Speckled sun strobe sojourn

Transit. Wide windows open to the world. Skirting down a road thru nowhere, not a bump in the asphalt. Smooth.
A light fog blankets the valley off the port bow of your streamlined ship, unstirred by the morning sun slowly emerging from its restless nest.
As the sun loosens its influence from the horizon, the light grows more intense, as if it too is renewed like that day you shall receive.
Not another car in sight, you open the throttle up a bit, feeling the nervous stimulant tickle your veins like an unknown hand stroking the back of your shoulder.
In this moment, you feel, no, are alive.

Wise old trees line the road, planted many generations ago by a farmer caught up in the simple pleasures of life.
The suns rays streak through the spectating trees, golden hues fill the interior and light up the sticky dust on the windshield in flashes. The faster you go, the faster it feels.
Strobing streaks of sun, tricking your iris into closing your pupils, shielding your eyes like blast-shields and then immediately reacting by opening again to the darkness.
Each time as they open, the receiving retina, ready for more, is blasted with fresh photons. You can feel the intenisty.
In this moment, you feel, no, are invincible.

Wise old trees turn to spirits, ancestors, egging you on to greatness. You're in a race, and they're supporters, chanting your name.
Excited fans, reaching to the skies with their arms and their eagerness, faceless yet familiar.
Their shadows form interesting shapes in the road and offer your mind a brief harbour from all the painful seas, a place to play.
The journey becomes easier, your mind refreshed.
In this moment, everything feels, no, is surreal.

You're the main star in an epic film, the camera is focused on you, the scene composed in that golden memory is perfect, and you're staring out the window.
Its the sorta scene lovelost fools will watch cheap-reproductions-of for many years and know exactly how you feel.
Its the sorta scene all aspiring directors would die to recreate, yet re-creation is cheap.
You're the main star in your own epic, but its not yet time for the final credits.
In this moment of moments, everything is perfect.

Typical

As South African's we require visas for almost any country. One such country is Germany.

We booked a day over at the Sheraton in Frankfurt, after requesting a hotel within the airport terminals, explaining our visa predicament. Today, when we arrived at Frankfurt Main, we discovered otherwise. The hotel is outside the airport, and we need visas to leave. ARGH!

So, we headed back the way we came, after getting felt up by the passport control nazis. Only to discover AFTER being felt-up, that we couldn't enter back into the same terminal we just came from due to US flight restrictions. To make matters worse, trying to head back into the terminal, our bags were checked more thoroughly than when we left. Holds up anyone? Certainly some double standards going on, if I was in the US, I'd hijack a plane leaving the US cos the security is so useless when departing.

We finally found a business lounge on the other side of the airport buildings, and have been here for over 4 hours now. God bless showers, power outlets and even a little nook to catch some zeds. (err Zees?) Gareth has crashed after a hang-over induced drowsiness, and I've been tinkering on my PC, sucking on caffeine and the measly bar snacks.

The view out the window near my cubicle is just amazing though, and makes up for the crapness that is lack of understanding. I've got a great view over a runway and 2 terminals, watching the lufthansa boeings and airbuses taxi, take off and land. There are about 5 C-5 Galaxy's parked on the opposite end of the runway. NATO transport perhaps? The weather is crisp yet boring.

Decadency at forty-one thousand feet

The meals were superb on the Lufthansa flight here. Supper last night was Caesar salad, pancake filled with duck and melon, crisp rolls and FINALLY some wholewheat bread that actually tasted nutritious. The main course was a fat wad of beef sirloin as tender as fillet, potatoes au gratin and fresh satueed veggies. Desert was Haggen Dasz ice cream, dripping with caramel, bailey's irish cream and praline chocolates. Mmmm!

This morning we woke to fruit salad, muffins, omelette. Bliss this is!

Splashing out

Saturday, whilst waiting for Gareth to finish off his work, I learnt of an Apple store just up the road from the office in Natick. After following our camp counsellor Larry (heh, the office space we sit in feels like a concentration camp, and Larry is our trustworthy uncle, always looking out for us) to the mall, we walked into the Apple store. Apple stores are amazing things. I walked out with a 20gb iPod maxi (the new model) and a carry-case for $330. Pretty good. iPod's packaging oozes style and well-thought-full-ness. I'm still impressed :D

I've used 6 out of 20gb.

The US and cell phones.

