girl of my dreams

Ah... hello darkness my old friend. I'm nearly ready to bleed out another one of these entries. Scene: the end credits from Angel Heart, as Mickey Rourke slowly descends in that old rickety elevator cage, going down and down, headed to Hell, while that magnificent, tormented tenor sax of Courtney Pine ascends further and further toward the heavens with the remnants of "Girl of My Dreams" echoing in the distance. More than anything else in the entire movie, that scene stays with me.

so what if you reached the age of reason, only to find there was no reprieve?
would you still be a man for all seasons, or would you just disbelieve?

soundtrack: Annie Lennox, "Why"; U2, "With or Without You"

...and even now, what could have been, what might have been, is doomed to walk endless halls of echoing silence, forever remaining...what could have been...what might have been.
in a place beyond places, a time out of time, i endure the endless suffocation and drowning of my spirit beneath the crushing empty darkness that occupies a place where hope and grace once dwelled.
far beyond the last realms of faith and caring, i silently orbit the burnt altar of my dreams and measure out my remaining days pondering the subtle and subtly cruel ways that people may cause pain for one another, and the endless futile quest for love or even merely for acceptance.

Overhead, without any fuss, the stars were going out.

So what if you reached the Age of Reason, only to find there was no reprieve? I wonder if other people walk around with a soundtrack as well as a subtext going through their mind most of the time. I know music works like a key in the lock of my carefully crafted wall of distance that allows me to get through the day without breaking down into little pieces, so there are certain bits of music we don't play; certain movies we avoid; certain books or poems we'd prefer to forget.

Hello darkness my old friend; I've come to talk with you again. I begin to see that within my lifetime that science and technology may progress to the point of non-living (wait, what's living anyway) --let's say non-biological entities that will store more information, think faster, and (as we find out more about how the brain works) completely and undetectably duplicate the human brain and personality. The AI movement, combined with massive increases in memory, processing power, parallel processing techniques -- the goal is not exactly close, but not unrealistic. Combine this with advancement on the biological front of analyzing and understanding the brain, internal thought processes, the nature of memory, etc. and eventually being able to treat human memory as we do silicon memory, i.e. read/write/erase. The logical outcome of the two paths is that we will posess the ability to download the contents of the brain into a non-living device that will posess at least as much storage and processing capability as the original (if not far more), is expandable/upgradable, and has a near-infinite lifespan. Nevermind how humanity will cope with the moral issues; the question that troubles me most is this: If I make an exact copy of my brain (i.e. my personality) and install it in a nth generation hardware device that has similar or greater processing/storage power than my original brain, comparable speaking and communicative abilities -- WHO exactly will be the REAL ME? Will the download/transfer process copy or move the (for lack of a better word) ID, seat of consciousness, soul, or what have you? If the hardware device is housed a good-enough similacurum (sp?) to my body, who is ME anymore? If said android (cause I guess that's what it is) kills the biologic version, is he killing ME, or just eliminating my unnecessary biologic housing? Not unlike the transporter problem -- what if the people don't disappear at the near point, after they (or copies of themselves) have materialized at the far point? I don't know what the value of "life" is anymore, if it will become possible to digitize (more or less) it, store it, download it, etc. I really feel as if it would be nice to just download whatever I have in here and be done with it. Let some future entity decide what makes the best use of the strange and useless blend of knowledge and abilities that I am, because I've certainly done a crappy job of accomplishing that myself.

The title, btw, is from AC Clarke's story The Nine Billion Names of God, in which it is postulated that the single purpose of the entire Universe is to discover the true name of God, handily accomplished in 3 months instead of 15 centuries by use of a computer. Whereupon...The End (of everything) ensues. Maybe I'd feel better if when I left I knew everything else was going as well?

In the chilly hours and minutes,
Of uncertainty, I want to be,
In the warm hold of your loving mind.

To feel you all around me,
And to take your hand, along the sand,
Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind.

When sundown pales the sky,
I wanna hide a while, behind your smile,
And everywhere I'd look, your eyes I'd find.

For me to love you now,
Would be the sweetest thing, 'twould make me sing,
Ah, but I may as well, try and catch the wind.

When rain has hung the leaves with tears,
I want you near, to kill my fears
To help me to leave all my blues behind.

For standin' in your heart,
Is where I want to be, and I long to be,
Ah, but I may as well, try and catch the wind.

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
"Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep;"
Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n,
Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav'n.
Grace shines around her with serenest beams,
And whisp'ring angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,
And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes,
For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins hymeneals sing,
To sounds of heav'nly harps she dies away,
And melts in visions of eternal day.

more stupid updates

Unbelievable that as we approach the end of the first decade of the 21st century that Microsoft is still forcing reboots to do things like updating a browser??? I mean MULTIPLE reboots? GAH. Annoying enough that I lost my focus on the fact that Mom came THIS close to Baker-acting Dad this afternoon. Yes, that close. While I was pulling the sheets and blankets over my head and trying not to be there, my head was perfectly empty of thought -- had this happen before. Don't mistake it for peace, what comes to mind is that famous quote from "The Silence of the Lambs", which deals with the actual silence of the lambs. Hours later, I felt a new understanding of "Shotgun Down the Avalanche", which seems reasonably ironic that this is now April 1st. Yesterday was also my parents' 58th wedding anniversary. Nice day, huh?

handwriting

I am completely appalled at how bad my handwriting is, when the scarce opportunity comes along to have to use it. Anything beyond my signature (nearly unreadable in itself) just looks completely horrible. My hand seems to have memories of what it should be doing, but the result is not even to the level of my previous chicken scratch. This is part of the insidious Evil Plan for computers to take over the world, of course (if they would even want it these days). First we lost our math skills due to cheap calculators, now we will lose the ability to communicate without keyboards. When we get voice response will we lose our fingers? Must practice my handwriting and break out the sliderule and practice my survival skills. One never knows when it might be necessary to indulge in calculus for self-defense.