The service drone approaches as I ponder the meaning of that which
represents my daily toil- understanding the velocity at which it flies
from my hands challenges my most interpolative processes. The band wails
blues/rock as I analyze the obfuscations of normality presented
by this scenario, such obfuscations obviously designed to
prevent or discourage lucid analysis. Liquid flows from spouts
too small to deliver, in manner of brisance, a real mans' drink,
yet in time the glass fills; the wine spills, across the
crowded room. Batman theme is background: "wail like the devil!"
foreground. It is essentially binary (parity errors nonwithstanding).
I picture a 1947 Flexible Coach painted hot red
with two flourescent traffic cones affixed radially atop the front:
"the devil!--hell on wheels!" "put strobes inside the cones!"
still the band wails on in its bluesy way, E-lectronic piano
plinking out the spaces between the dual sax and vocal overlay.
The music says:'Buy more liquor..Order another beer..'
Tomorow will never come.." yet in two years, the hidden comet
will strike the earth, so they fear. but wait! there's more! Live now
with the correct parameters, for "the world ends tomorrow and you may die!"
Why are my cigarettes stuck to the table?
And the converts! Conversion can be done efficiently, provided one
accounts for all of the energy input and seeks use of that in the output,
either by feedthrough, or by impressing the excess back towards the source.
But enough digression.. back to the point of experience that is going on
here and now. They discuss: "let 'em walk away with it and talk me
into the ground.." The inner hulls. schemes in schemes..
sheesh! these guys have no idea what is really going on. They are lost.
As prompted or as I butt in, I explain the ramifications of 64-bit
processes as compared to 8, 16, or 32 bit: business card, desk,
city block, world. enough said. Implications sink in...
DEC rules everything, right at
the crux of the buiscuit; the band again, as bands do, wails on,
obliterating my shouted-touted comm channel to the clever-but-misdirected.
I resume compilation of experienced realities through time on a monday night;
bombastic preaching & HOOLiganism on the highest order! Hypothetical image:
Some fool requests a duel? "Shotguns across a card table!"