1-800-456!. The US has such a backwards cellphone industry. They're in love with crappy flip-phones. You pay for incoming calls and SMS's. T-mobile in general just sucks. I made 2 local calls, received 1 international, received 5 SMS's and sent about the same, in the space of 2 months. At $50 registration, I've been totally ripped off. Saturday, when I wanted to call Kerry in Canada (long-distance) I found out I didn't have any air-time! Happy Days and Jubilation.

Yet, the demand for edocs' products is outstanding in the US telco industry. European countries are picking up pace, but the bulk of work for edocs has been US based.

Starting to feel it...

9 hours later, I feel bushed, even my bones are tired.

A holiday in SA?

This sunday night, we'll be winging our way back to SA. A lousy 28 hours of travelling. :(

Thankfully we've got a booking at the Sheraton in Frankfurt, to sleep off the drowsiness and return balance due to the lack of sleep on the plane. What better way to get rid of 10 hours of stop-over than sleeping!

Then, for 2 measly weeks, we're meant to work remotely on edocs stuff, from the Consology offices? Hello, I work for Consology! Once those 2 weeks are up, we're meant to either fly back here to Natick, MA, or some project in EU.

Direction, or fumbling in the dark.

Obviously, the topic of my career has come up again. While I have been blissfully in tune with my current scope, I was recently doing work that was totally and utterly, well, boring. If you're not learning, you're not really enjoying anything workwise.

For those of you who don't know, heres the scope of my work...

To be vague, I'm a web developer. To be exact, I specialise in client-side markup and presentment in the form of (x)HTML and CSS. "HTML, That's Easy!" I hear you say, and you'd be right. Now ask yourself, is your HTML accessible? Do you rely on table elements to layout your pages? Do you even have a proper DTD entry in your pages and validate your markup against it? If your answers are Yes, No, Yes, you pass. :D

If not, you're probably part of that conciousness (or lack thereof) that believes that IE is a good browser, Dreamweaver is the best web development IDE ever and Accessibility is just a word.

My job of late has been nothing of that, no excitement, no challenges (except the eternal testing of patience). Its been the use of a third-party translation tool (tool's the word!), with cruddy tag-soup that we HAVE to use, and to make matters worse, probably have to change. Like I normally do in any uncomfortable situation, I try escape.

After chatting to the VP of edocs over lunch, I had a better idea of where I wanted to be, and my newly defined role within Consology and Edocs.

I want to be one of the Douglas Bowman's, Eric Meyer's and Dunstan's of the wired world. But at the same time I want to be known as the guy who made web standards possible within a Big-Web-Application™ such as Edoc's TBM product.

Is that too much to ask?

Slap my forehead for me, I missed an informal meeting of standards-savvy developers right here in Boston on the 13th. Guess I shoulda hooked up FeedReader ages ago :(

One step at a time

Information analysis, learning, researching, diverging. It's all got to start, big time. I still want to give Struts / Tiles a shot, learn more about XML / SVG, maybe even some Java. Then Usability, Analysis, Architecture, sheesh. Where will I find the time?

This blog is now feed enhanced...

Oom Fyre had a nifty blog item about feeds. So I conformed. Grab yours here

Don't know what a feed is? Read his thread, I'm too lazy right now.

<h1> mood modulation...

A signal, destination everywhere. Broadcast like the scent of blood in the water, at propoganda speed and strength.
A transmitter, with its head in the clouds, always sending, obliviously. Advertising like a bitch on heat.
Its sister receiver standing on tippy-toes, neglected, starting to feel demoted. Listening with its heart, but not really listening.
Maybe the answer is to just keep spewing, it defines me. When you're defined by your output, is there room for input?
Where are the bloodthirsty sharks? I don't see their fins pertruding from the cold waters...
Where are the technicians to fix this poor receiver? I can't hear the aluminium clutter their ladders make.
Service requests sent and escalated. Lost in upper management.

*dit dit dit..* Air - Alone in Kyoto, thanks Neill. *dit dit dit..*

Learn what you already know?

Why do artists go to college / varsity?

I understand that there is much theory and practicality in doing a degree in say Fine Art, but in learning techniques and styles, is the artist not becoming just-another-templatised-artist? Someone that can be categorised? "Hmm, a wonderful abstract piece". Surely art is something that's inside you? Surely the best art is appealing in its uniqueness?

Most musicians learn how to play their instruments on their own, others go to classes to learn advanced techniques. Pianists have to struggle at classes for years to be deemed high-class, garage bands strum until they find a kewl rhythym - Who is the better artist?

A calling...

Does anyone know anything about counselling in South Africa? Do you need a degree?

