marking time: summer 2019

The bugs. My room is being infested by these teeny-tiny bugs that are harmless enough in themselves, but they appear and swarm and move psychotically hither-thither and higgledy-piggledy really, really fast on the floor and various surface areas, and it's all I can do to smush them under a fingertip. They're really no more than specks of life with the residue of their deaths not much worth even a swipe of a tissue. *sigh* Not killing other living beings is ideal under mindfulness practice, and here I am massacring what I hope is an entire population, genocide I hope. Not the best item to have on one's karmic resumé, but let's keep things in perspective. In fewer numbers I'd leave them alone. They'll show up in a particular area and I can easily kill a dozen or more in a go. They're easy to spot despite their size (and my degraded eyesight) and easy to kill with a jabbing fingertip. They're fast but they're too tiny to be tactical (even if they make it to cover, they'll just run out into the open in a few seconds), and being fast just means it's amazing they covered those centimeters so quickly. They're fast enough that sometimes it takes a few jabs to get them, but they're going nowhere fast and still basically sitting ducks. I just had an image of ducks sitting in meditation.

The heat. Not only is this a hell-hot summer, but very possibly the hottest, helliest hell-hot summer since I coined "hell-hot summer" as distinct from regular merely blazing hot Taipei summers. I swear I recently experienced the absolute hottest day in my time here in Taipei. I'm putting strict limits on how far away I'll go on bike lest I risk a heat-related crisis. My instinct for self-preservation (or not feeling like crap, rather) is strong enough to recognize when I need to get into an air-conditioned space now, but sometimes just getting around on bike will be such that I'm feeling the effects long after getting into air-conditioning and hydrating.

"Rogue One: A Star Wars Story". HBO finally got this years after release, and I didn't expect anything of it. I've never been huge on the Star Wars thing after the original first two movies "Star Wars" (none of that "episode IV" or "New Hope" bullshit) and "The Empire Strikes Back", which were so good that even people over age 16 don't seem to realize how bad "Return of the Jedi", rounding out the original trilogy, is. Curiosity had me peeking at the three prequels: the first was terrible, annoying and boring (not  necessarily in that order), the second was worse and unwatchable, the third was also unwatchable but at least hilarious in the bits that I did see (you couldn't re-make it as a comedy and have it be funnier (sadly)). "The Force Awakens" I initially held in favor, but after re-watching ultimately gave it a thumbs down. Not terrible, watchable, just not very good.

"Rogue One: A Star Wars Story": excellent! I have nothing to say about it that might be at all relevant, except that I was impressed and amazed at how fresh it was and how cleverly it wove in elements of the chronologically subsequent "Star Wars" that are recognizable without being pandering or corny. Aside from C-3PO and R2-D2, who having just a single gratuitous shot at the rebel base qualifies as pandering and corny. If they included them at all, they should have gone at least a little more into how they ended up in the battle and on Leia's blockade runner in "Star Wars", otherwise just leave them out. For that matter, why Leia was sent into a battle that looked like a suicide mission should've been addressed more than it was, but that might risk requiring more screen time for a character being rendered youthful by CGI (RIP Carrie Fisher).

I mistakenly thought the entire movie was based on a single line in "Star Wars", something on the lines of a rebel general grimly saying during the briefing before the attack on the Death Star, "Many people died to get us this information", but a web search indicates that line is actually from "Return of the Jedi" (It was apparently a Manny "Both Hands" (intergalactic gangster?) who died to get the information on the Death Star, mk. II (because once your first Death Star is destroyed, of course, the logical, albeit unoriginal, course of action is to build another)). But it would've been incredible if that line was in "Star Wars" because it's such a cliché, throwaway line. "Rogue One" would've affirmed it was not a throwaway line at all, but hard-hitting testament and recognition to the sacrifice and courage of those characters. People re-watching "Star Wars" later would get to that line and know he's referring to the events of "Rogue One" and start bawling. Or not. In "Return of the Jedi" it's just a cliché, throwaway line. 

There's no one in my life. That's no revelation, but in practical terms that means there was no one in my life to meet up with recently to ask, "oh my god, what's wrong with your leg?" And there was no one to whom I could answer, "I have no idea". One morning I awoke with a considerable pain in my right ankle with no apparent cause that had me limping for two days that had strangers looking at me sympathetically. I didn't care. If there was a cause, maybe I could have taken the sympathy (like when I pulled a muscle going to the airport once and was limping bad enough that an airport worker directed me to an expedited line), but since I couldn't identify a reason for it, I felt the pain didn't deserve any special attention and pretty much ignored it aside from the limp and continued to take stairs instead of elevators whenever I usually would. 

