The Empirical Manifesto

I'm down to one monitor in place of my usual four because I left my desk in Texas, so that's been challenging. I won't get to decompress after this frantically pressuring week (both the move and the load at work this particular week - more resignations and half-staff due to an annual project) because I need to use the weekend to retrieve the few remaining items from the Anna House - then start all over for another hectic work week without a break. And while I'm prone to "overworking" when I WFH (Work From Home), I need to try to learn and temper that with family now that I'm 100% remote.

But not this week.

And probably not next week.

My son's computer wouldn't boot when we arrived so he's using one of the guest computers, I bought Dungeon Siege III from Game Stop down the street because our computers met the "minimum requirement" to play, but the 4GB needed for installation was not accurate. It needs a whopping 39GB!!! Space my son's 72GB drive does not have. Also included in this bastardization is the REQUIREMENT to install 3rd-party "Steam" assware.



In replacing my primary Windows platform with one with 8GB DDR3 and a faster system bus (everything else is identical) I've used this opportunity to update my existing box for flowdown to my Clone (who could really use the quad-cores) except that Windows cannot apply the updates, and the error codes are seemingly meaningless. Microsoft has two tools to assist with this, one is a Windows "revalidation" tool, and the other a Windows Update "Hotfix" both of which failed to install initially, and once I was able to overcome whatever HooDoo was preventing that, once they did install effected no visible change - the updates still failed to installed with no rhyme or reason why. Its the most concentrated cesspool of reasonless idiocy I've encountered in a while, causing me no end of stress.




Add to that the miserable bandwidth I was experiencing with my brand-spanking new 55Mbps/5.5Mbps cable company appropriately named, "Cox." That turned out to be a wireless lan driver issue with Ubuntu and was solved by running a 100-foot cable up the stairs to my temporary office until I can relocated adjacent my rack in the basement. An easy fix to be sure, but troubleshooting the problem amidst everything else just added to the pile.

I try not to yell at the kids who vacillate between running through the house like bobcats on booze and being frustratingly bored out of their skull, which is why I was so eager to get their computers set up. The DirecTV installation alleviated some of that, but we were only able to unpack one of their receiver units, the other still nestled somewhere in an unmarked box in a cavernous garage filled with boxes upon boxes.



And Brasero, the Gnome disc-burner that I've never gotten to reliably burn anything, ever, amongst a myriad of different hardware platforms, linux distros, and burners failed once again to save the day when Nero on a Win7 Vbox instance refused to allow me to use the identified host drive as a valid volume. Sadly, I think it will be some time before all these issues are corrected and I'm back to some semblance of a steady state.

There are a thousand more things needling at my psyche right now, and I'm trying and failing to look like I still have my cool. But work takes precedence, and I have that in spades. When I am able to step back from the sticky pit which is my life right now, I see happy children, and productive, forward-thinking wife and clone. This makes me happy, and I remember my troubles are all temporary - that I'm the one who has a problem with letting everything get to me. I haven't exactly been grace under pressure - an aberration for me; So I'm working on that. Learning to step back and enjoy all the wonderful, wonderful things which I have surrounding me.

And once I've mastered that, maybe the homesickness will abate.

Moving a family involves a cast of thousands. catttitude and I (mostly catttitude) put a lot of prep-work into our moving to make it as smooth as possible, because let's face it - it's not. Smooth that is. In fact it sucks. But every time I've moved since leaving the military (they took care of everything) I have enjoyed help. Hell, in moving from drax0r's house in Anna to my own, an entire moving-party showed up to assist. Touching, really.

And when we were loading up to move to STL my wife and I worked a 12-hour day standing alongside that very truck in my avatar. I had five people assist (four if you include my father's "supervision" assisting): My mother (who tackled the child angle), drax0r (who showed up when we were finished), Big Dave, (who can curl small cars like barbells), and celtmanx (who did more visiting than *actual* moving). Nonetheless, when I discovered that he was moving from his 4000-sq/ft house in Fort Worth, 30-minutes Southwest to a 100-year-old Victorian off the town square in Granbury without engaging my assistance, I volunteered.

And this is where my title fits in. First, he plied me with Monster drinks in the garage fridge. Secondly, he presented me with a box of Macanudo tubos - ! - Then he worked me like a beast of burden.

I feel dirty.


My wife deserves half that box of cigars for watching the kids alone for 12 hours!


Eight hours later our 26' U-Haul was loaded and we were in Granbury where he hired a 20-year old college student to unload the truck so I could make my way back home. With it being a holiday and every State, City, Town & Municipality cop on the road trapping speeders, I had to restrain myself from driving 100+ mph across Interstate 20, my usual modus operandi. This decision was just one in a confluence of events which lead me to overwhelming enjoy an unexpected surprise: Redwoods.

