Boring Tranquility

Last Modified: December 09, 2018

Welcome to Boring Tranquility.

"Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable!"

my notes (i.e., my thoughts) - beware!

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The Life and Death of a Startup

Boring Tranquility

The net is vast and infinite

Where to begin? The story seems timeless at this point. Especially now when one begins to dust off the various text editors to prepare for a resume update. There’s a certain oddness when looking back on aged (ageless) PDFs - seeing where one has been and where one is attempting to go. There’s often that nagging thought that one’s own eyes are the only ones that will ever scan that employment history. That’s the nature of the “thing”. That “thing” being jobs, people, airwaves, the fed, Mexican nationals, et al.

We randomly come to certain points in the infinite free flow of events, those mysterious phenomena. What propels us forward? What yanks us back? What denotes success or failure? These questions are too large for this post. Much like the ethical questions surrounding Harvard’s endowment, and the coming migrant crisis at the Southern border of the United States. Again, that ever present free flow of events; that vast cascade of information.

Our paths still cross in these high pressure days, / A crowd pattern will emerge / Exchange phone numbers, wither away

Something is in the nadir of its existence. Following a fading light toward a dark and cold ledge. Waiting and hanging - all alone. These are the types of high pressure days that one longs for. So far away - ephemeral. Always reaching back for moments lost to eternity. Trying to feel things one can no longer feel. What is rebirth and renewal? Who are we, where are we going? Tony Soprano once said this. He’s gone now too.

We will begin again. The popular media of youth shapes and molds like a golem our minds. We strive to recreate what was once new, which in turn strove for that very same thing. It begins again. Over and over. It is a pretty sight. Why does one think of Final Fantasy VIII at a time like this? They all were friends of mine; teenagers struggling against an enormity that they could not fathom. 1999. 9/9/99 - do you remember that ad too? Who am I, where am I going?

I can hear you, the world hears you!

There is a William Basinski work called “The Disintegration Loops” - an amazing piece of American music. It ebbs and flows as if water lapping an abandoned shore. It is a chill seeking warmth. In its attempts it falls deeper into that abyss of darkness. Vast coldness is death - an unavoidable chariot. Music must always end.

As it is with music it is with an organized undertaking. The cacophony of a meeting disintegrates into a powerful silence. Cities rise and fall. Kingdoms expand then wane. Micro and macro - it does not matter. It always begins again.

for (i = 0; i >= 0; i++) {

There will be a stack overflow. Too much data to a buffer that cannot hold.

In the fast moving stream we glide. The greens and blues on either side blur as the blacktop stretches further toward the horizon line. Reaching the critical angel of attack is almost angelic. Storage overflows with its contents vomited into the ether - the vast free flow of time of space.

End of Summer

Boring Tranquility

The dog days of summer are over.

Marriage in 20 days.

Mexico City is sinking. There will be no water left soon.

Masters of Doom

Boring Tranquility

Wildly enjoyable read. Made me wish I was born to a different generation. Alas!

Summery: John Carmack and John Romero were two personalities that meshed well enough to produce a culturally significant video game. Things go well at first for their company (id Software), but clashes result when visions differ.

The book itself is well written — a true page turner. One isn’t overloaded with too much tech mumbo-jumbo (there’s a technical book written about the Wolfenstein 3D Engine if you’re into that sort of thing). The main players are vividly painted to reveal enough humanity to keep you — the reader! — going.

Highly recommended for first time readers of anything video game related.


Boring Tranquility

I recently completed two books on my Summer Reading List 2018. I hope to share some thoughts in the coming days. A friend of mine - or maybe just someone I know via the internet nowadays - shared Derek Sivers’ book notes with me. I hope to emulate what Derek has done and continues to do.

Lead, Kindly Light

Boring Tranquility

by John Henry Newman

Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou
Shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path; but now
Lead Thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years!

So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on.
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone,
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!

Meantime, along the narrow rugged path,
Thyself hast trod,
Lead, Saviour, lead me home in childlike faith,
Home to my God.
To rest forever after earthly strife
In the calm light of everlasting life.

Time moves in one direction, memory in another

Boring Tranquility

My dad told me about this poem when we were driving some place in some state at some time. I remember him vaguely describing the portion of the poem wherein Morrison writes about horses being thrown overboard. It was then that I learned the word jettison and the conversation moved elsewhere. My dad has always had a great memory for snippets of art he enjoys. It is something that he and I share.

Horse Latitudes by Jim Morrison

The barn is burning
The race-track is over
Farmers run out w/
buckets of water
The horse flesh is burning
They’re kicking the stalls
(panic in a horse’s eye
That can spread & fill
an entire sky.)

The clouds flow by
& tell a story

about the lightning bolt & the mast
on the steeple

Some people have a hard time
describing sailors to the

The decks are starving
Time to throw the cargo over

Now down & the high-sailing
fluttering of smiles on the air
w/its cool night time disturbance

Tropic corridor
Tropic Treasure

What got us this far to this
mild equator

Now we need something
& someone new
when all else fails
we can whip the horse’s eyes
& make them cry
& sleep

France is 1st, Nogales round-up
Cross over the border–
land of eternal adolescence
quality of despair unmatched
anywhere on the perimeter
Message from the outskirts
calling us home
This is the private space of a
new order. We need saviors
To help us survive the journey.
Now who will come
Now hear this
We have started the crossing
Who knows? it may end badly

The actors are assembled;
immediately they become
I, for one, am in ecstasy
Can I convince you to smile?

No wise men now.
Each on his own
grab your daughter & run

“Oh God, she cried
I never knew what
it meant to be real
I thought all this was a joke,
I never let the horror, or
the sweetness & the dignity
penetrate my brain”

“Let me up to see
the window. Dark Riders
pass in the sunset
coming home from
raiding parties.
The taverns will be
full of laughter, wine,
& later dancing, later
dangerous knife throws.

Antonio will be there
& that whore, Blue Lady
playing cards w/silver
decks & smiling at the night,
& full glasses held aloft
& spilled to the moon.
I’m sad, so full of sadness”

She’s selling news in the market
Time in the hall
The girls of the factory
Rolling cigars
They haven’t invented musak yet
So I read to them
a horror story from the Gothic age
a gruesome romance
From the LA

I have a vision of America
Seen from the air
28,000 ft. & going fast

A one-armed man in a Texas
parking labyrinth
A burnt tree like a giant primeval bird
in an empty lot in Fresno
Miles & miles of hotel corridors
& elevators, filled w/ citizens

Motel Money Murder Madness
Change the mood from glad to sadness

play the ghost song baby

a young woman, bound silently, on
a hostpital table, obviously pregnant,
is gutted & rifled of her empire

objects of oblivion

Drugs sex drunkenness battle
return to the water-world
Mother of man
Monstrous sleep-waking gentle swarming
atomic world
Anomic in social life

how can we hate or love or judge
in the sea-swarm world of atoms
All one, one All
How can we play or not play
How can we put one foot before us
or revolutionize or write

Does the house burn? So be it.
The World, a film which men devise.
Smoke drifts thru these chambers
Murders occur in a bedroom.
Mummers chant, birds hush & coo.
Will this do?
Take Two.

First Commit

Boring Tranquility

Commit early, commit often. Think this over but never soften / Come spring / Come a coffin / Commit early, commit often.