder, a bit. Create a mental model and begin doing the transformations. Voila.
M
I have fallen in love with my own guitar playing. Like ringing a bell. I am doing hours and hours, just delighted with every moment. Forty years of guitar has finally paid off. Yipee.
I asked Cynthia if I could see her. She told me no. She desperately wished the answer was yes. I am patient. Things always change.
She asked me "what do you mean?" I didn't know. If the answer was yes, I would work on what I meant. No meant that it didn't matter what I meant. It was a no that meant less than no. I stil don't know what I meant.
She is sweetly lovely. I'm sure that had something to do with what I meant.
"Oh, well," she said as I headed for the door. "Maybe I'll get divorced."
"It happens to the best of us."
I'm flattered. Not everyone can inspire infidelity. For what that's worth.
"Did you ever cheat on your wife?" The question made perfect sense in context. We were discussing my divorce.
I hesitated. How do I ever begin to explain? "We went way beyond that."
"Like you were just living together and . . . ?"
"No, we were still a couple . . . we just . . . " These are not easy things to explain.
"You liked to party."
"Exactly." My sister-in-law always says exactly. I doubt that I did.
Tonight I dropped by for another pizza. Her sister was there. "Tell Cynthia that I said hi,"
The girls at the bookstore suggested that I looked like Bob Dylan. I have never heard that one before. I guess it is a good thing. They didn't say that I sing like Bob. I might take offense, although they were awfully cute. I am forgiving of cute.
The kids were gone. The kids came back.
Enjoy,
M
A year ago, I might have been frantic about a snake bite. Having since done my time watching endless tales of viper venom, I took the news calmly. I understood the dangers and the treatment. I knew the limits of the trauma. Tess continues to suffer the pains and nausea of her poisoned step, but so go the lessons of life. We will all tread a little more carefully. We will not panic when it happens again. We know what to expect.
I am told that during the course of the evening, Tess told a concerned friend repeatedly that they would not be bitten by a snake. As we know, the Universe takes great joy in making such comments ironic.
I had lunch at Taco Bueno the other day, stopping by the mall for a social stroll and a bite. Fernanda, the lovely and pregnant manager, took my order with a smile that belied years and years of coldness. Never once has she acknowledged my admiring looks. Did she know of my on-line compliments? The change in her demeanor gave me suspicions. If she is reading this, or hearing of my words, I proclaim again. What a lovely girl. Even more lovely in pregnancy. So lovely.
I called Cynthia the other evening while she worked and told her that she was pretty. I don't know why I felt the urge, and I certainly don't know if it was a good idea. I have learned that I cannot escape causing twinges of fear in women - I am intimidating in ways I don't even see - but have realized that time evolves the fears into excitement and so long as I can avoid being a real source of fear, the wait will blossom. The trickiest part is dealing with a woman I cannot easily access - a four hour window every evening while she works provides more obstacles than opportunities. Every minute I spend talking to her counts.
I find a delightful challenge - or so it seems - in pursuing women who do not read or write as I read and write. A few romantic letters will do the trick with a literary woman, but a completely different bag of tricks is required when everything is aural. Perhaps I should spend more time meeting women in the bookstore rather than restaurants.
Once, I met a woman with an intellectual flair about her. Sonya eagerly embraced things cultural, effused with disdain for the common. Unfortunately, Sonya believed in appearances rather than substance - the kind who has read a book and subsequently proclaims her knowledge of all books. She could be a very fiesty person, enjoying the debate. One day, she invited me to cause some trouble, propose a topic that would be bound to start a fire. I gallantly obliged. Within three lines, her discussion turned into personal attacks that would not relent without a single intelligible word about the controversy. I had to shake my head and walk away.
I have encountered many pseudo-intellectuals in my time. They serve as a constant reminder. Never pretend to know things I don't know. People who do know will know that I don't know. Far better to learn than to pretend to know.
I have begun the process of marketing myself for employment. He promised me all the gold I could eat.
Oh, yeah. According to the jews, Jesus was the illegitimate son of a Roman soldier named Panther. This is the source of the Naughtius Maximus jokes. One of the best things about Monty Python is that even after thirty years of hysterics, I'm still unravelling their humor.
Now go away, or I will taunt you a second time.
M
I am haunted by visions
worlds yet to be
A forensic psychologist once remarked that I live by my own rules. Not as a matter of choice, but out of dissatisfaction with the observed rules. Which reminds me . . .
Grammar is an observation, not a rule
Expression always trumps grammar
Generalizations are not rules. This is the fact that seems to trouble humanity the most. You cannot limit the specific with generalities.
I make my own rules because every unique situation requires unique rational analysis. Since no one else seems to be interested in doing that analysis, I am forced to reject the rules of others. Yeah, that's the ticket.
As a lawyer and a scientist, I have an interesting perspective on rules. Most people who look to rules for guidance, don't understand the concepts underlying rules. They associate all rules with the rules of a game - a closed and artificial universe where rules are enforceable by a meta-analysis that takes place outside of the actual game. This meta-analysis is simply not possible when dealing with open human conduct.
rules-control-fear
For reasons that have not been revealed to me - presumably for reasons, because we ultimately fear the infinite chaos - I have developed in powerful ways. Perhaps the most powerful is a sense of vision - the adaptable ability to calculate and form new realities.
Part of me has always wanted to be a follower, but I have been disillusioned of that idea. I will never be much of a follower. Everyone else is mostly blind. I'd be daft to follow blind people.
