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adventures of programmer with screwdriver
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Time:10:50 am
Sometimes my dreams have an unusually cohesive plot. This time the holes in the dream-logic seemed to fit into an almost cinematic ambiguity. Was I abducted by the devil to work in Hell's brothel, or did I just die of a monoxide leak in that cheap motel room and go to Hell because (as I discovered at the end of the dream) I was a neo-Nazi? In either case, I spent all that time in Hell supposedly going to be a prostitute but in the meantime cleaning out the public baths and bathrooms. Whose idea was it to make urinals out of pumice and put them on that narrow ledge... oh right, it was Hell.

She (the dream had no names, so I'll call her S) escaped early in the dream using a spell, and the dream-viewpoint followed her long enough to show she'd made it and left some kind of tracking thing on the cat (of course the barracks of Hell's brothel's cleaning staff keeps a black cat as a pet). Maybe she would come back for me. My own escape failed. Later the woman from the other side of the house told me that S had been recaptured and was being tortured, but the woman seemed to be screwing with me (metaphorically, in addition to pretending to be a client) in return for some special treatment from the Devil. I never found out what happened to S, but when I returned to earth, only S's socks reappeared in the boarded-up motel room, which made sense to dream-me.

The room I returned to, next door to S's, was still in use but the woman occupying it seemed remarkably ready to believe my story after I showed her my cell phone's calendar indicating it had had no cell signal for six months. No cell service = Hell, obvs.

I got to watch the devil at work sometimes as I was carrying a bucket through Hell, although he was never quite in-frame as it were. He seemed to especially like tempting people who were waiting at a remote bus stop for a bus that wasn't showing up on time. I think those people were already sinners somehow and the Devil was just messing with them because he could, but possibly the Devil wanted to see how many people would sell their soul in return for the bus arriving on a cold winter road.

It was an emotionally taxing dream despite the usual bizarre dream-details. My coworker's torment seemed to include that they listened to music while scrubbing baths but their earbuds were always tangled. And I had enough spare time, apparently, to build a chiller out of some tubing and an ice chest for a kind of three-person beer-based water-pik ... why? Did I get part of some fraternity dentist's nightmare?

I still wish I knew what happened to S.
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Subject:theater
Time:10:27 pm
It's too late to catch Blackmail but there are eight other early Hitchcock films showing this weekend at my local theater. I may drag my lazy butt down the street to watch one. Or I may not.

On a different end of the performance art continuum, in a week or two one could watch Manos: Hands of Felt.
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Subject:Future Watch Cyberpunk Update #71 Update
Time:11:29 am
Contact lenses with a zoom mode. Sorta. (I can't read the paper but it sounds like they haven't worked out such minor details as aligning the annular shutter pattern to the wearer's gaze, being able to blink over a 1mm-thick angular object, etc.)

Not as cyberpunk as this but still.
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Time:10:22 am
Wow, maybe instead of going to Machu Picchu, my idle-fantasy vacation is going to Nan Madol.
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Time:10:22 pm
boaty boat boat
wind windy wind
saily saily


It was almost too windy to sail this evening— the livery guy and I stared beady-eyed at the lake for a while, and waited for it to get windier or less windy, but eventually we put a reef in the sail and I went out. Actually was not hard at all, even though I haven't sailed in actual wind in ages and ages; it didn't gust or shift or puff much at all. So, there was lots of wind, but not surprising wind. Was a good sail.
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Subject:Elevated bikeways
Time:01:20 am
Elevated bikeways are an oddly persistent idea. Sofia. Toronto. Eindhoven. Los Angeles in 1897.
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Subject:small potatoes
Time:04:39 pm
Behold. We have implemented agriculture.

Bowl of potatoes

Last year sometime (or was it year before last?) we had some potatoes which had gone mushy and sprouty in the fridge. I planted them in the back of the yard (the spot had good soil but not much sunlight), and today we dug around looking for potatettes. Lo! Roughly 300 grams of starchy starch! Surprisingly gratifying, despite not being very much food.

Also some broccoli which Kylee had planted with perhaps more consideration and skill than my "bury it somewhere convenient and dig it up sometime" potato farming technique.
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Subject:Still not dead
Time:11:47 pm
despite another year of aging. Still not sure what I'm doing here, but who is?
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Subject:Back in Internet-having land after our journey
Time:09:03 pm
Back in Internet-having land after our journey through the mountainous, monkey-filled wastes of central Japan (which reminded me of home, rather: Nagano 'support area grows lots of apples.) Only slightly disappointed to discover that nothing much happened in the meantime.
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Subject:Your friend the hagfish
Time:08:08 pm
Their slime doesn't just make for tasty(?) scones, it can also be spun into thread.
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adventures of programmer with screwdriver
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