I've been giving some thought about doing a first year B.A Psych or some such, an introductory year? Anyone done Psych101?

so whats the theme for the day??
Pick one!
how about sunflowers??
Always staring at the sun, petals reaching out to grab as much of the warmth as they can, at night they feel sad, their friend the sun has left them again
they jostle for the suns love, trying to be the first awake, trying to be the last asleep, always attentive, always listening
too happy for me to handle!!
OK, your turn...
tell me about goldfish...
goldfish?? where'd that come from??
ok...lemme try
very suspicious...always on the lookout for somethin bad to happen to them...
hungry in a very needy kinda way
i'm not good at this
go on!
think about what they look like, what they must be thinking...
very seedy eyes...thats prbbly cos they alwasy envy the other fish...bigger stronger..watever..
very insecure most of the time
thats probably why they travel in shoals
heh, kewl!
I like that seedy description
ur just bein nice!!
no!
You've made me look at goldfish differently now
i dunno y i look at things so negatively
does that reflect on me
in sum twisted way??
it does a little
explore it, play with it...
why are the goldfish suspicious?
cos they're scared sum1 'll take wat they have away
all the beauty thats around them
...and now the positivity shines thru...
no...they admire the beauty i guess but are jus so scared to be comfortable in the fact
that it belongs to them
and no1 can take that away
your positivity was shining thru
was bein the keyword there
jus a glimpse of it huh??
yes, build on it!
yea i gotta try

Life is stimulating. There is human essence and experience in everything we do. Greets to Divya.

So this is what its all about...

On Saturday I spent about $600 on various gifts, clothes and sutff, all the while having fun doing it! We've been getting a per diem allowance since we arrived here: $50 a day for food, gas*err*petrol, and other amenities. Like typical South African's we've been carpooling everywhere, eating bread and soup and watching excess expenditure. Today we splashed out.

Yeah, 1 week now till we return. I'm looking forward to it.

Watched an episode of Def Poetry last night. Stimulating.

A beggar and a liar, a streetfool hermit hooked on haze, hand-me-downs and honourless offerings. Handouts are appreciated but the taste doesn't persist, like cheap bubblegum, better used at the bottom of a shoe.
How did I end up here, on the side of a road, hidden away in an alleyway, festering with the rats and roaches of this life. How could anyone droop this low.
I feel so dirty, that not even a trip through a carwash on the roofrack would help. I feel dirty inside, forgotten and alone. Like the blood on Macbeth's hands, you can never wash it off. It's so dirty inside.
You pay me for my services as a hopeless soul, the one making you think you could be worse off, gratifying yourself with what you have, as if a nickel or a quarter is paying homage to your own dignity or keeps you from falling this low. I have to spend everything you give me on escaping this tiring reality.
Might as well enjoy myself while I can right? Who needs food for the body when you can lick intently on the delicacies of the brain. It's too cold here anyway. I need something to light me up from inside.
Do you really think you're helping me when you dish out your spare change? Sure, my hand is extended...
...but its not asking for money.

Where is that full moon?

I'm feeling more useless than a KFC bucket in the United Bloats of America, without the chicken. I can't put my finger on it, but its probably this laborious and seriously boring work I've got to do atm.

It could also be a total anti-climax after a weekend of thrills and pain. (weird, I thought weekends lifted spirits, they did on Monday at any rate)

Mount Washington, nineteenhundredsomethingmeters, pfft!

Can you imagine this hiker-who-doesn't-look-like-a-hiker actually climb a frikkin mountain? One can't. Scathing. Scalding, hot water, please shut the tap off before I start leaking and turning your water red.

In my dream, (cos thats what it is) there were 4 of us. We arrived in New Hampshire early-ish (it felt early-ish) on Saturday morning... It was really whacked, I dreamt I needed a piss-stop and at this weird little piss-stop, there were only vending machines and a small information kiosk. Here we picked up a map of the area. My requirement for a piss-stop vanished immediately and we were on the road again. Weird huh?

Upon closer inspection of the map, we read about a magical place called Flume Gorge. An old log-flume with some fantastic water works. (something KayCee would love to see, I thought to myself). After dangling our possessed cameras in front of our eyes and not hearing the machinations churn inside for hours, we were caught in a loop of a trail around this watery-wonderland filled with other machinationless-camera-toting-individuals. One pair of them even talked to me, it was surreal, there mouths didn't open but I could understand them!

