Triple Entendre (triple_entendre) wrote,
Triple Entendre

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My pain is better than your pain

Intellectually I know I'm a blessed, lucky bastard.

But right now, this moment, all I can see is hurt and loss and pain.

Mercifully, the Universe has bestowed me with an infinite distractibility. Hah!

Remind me to write up the theory behind the way I do my 'web browsing'. Some original ideas there.

Help! I am trapped in's masterful seduction! It's mind crack! 12 browser tabs and climbing, as fast as I close one it relates to two more and I am transfixed like a train barrelling towards an innocent rabbit but I am the train and the rabbit.

"In a brilliant variation of the tired, old VR theme, Nylund does not create his artificial experiences out of pixels projected on to retinas, but out of vivid metaphors projected directly into the brain. There is a very literal dream quality..."

I want! I want! I want to project metaphors directly. Yes.

And the boy in the belfry he's crazy
He's throwing himself down from the top of the tower
Like a hunchback in heaven
He's ringing the bells in the church for the last half an hour
He sounds like he's missing something or someone that he knows he can't have now
And if he isn't, I certainly am.

In Liverpool - Suzanne Vega
For me, those three bittersweet, poignantly emphasized words, "can't... have... now..." .... . .... . . . . ....!

A quick meta-web-associative-survey shows that most people who identify with this song are single. I am not single. I am multiple? That is, I have multiple sources of companionship, yet I ache just as badly for those I have 'lost'.

Please don't litter:
Greg Egan _Axiomatic_
So you'd like to ... Deconstruct Yourself
_Distraction: A Novel_, Bruce Sterling
A couple of weeks after valiantly dozing through a lecture by Bruce Sterling at the Austin Museum of Art, I was in the order line at Ruby's (NOT Rudy's, please) BBQ on 29th street and I heard a voice that sounded so familiar I immediately turned full around to see the person, whoever they were, that clearly was someone I knew. A couple of seconds of incomphrehension and I realized it was him, and why I recognized his voice.

It strikes me as funny to recognize someone because of their being a public figure, and to have my first reaction be disappointment that it wasn't a friend. Oh, it's just somebody famous, bummer.

"Your voice is very distinctive," I offered decisively, and turned back around. Bruce didn't even pause in the conversation he was carrying on, I am glad to report.

The Gulf War Did Not Take Place
How to Write a Damn Good Novel
Schild's Ladder
Against Method
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