It's totally gone now. It's not like it was injured and healed. It just showed up one day painful enough to be a raison d'limp, and then went away just as suddenly without cause or reason. At no time was I concerned about it aside from its mystery. The incident did make me pay attention to my feet, though, especially since one of those days it hurt, my sneakers felt extra snug indicating my feet were probably swollen for some reason. And indeed, they look swollen even now. They used to have definition like a foot should have but now they look like Taco Bell grilled stuft burritos. mmm, taco bell.

random post: coffee

I'm no longer addicted to caffeine and don't really need it, but I bought a bag of beans yesterday and I think I may have found my proper way to pour a cup of coffee using a filter cone.

I've been experimenting for years trying to come up with a consistently good (to me, that's why I say my proper way) cup of coffee. I've even searched on the web to see how other people do it and either it's super-anal techniques that no normal person in their right mind would pay attention to, or nimrods who post the most obvious, derp-city way to use a filter cone that even a monkey could figure out.

Experiment factors include grind (how long to grind), water temp (how long to let it cool), and how to pour. There's a lot to personal taste, so how long to grind and water temp is an individual preference. I grind for 10-15 seconds, and let water cool for a minute.

The pour, I think, is the key and that's with what I've been experimenting. My way is don't saturate the grind right away. I do a quick, short line pour that just introduces the water to part of the grind and for what that's worth, let it soak in for a few seconds; it's not enough to even start a drip. Then a second line pour with the same intent, not necessarily enough to drip, but just soak whatever grind it hits.

Then after another few seconds of letting that soak and settle, do a circular pulse pour that will likely cover the rest of the grind and instigate the drip if it hasn't already. From then, I add water gradually by pouring along the rims of the grind, never right onto the center of the grind, and each time letting the coffee drip out some (never completely) before adding more water. As the grind is saturated, it will take longer for coffee to drip out and so the water level will rise in the cone, but what I find works is keep the water level down as much as possible at first.

And it should foam naturally this way. I vaguely recall from way back someone recommending something about how much the grinds should foam. That kinda makes sense to me, not knowing the science, because it seems it might have something to do with aerating the grind which might have some beneficial effect on the "extraction".

I note that my way goes against other people's advice that the grind should be saturated immediately. I've tried that and I like the taste of my way better. If I were to get zen philosophical parody about it, my initial, non-saturating line pours are like getting the grind's attention and telling it "you are about to become coffee, breathe and smile", as opposed to just drowning the grind in complete saturation.

Also with my way, at the end of the drip, the grinds shouldn't be deposited high and thin on the filter, as with many coffee makers, but concentrated relatively low, which might make sense for good extraction, but again I don't know the science.

I think the key is hearing how other people do it, try it, experiment with variables and then if you're consistently quoting Harrison Ford saying, "Now that's good coffee!" (Witness), bam.

My desk set-up, just in case I have to move it all I'll know how to put it back together.

I don't think I can get through another year like 2012, but lord knows I'll try.

The first song that came up on shuffle play just past midnight was Half Past April by Rainer Maria. Sometimes I think iTunes has a mind.

random bits and pieces

Fuck, no, today is not happening. Not that there's anything wrong with it, just bring me tomorrow.

Window is temporarily closed for about a month, but that's a pile a shit. I've got my fingers on the pulse of every day. Again. That's also a pile of shit. And this window is a pile of shit, too. Something's going to thwart this, too. I'm enjoying listening to music way too much to not be distracted and attached to it to a fault.

Six hours yesterday with iPod earbuds in was not sensible and was too much. Don't do that again. Hearing in my right ear is patchy today and even computer speakers volume up hurts a little. And I notice the missing frequencies.

I'm not worried about my hearing, it's pretty good about recovering. If, however, noticeable hearing loss became permanent, I don't think I'd complain. Complaining would be stupid. I was a musician and I used to be concert-going, and despite protecting my ears, there's only so far that goes. Hearing loss is expected. It's payment for what I enjoyed.

The extended music listening yesterday was because I sat planted in the bookstore finishing reading "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho on several people's recommendations. Good, but of this metaphysical genre, I still like "The Little Prince" and "Illusions" better. No one dies in "The Alchemist". Well, there's your problem!

Yesterday I also had a "Dude! Where's my denim jacket?!" moment. How the fuck do you lose a denim jacket? Did it fall off while I was walking down the street? (somehow this made more sense than the possibility that I left it somewhere accidentally). But I backtracked my steps from the day before and recovered it from a pizzeria (Napoli on Bade Rd.), including camera, although the photos had been perused. They got bored when they reached my Hualien shots. Fair 'nuff.