Then we mounted our chariot once again and headed to meet the wise-old-man-of-the-mountain. Well, we avoided him actually and went to Pinkham Notch. We had seen photos of the wise-old-man-of-the-mountain anyway, and even joked about his alter-ego, wise-guy-of-the-mountain.

After handing our monopoly money over to a puckered-lipped-hotel-manager we had secured our beds for the night, but there was an insatiable need to first rid us of our afternoon. Heh, buying beer in a dream is a unique experience, I felt like I wasn't dreaming.

After throwing rocks into the river till my arms hurt (In this dream I could throw with both arms, equally well) and enjoying a collection of niceties hot off the fire, it was time to head to the slumber hovel.

How many of you dream you're sleeping?

Early that next morning, we packed our kits and got on our respective steeds. We were out for a killing, a bounty of epic-movie-based proportions. Hell yeah, that first saloon we stopped at not only had hot news of our intended prey, but a pretty darn good eggs and bacon if I might say so myself.

After a goodbye kiss from the wenches, we rode into the wilderness.

Attitude determines altitude. Well, it did on the way up. Dirt trail became shale and loose rock. Boulders sprouted, and grew. We struggled on, after shooting our horses.

At one point we stopped and turned around and witnessed creation and it was amazing! Seeing the Appalachians in all their glory is a sight to be seen, preferably from a few thousand feet up.

One more section to go, the boulders turn to sharp craggy rocks, lined with our friend Lichen. This part was tough! Each step was a step towards the summit. At this point my brain in my dream was playing mental-challenge games with me, both booing and encouraging me. MUST MAKE IT! MUST SHOW THIS BEAST WHOS BOSS! Hello, what's this? A car?! Here?!?!

Talk about an anti-climax. Every Jim, Ed and Doris was at the top of this mountain, sucking on their low-carb-snacks admiring the view. There was no flag placement, no catching a breathe of fresh air, just jostling with the sugar-toting-sheep.

The trip down was harder on the knees, toes, shins, ankles, hamstrings, quads, calves and some unknown muscle groups than going up. My toes squealed under the vertical pressure like a piglet trapped beneath a press. Each step was a calculated move, often ending in an unculculated grimace. But I and therefore we made it.

Fooood! Slops! Fresh T-Shirt! Relaxing time! We took a drive down the road to a local pub. I was the pre-determined designated driver, so I sucked on my shake / coffee / coke and scoffed down my burger whilst gleefully watching the 3 ou toppies gradually become children all over again. Beer seems so much more effective after strenuous activities :D We left about 3 hours or so later (it felt longer) and drove through plenty of small new-hampshire hamlets before coming across a peaceful lake just off the road to nowhere. Drunken Courage prevailed, as the little babies clambered into the warm waters and played dodgems with the trout.

After fending off the increasing number of spectators and getting the kids back into the car, we were finally on the road again. The sun had set a long time ago, so it was after 9PM with 3 hours of driving left.

Those 3 hours passed quick enough, but when we arrived back at the hotel I was bushed. Another hectic weekend under the belt. Did I mention this was a dream? How could a netophile cross gamer geek like me seriously climb a mountain? I'm warped.

Splashing out on music is a good investment

Almost a month ago, I bought:

1. Queens of the Stone Age - Songs for the deaf
2. BT - Movement in Still Life
3. Audioslave - Audioslave
4. Incubus - Morning View
5. Seether - Disclaimer

Of those 5, BT and Incubus stand shoulders above the rest. Movement in still life is an oldish electronica / euro-dance album with tracks as stead-fast as Godspeed and the smack-down Madskillz. Recommended for any listener dreaming of the good old electronica days.
Incubus just can't seem to do any wrong with this album. After buying "Make Yourself" and burning holes in it, this seemed a logical purchase. Pity I missed their concert here in Boston. :/
Audioslave's album is incredible, but filled with nonsense towards the end, probably cos all the popular hits are in the beginning.
Queens of the Stone Age could be deemed repetitive, but they've got awesome riffs and good experi-metal tracks.
Now Seether, eish, these guys have lost that rough diamond sound that made them so good. The production on this US based disc is piss poor in comparison to Saron Gas's Fragile. Its still good though.

What else?

Our return tickets have been booked for the 25^th of July. 7 hours of flying to Frankfurt. No less than 10 hours lay-over in Frankfurt, the worst airport in the world. 11 hours flight back home. I hope I can sleep on the plane.

We'll be back in SA in time for a Consology team-building event which is basically a day at the Kyalami Skid-pan playing with BMW's. After 14 or so days we'll probably be back on a plane to Boston again.