Seeing the cover didn't bring back any memories of the entry whatsoever (though I did go back and read it as soon as I got home), and the minimalistic title gave me no clues. A quick check of the track listing wasn't conclusive, as I couldn't tie anything together on my own. Of the 21 tracks I wasn't familiar with fifteen of them. Because there were so many cops out, I simply put my cruise on the speed limit - something I almost never do. And because I wasn't barrel-assing across the Interstate at a hundred miles an hour dodging traffic, I was more relaxed. Finally, because I had been worked like a beast of burden I was exhausted. Everything formed the perfect shell in which to enjoy this very discrete album.

I popped in the disc and was immediately rewarded. swashbuckler332 has a tendency to "set the tone" of the album with the first track. It was a beautiful track. I checked the liner notes. "Wendy Carlos." Huh. I know her from her classical Moog album (the first..classical album to ever go platinum? Anyone? Is that right?) and her later work with Telarc. This sounded very un-Moog like. It was light and angelic. I was smiling. I looked down and was on Track 3. "GODDAMNIT! HE DID IT TO ME AGAIN!" I backed up three tracks and started over. It was even better the second time. I hear something I haven't heard in a very long time - Pleasentville. I've wanted that album since the movie came out - the first thing I ever saw Tobey Maguire in, and the best role he's ever played. He embodied his character and the score embodied him. I close my eyes and get goosebumps. The tree fucking ignites! "HOLY SHIT I'M DRIVING A CAR WHY ARE MY EYES CLOSED!" I don't know why I don't own this movie on DVD. I'm angry about that. I'm also angry I missed this song the first time around - of course...I'm on track four! What happened to Tracks 2 & 3? Mostly, I blame the album on the clarinet. It seems to me that some of the tracks end and begin with the *same* clarinet playing the *same* note. "Incomprehensible!"

Unlike Excelsior! where each theme was selected for its individual properties and woven into a tapestry of similarly oriented themes for an overall purpose, Redwoods appears to try to accomplish perhaps a less difficult task, and in doing so, allows for greater continuity. I'll put it this way: Even of the albums I have, the tracks are made better on this disc than they are in their original setting, because they all compliment each other.

I may have to shelve Excelsior! for awhile, because I've found a new favorite.

Thanks Swash. You're full of surprises.

I'm a sedentary man. I don't play sports, I don't run for fun; my hobbies require no physical exertion. I sit in my car I sit at work and I sit at home. I do a lot of sitting. And my time off this past holiday season was a wonderful, much needed rest. I got to shift my mind into neutral and I did more than sit. I lounged. I was aggressively idle. I was indolent for an entire week - not even bothering to dress at times. This Utopian bliss was interrupted by a short, three-day work week which required that I wear pants. I dislike wearing pants. I barely survived those three days, and spent the following weekend gearing up for what I knew was going to be the first day of the rest of my life. That is to say, my first full week of the new year, and a dead-ringer for the following 12-months. What I wasn't expecting was what came with it - a renewed spirit.

I decided to eat raw this week because of it - party as penance for my opulent lifestyle. Cleanse my body as well as my mind from my slothfulness of weeks passed. I've been running between 80-90% raw this week. I haven't been freaking out over the bits of chicken, hard-boiled egg or dressing on my Cobb salads, nor have I given up coffee in the mornings. Outside of that, I'm all raw. Its delicious. I've always enjoyed primarily non-processed foods, but sometimes just a little bit can drop you down a spiraling path of overindulgence in fast food. Its easy because its cheap.

At work we have a cafeteria. I can get a bacon double cheeseburger with two pounds of sliced tomato, lettuce, pickles and onion on it, and fries for $3.99. The modest salad I put together weighed in at over six dollars. Tomorrow, I'm going to get a burger. Hold the meat, hold the bun, hold the bacon, hold the cheese.

I've also had an unusual attraction to mild exercise this week. Unusual because it is neither in my nature, nor my disposition. I've been walking morning, noon, and night. Coupled with the raw diet this week, I may actually be pulling my body out of some of its self-destructive tendencies this past month. I'll likely add whole grains to my diet next week, and maybe start drinking wine again.



And now to apologize for my previous post.

I'm the funniest guy I know. So when I found a picture of an X-Wing Fighter on the deck of a World War II aircraft carrier, I thought long and hard as to how best present it to you, my faithful readers. After about a week, I decided to research the USS Long Island and roll the picture into other pictures of that era, as a gag. Luckily for me I found *actual* pictures of the carrier and then started researching both the ship and its class, and the role they played in WWII, to present it documentary-style.

My sin, was taking the following things for granted, by assuming every person on this planet knew:

• The X-Wing Fighter is not a real military aircraft.


• Even if it were, it would not have been in the skies over WWII battlefields.


• There is a movie named, Star Wars.

I thought it was funny.