For the curious, I believe that my penchant for food-service women is because I can deftly avoid almost all human interaction during the course of my days, but the one need I am unable to satisfy within my fortress of solitude is that damnable need to eat. Not just every day, but three frigging times a day. It makes me angry in ways. I hate wasting time eating.
Yet survival makes demands that are not easily pushed aside. I must go eat and here is where I meet the better part of my society. Not just once-in-a-while, but over and over. So these girls get to know me where no one else can.
Because of the skill I have acquired, I am in a position to squeeze profits from the system in many, many ways. Selecting the best use of my skill, to acquire the most wealth with the least amount of effort, is a constantly shifting target. Adaptability is one of my greatest gifts.
Never make decisions about the future. Select a path and make your choices when the time has come for decision. Making decisions about the future is nothing more than a way to avoid making decisions in the present.
Fuck the past. Fuck the future. Live now.
I went to Europe and drank excessively. I like Europe. It lives.
Tess is recovering from her encounter with the viper, a bit swollen and probably slowed down for a few weeks. It is a wonderful conversation starter - how are things going? Well, my daughter was bit by a copperhead Saturday night . . . an endless stream of talk is bound to follow.
Enjoy,
M
I was awakened by the ring of my phone - well, the first line to Fat Bottomed Girls - Girl, I'm going to take you home tonight - Girl, I'm going to take you home tonight - Girl, I'm going to take you home tonight - with a fuzz of fading dreams. The familiar voice of my eX accelerated my escape from the land of nod.
"Tess was bitten by a copperhead," she explained. "We're at the emergency room in McKinney. They gave her some morphine, but there's nothing else they can do but watch her."
I have seen my share of snake documentaries, so I knew the full routine. All said, copperheads aren't too terrible as poisonous snakes go, though I'm sure Tess has formed her own opinion of the noxious reptile. What kind of a party were the girls at, dancing with pit vipers?
"I love you, Daddy," the tormented and stoned darling muttered.
And so, the day's plan is radically changed. Officially, I take the kids this evening for a two-week stretch of dad-time. Greg caught a small perch before the storms began to rumble and we headed home.
Watching the days go by . . .
M
"Your pizza isn't done yet."
"That's cool." I replied.
"You're hoping to see my sister, aren't you?"
"I can't help it. She's so cute."
"Yes, she is," her sister said with a laugh.
I sat on the bench beneath the neon pizza sign, waiting for my foodstuff, wondering about the elusive pizza girl. It was a few minutes past five, the time she normally began her shift. Her sister cleaned, preparing to leave. The evening shift of drivers showed up one by one.
I listened to the bits of spainish I heard from the back, trying to pick out possible references to me. I heard none. I watched the men as they passed, as they did stuff behind the counters. No one paid me the slightest heed, no notice, no hostility.
I don't want to cause the girl any trouble. I don't want to cause me any trouble. Well, maybe a little, but only the good kind. You do it. You know you do it. I just did it and I'm ready to do it again.
On the positive side, her sister didn't tell me to go to hell - always a bad sign, I find. Her playful tease had an inviting quality, almost, sort-of.
How many days must I wait before I buy another pizza? How can I sneak in a visit to the Indian restaurant? What other food-service women will fall prey to my charms?
Same bat time - same bat channel
M
left a good job in the city
working for the man every night and day
but I never lost one minute of sleeping
worrying about the way things might have been
I took a gander at Bill's employment opportunities. I'm qualified for about 500 positions around the world. There are probably only about 200 people in the world competing for those jobs and most of them already have jobs. I suspect I can turn this to my advantage.
I'm going to put on my best sleazy dress and see who wants me most. Metaphorically.
Remind me to tell you about Halloween in Georgetown - let's see - 1988.
Having acquired the boys, I dropped by for a pizza and a little conversation. The results were positive and inconclusive. The pizza was good.
Patience is an essential element of interpersonal relationships. Patience is the path to enlightenment.
Except when it isn't.
Enjoy,
M
The rate of expansion of the Universe is accelerating. Time-space may be revolving. A fourth physical dimension is being explored.
Our minds may not be up to the task of understanding the Universe. We developed intelligence to catch pigs and fish. Understanding Existence may require more than a neural network.
Thou art god.
Cats had a little chat with the pizza girl last night, undertaking a bit of diplomatic recon to collect intelligence for me and dispel any unnecessary fears about competing relationships. The results were positive but inconclusive, partly because the sudden appearance of Cats threw Cynthia for a loop. The pizza was good.
I may drop by to converse with the pizza girl sister, who works the afternoons. More than anyone, she'll probably give me the straight dope.
Since I am told of a crazy mexican husband, I am stepping carefully. I don't mind a bit of excitement, but I am not ready to die at the hands of a jealous husband. Not quite yet, anyway.
We dropped by Sans for a few turns on the dance floor but dj brian really sucked - a few good songs rudely broken by bouts of angry man rap. Even at the blackest of parties, I've never seen a dance floor flooded by angry man rap. Sans is not a young spot, as most people take a little time to reach the decadent corruption that is our common denominator, so the hostility in some music is doubly inappropriate. Anger should play no more than a bit part in things romantic.
Cats took advantage of the dark club and shadow box to display naked charms in highly erotic ways. So sexy.
The eX called to exchange this Saturday for next, so the kids will be dropping by at four, enough time to have some fun and send them home. I'm not a proponent of divorce generally, but I must confess that being a part-time parent is much easier than being a full-time parent. I'm also a much better parent. We all need a little time for ourselves.
So what's next? Hmmm. We shall wait and see.
M
today
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