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hax0ring

Started: 2004-04-15 20:27:34

Submitted: 2004-04-15 20:53:41

Visibility: World-readable

After grabbing a geocache, I'm now sitting at Caffe Solé in south Boulder typing on Elssbett (hoping my nat connection doesn't time out on me because I'm not generating any http traffic) and trying to get inspiration to type something intelligent.

Last week I didn't see Gem very much; she got conscripted to play keyboard for a passion play put on by Denver First church a week before it occurred. This was a serious performance at a theater at a defunct college campus in Denver. (I tried to figure out what I might do with a defunct college campus. I do have one partial screenplay, The Adventures of the Commune, set on a college campus, except that it's supposed to be amerime. (That's my new word intended to mean "American anime".)) Gem showed up for practice Sunday through Wednesday nights last week, then performed Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. It was pretty intense; I didn't see her very much during the week, since she woke up after I left for work, left for practice before I got home, and got home no more than half an hour before I went to bed.

During that time, I spent most of my life putting my BLUG presentation together, watching some media, and trying to recover from my sleep deprivation. Thursday night I headed to BLUG and learned the demo speaker had bailed, leaving only me to talk about video editing on Linux. I stumbled a bit but generally did well, and got plenty of audience participation to go along with it. I showed a brief clip from The Worst Sci-Fi Prequel Ever!, and Willy showed up for most of the talk. It was most entertaining.

Having rejected DOS, we're paranoid about anything that isn't
"user-friendly," that requires some adjustment on our part and a
commitment to meet the technology halfway. It's as if Henry Ford rigged
a bridle and set of leather reins to his Model T instead of a steering
wheel and clutch, and to this day we were still driving our cars the way
a 19th century groomsman would handle a horse and buggy.
- Jonathon Keats, "'You Send Me' by Patricia T. O'Conner & Stewart
Kellerman", Salon.com