Nitrogen...

Barometer drops, brewing clouds, thickening with renewal, laden with life.
Primer drops, sacrificing themselves like lone lemmings, they're the brave ones.
They escape the mass of thoughtless ones, the sky-borne social template types.
Hurtling to earth, friction deforming them as they descend to their doom. Is it doom?
Ground rush, adrenaline valves wide open, the closing of invisible eyes before the moment of impact.
You're not alone, my brave friends. You've inspired others, given them courage.
With masses in safety, the escape from the uplift is achieved by pooling together.
It's that moment where you feel alive, when the rain splashes down on everything it can touch.
You can smell the fresh rain blood on the air, a massacre of molecules.
The plants reach up towards the obscured sky, yearning for a drop in the right spot.
Life is renewed, there is hope for another day, everything is relaxed.
I want to be out there, jumping through the freshest of showers. I want you there with me.

25.02739726027397260273972602739726 years old

A new month, a new year, a new journal entry. New chances at life, new opportunities, new enemies and new friends. One specially new friend, someone I can *really* talk to. What a kewl birthday present - thanks Agent J for introducing us and Agent K for being who you are.

I feel stoked, its amazing what a weekend away can do for your spirits.

Washington DC, the sequel.

It all started early on Saturday morning, too early in fact. Remember what I was saying about efficiency? We parked at a bus terminal and caught a bus into the airport. Like clock work, the buses leave on the hour for the rather busy airport that is Logan International. We self-checked-in and boarded the 737 destined for New York's La Guardia Aiport. NYC is AMAZING from the air! There after we boarded another connecting flight to Baltimore / Washington International. It was a snazzy Dash8 32 seater, bumpy, but nice to fly in a prop-driven airplane again.

Chris and Heidi collected us from the airport, and after a little shopping we managed to put our bags down. Just when we thought we could sit down, Chris had arranged for us to go meet some friends, on our bicycles.

A few hours later my body was in total agony, but my mind was bouncing up and down like an excited toddler, we completed about 30 kilometers that day cruising Rock Creek Park on the bikes. They have tunnels for bicycles in DC! It was an amazing experience. We stopped off to get some beers and Gareth's Camera took the timed shot of me trying to pull a smile through the dizziness.

On our return we came accross this poor soul, trapped between a busy road and a fence. She was panting and shaking, not happy about her circumstances :/ We thought it better to move on as some others tried to herd her back to the park. I arrived home sweating like a convict on execution day, Washington is VERY humid, worse than Durban I rate. That night, we had an awesome home-cooked-meal-ala-Heidi-again with good friends. I remember going to sleep that night feeling satisfied. Gareth, Chris, Chris and Paul went out boozing. :D

The next day was a lazy one, the type I could picture doing for the rest of my life. We all woke up late, then mozied our way through to Chris and Heather's place for a waffle breakfast. Followed by an entertaining round of Cranium, in which Gareth and Chris were visibly fading. We left for a few zeds cos that night was gonna be busy :D

Picture it, or just clicky! Chris G had arranged for us to sit on the roof of this building from 8 onwards... The clouds were very low, and jumbos lit up the sky coming into land over the Potomac at Reagan International. The light gradually faded, Arlington burned bright from accross the river and people flooded the boardwalks 8 storeys below us. A few beers later, it started. 30 minutes of fiercy firey passion, kaleidoscopes of colour. $250 000 worth of the best fireworks I've ever seen. It was nothing short of spectacular. I'm just sorry I don't have any photos to share, they wouldn't do it justice.

That pretty much meant we had an excellent evening with good friends. Time was indeed well spent. That night, I fell asleep to the same feelings from the night before. 2-0, go happiness!

Monday was a public holiday as a follow on from the 4th. I lazed around while Chris and Gareth did more cycling, and that night we had a delicious meal over at Georgia Brown's in downtown Washington. Chris introduced us to a very nice wine and fried green tomatoes. This was my birthday time. The next day, my 25th, we were up early to return to Boston for work. At about 6AM the SMS's started. Thanks for all the wishes everyone!

Work? Damn.

Work is getting boring, especially after having such a wicked weekend and now getting back to robot work. I hate not being challenged, well, my patience is being challenged, but still. If you're not learning anything you should find something else I reckon. I was to do some stuff for BT.com but they're so backwards its scary. They PAY a company to produce designs for them, pity these numbnuts have no clue on technical standards. Their designs are uber though. Check em out at www.agency.com. Dorks.