Two things: I was totally surprised I recovered it. I expected it to be a loss. Two: in the U.S., even if I recovered the jacket, the camera would've been gone. Taiwan:2, U.S.: 0. And three: I wasn't that drunk.

And four: On one of my previous digital cameras, I took a picture of my contact information with a message of compensation for return of the camera. I don't know if it would work, but maybe I should do that again. Or not. I just don't care anymore.

I still don't "get" the seasons in Taiwan. Taipei, rather. Growing up in New Jersey and college in Ohio, the four seasons were well-defined, and I eventually realized I didn't have a favorite season, I just loved the change of seasons. Each transition was wonderful and lovely in its own way.

San Francisco had three seasons, although one was split in two. Summer was the foggy season. You could always tell who the tourists were in the summer because they were wearing shorts and t-shirts. And shivering. Spring and autumn were the nice season – nice temps, sunny skies. Winter was the rainy season.

But Taipei, I still don't get. Winters are cool, if not downright cold, and during the winters I can't imagine that Taipei could be a hot place. And that's what it is during the summer. Sweltering hot. Oppressive hot. Hot that makes me balk at going on rides at midday.

But during the summer heat, I can't imagine that in winter bundling up and heaters are required. Taipei doesn't make sense to me and I have no sense about when or how the transitions occur. I just know that summers are fucking hot, which I adore, and winters are nasty cold and rainy and mold grows everywhere.

If I gave Taipei another five years, I might start to understand it, but, inshah'allah, I'm not going to give Taipei another five fucking years.

I think I just condemned myself to another five years in Taipei. Well if so be it, bring me wenches!!

5:38 p.m. - BaDe Rd., sec. 4

Holy fuckin' shit I'm back.

Damn it took a long time to get internet installed. I've missed two months of posting deep and important personal revelations.

Pink Floyd's "Young Lust" sounds better when you're listening to it walking through a New Jersey mall.

"Buffy" season six is the only season that is incredible from start to finish.

SATURDAY, MAY 3 - Dajia riverside park with Taipei Grand Hotel, Dazhi Bridge, Nat'l Freeway #1, and airport weather radar visible. Pentax ZX-5n (panorama mode), Ilford XP2 Super.

I'm fighting the rain with chocolate. Lots of it. I bought a bulk pack of 10 bars of some Hershey's knock off. Don't know if it's working, but at least it will fatten me up. That was sarcasm.

The most memorable image for me from Pan's Labrynth is when Ofelia is eating the grapes. She just looks so smug and self-satisfied and it's a total break from the character the rest of the time. Popping bits of broken up chocolate bars into my mouth makes me feel smug and self-satisfied. It also makes me swat away the fairies flying around me trying to get me to stop.

Insight into my personality:

Remember the movie "Amadeus"? Well, I never saw it. But anyway I remember a song by Falco that may or may not be associated with it called, "Rock Me Amadeus". I hated the song back then, and I hate it now. Really annoying song.

For some twisted reason (probably just because I can), I downloaded it and the extended version of the song, and I have both on my current playlist.

The extended version is so fucking annoying. It mentions that Falco is Austrian. I know an Austrian guy at the language center. Every time the extended version comes up, I get so annoyed I want to punch that Austrian guy in the nose.

Oh, today, rain clouds loomed for most of the late afternoon, but it only started raining after I headed out to get in a quick run before it started raining. I hate Taipei, and apparently the feeling is mutual.

2:22 p.m. - Dunhua and Civic Blvd. Not to put too fine a point on it, they're called zebra crossings.

7:58 p.m. - Taipei in its natural environment (i.e., rain).

I've been a little slow on the uptake. I only heard last month about Billy Corgan megalomaniacally taking out a full-page ad in a Chicago newspaper expressing his feelings about how his heart has always been with Smashing Pumpkins and he wants to reform the band. That was apparently last June, when I was still at monastery.

I've been scrounging around for a review I wrote years ago which commented on Billy's megalomaniacally dramatic statement whilst breaking up the Pumpkins that he and James Iha would never perform on the same stage again. What, were we supposed to cry?

The gist of what I predicted was that they would be back together soon enough after all their solo endeavors flopped in comparison to what the Pumpkins achieved. I think my exact words about the break-up were, "Yea right. Good luck, Billy".

It had been more than six months when I finally got the news, and realized if something was going down with the Pumpkins, it was probably in the works now. But jaded from all the dramatics, I thought that I might give a new Smashing Pumpkins album a chance, but they would seriously have to earn my loyalty back.

Suddenly the anticipation is electrifying. The Pumpkins have had low points through the years, but everything Corgan has done has at least indicated there is huge talent being placed into anything he does (well, and then there was "Zwan", ugh). I guess I'm a true fan at heart.

Man, those Tiny Mix Tape writers are funny.

iTunes soundtrack:
1. Risky (Ryuichi Sakamoto)
2. The Song Remains the Same (Led Zeppelin)
3. Montmatre (Django Reinhardt)
4. Junior's Farm (Paul McCartney & Wings)
5. Epic Problem (Fugazi)
6. I Fought the Law (The Clash)
7. Reviewing the Situation ("Oliver!")
8. The Lap of Luxury/Now Wash Your Hands (Marillion)
9. Leave It to Rust (Enon)
10. Fullhouse (Kate Bush)

You see, folks, this is what I call newsworthy, certainly more so than the incessant story after story after story of sensational, 15 seconds of fame worth of paranoia/cynicism inducing bad news fed to us night after night on the television.

In short, a worker in a candy store in California was bagging the purchases of a customer and her diamond ring fell off into the bag. That made the news a few days ago. The person who found the ring returned it.

Having been well-trained in media cynicism, I can dig up a few points to be critical about, but no, the story is all we need to know. And if the news aired more stories like this, our realities wouldn't be such that petty criticisms can take down the point of a happy ending.

Remember, always look on the bright side of life.

This blog is really taking itself way too seriously.

Holy shit, Kristin Hersh sent me an email! On the ThrowingMusic site she invites anyone to send them an email, so I sent her some pics of herself:

KLi to kristin

Hi Kristin,
Just sending some shots from a while ago. no need to reply. The Cafe DuNord was on April 17, 2004, and the Slim's shot was on May 9, 2003. All rights and permission for these shots are given to you to do as you please.
much love,
KLi



And she replied:

Kristin Hersh to me

Thank you for sending these!! I don't have any of us opening for X and that was such a cool night for me.

Love,
Kristin

a few minutes later, she wrote again:

Kristin Hersh to me

Oops, I thought the Muses @ Slims shot was 50FootWave at Slim's - which was the X show - my mistake. But STILL awfully nice of you to send shots to me!

Love,
K

I don't know about you, but I was tickled pink. Gawd, I love that woman. No wonder the Throwing Muses fan base is so family-like. And Kristin is like . . . mom.

I love walking around with my iPod on shuffle and having a string of songs come up that give me the feeling that what I'm hearing is the soundtrack to my walking, my observation, my experience walking. It's only disturbing when the string of songs make me feel like I'm walking around in a karaoke video, and I imagine myself in a bikini with long hair flowing in the breeze on some tropical beach, and . . . this is so wrong.

I've been playing with my cousin's children a lot lately. Whenever I play with children, I start acting like a child. I'm finding it's not a far stretch.

I hope that constantly going "ew" at natural baby stuff is not bad for their self-esteem.

I would hope that Sarah Brightman is as creepy in person as she looks in concert. Otherwise she'd just be pretentious.

Apparently she's coming to town for a concert and they're advertising on TV.

Guerilla Poetry Corner, a series: by Gage-O
#7
"The Life of Greg"
Greg
got up this
morning
and
ate
the
food.

ha ha
hee hee

food is funny.

#8
"Judgement"

Are you Canadian?

Get the fuck away from me!

I've decided that joy and sorrow are not linear with sorrow going that way, and joy going the other way on a line scale; not two different, separate, opposite things. Rather, like most seemingly opposite things, they are one big circle and just gradients of the same thing.

There are times I've felt sorrow so intense that I started feeling pangs of joy in the bottom of it. And I'm sure it's much more common to feel such a great joy or beauty that it starts taking on tinges of sorrow in its ephemerality.

For me, at least. I wouldn't expect too many people to get the joy within the sorrow. When people get into the sorrow, they seem to just get stuck there. But I don't know. I guess it helps if you're characteristically suicidal or a fatalist. Or Murphy of Murphy's Law fame.

"Poetry Corner", a series, by Gage-O:
#6

“Little Thoughts”
Sometimes,
I have
little thoughts
about you.

I think,
maybe
she thinks
I’m rich
or something.

I think,
maybe
she thinks
I love
her.

I think,
maybe
she thinks
I’m a
robot
from
the planet
TRITOR 7QB.

"Poetry Corner", a series, by Gage-O:
#5
"Poem for the Millenium"

Grandma!
WHERE ARE MY SHOES?
Hey! Hey Grandma!
WHERE THE FUCK
ARE MY
FUCKING SHOES?

ANSWER ME!