Diary of a Network Geek

A little self-medication goes a long way.
My regular readers will be pleased to know that the Scotch Cure worked wonders the other night and I feel right as rain again.
Which is good, because I found out yesterday that reading scripture Christmas Eve is a little more invovled than I first thought. Normally, whoever reads the scripture just stands up in the middle of the congregation with a microphone and reads it. Well, for Christmas Eve, they want us up on the dias with the minister and what not. Yikes! I haven’t done that since I was a kid. In spite of the impressions I’ve given some readers here by allegedly “baring” my “soul”, I’m a fairly shy person. Oh, I over-compensate a lot, but, I think most people can see that I’m a little uncomfortable being out-going. It’s one of the reasons I’m not in sales. I can turn it up and be on, but it’s so draining on me some days that I just couldn’t see making a career out of it. More power to those of you who can.
Anyway, I’m going to be up there in front of God and everybody, if you’ll pardon the expression. Normally, we’re really casual at Mercy Street, but, now, I think I need to dress up a bit. Black jeans at least. Maybe even a dark sports coat. Possibly a tie. Whoa! Did I just think that? A tie? Yeah, maybe not.
Yes, I both love and hate performing, even at this level, and it’s something I haven’t done in years.

Oh, and I called my favorite Thai restraunt, Paddy Thai, and I confirmed that they are closing. The last day they’re open will be December 30th and, if I understood correctly, they’re donating the proceeds and left over food that day to a women’s shelter. See? These are the kind of people they are and why I’ll miss them.

No, not another silly game.
I’ve been reading a lot of blogs lately. Okay, probably too many and in too much detail, but, still, I’ve seen a pattern emerge. Folks are sure depressed this time of year. Mostly, I’m not, though. Sure, I’ve got mounds of debt, no hope for promotion or salary increase in my current job, I’m single and a little lonely, I miss my step-daughter who won’t talk to me because of lies told to her by her mother, I just had a roommate move in after swearing never to do that again after college, I’d like to lose a couple pounds and I can’t afford to go see my family at Christmas. But, it’s still okay. My life is in a state of change, as is everyone’s. Right now, the universe is roughing off a part of my life that, well, isn’t working well. Not sure what part that is, yet, but that’s what’s been going on for the past year.
So, I’m happy. Why? Well, let’s count the blessings, eh? I have a job that lets me pay my bills. I have my house and my dog. My dog still loves me. I have a good roommate and the extra rent doesn’t hurt. I have no major maladies, physical, mental or emotional. I have family who, despite the stupid things I’ve done and said over the years, still loves me very much. And, frankly, as crazy as it is this year and as dark as things seem sometimes, my life is still better than it was last year at this time.
Hey, there are homeless people out there who would love to have a warm place to sleep. There are guys in jail who would love to have a family to come home to when they get out. There are lots of people who can’t pay their bills at all. So, what do I have to kick about?

Right. So, how do I maintain that? Find someone to help. Simple, isn’t it? Find someone who’s worse off than you, and, yes, there’s always someone, and then help them. Doesn’t have to be big. Doesn’t even have to involve money. Just a little time spent listening can help. Or a hug to someone who needs it. Maybe a few words of encouragement that gets someone over that unbearable hump. We can all make a difference, one little smile at a time.
So, your Christmas Season Advice from your Uncle Jim? You only pass this way once, but you can leave a memory that lasts a lifetime. What kind of memory do you want to leave people? I suggest a smiling face and a kind word. Folks seem to remember that longer than the other.

If anyone needs me for anything, just leave a comment. If you want to keep it private, start the comment PRIVATE! and I’ll make sure it doesn’t post to the blog.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"There are three ways to get something done: do it yourself, employ someone, or forbid your children to do it."
   --Monta Crane

Uh, then, can we have them?
Remember that hand-crank laptop I mentioned some time back? Well, the chairman of Intel, Craig Barrett, seems to think that the poor don’t really the clockwork laptops. Uh, okay, then can the moderately poor get some? How about the barely middle-class? I know a lot of those kind that would dig them, especially if they’re going to run Linux.
Gee, you don’t suppose he’s trying to kill this because they’re not going to use Intel chips, do you? Naw! Of course not! What was I thinking?

So, who’s worthy of your coveted link section on your blog?
Today, instead of working like a fevered dog, I read blogs. Lots of them. In fact, I left comments on quite a few, too. Some of these blogs, I’ve been reading for months, and some, I just started reading recently. Some of these fine folks have links to my website, but not everyone and there is no direct correllation between length of time I’ve been reading and commenting on their blogs and whether or not I have a link.
That made me think about who I link to, and why. The answers are not good. There’s little ryhme and less reason to why I link to folks on that sidebar menu. Sometimes, it’s because they have useful professional information. Sometimes, it’s because they’re funny. Or, because their writing really touched me in some way or another. Sadly, sometimes, it’s little more than a very limited popularity contest. If I like you, you get a link. Sometimes, I just like people, even though I may not agree with them or be a part of their world at all, but, still, I like them, so…
Yeah, I know, it’s so very, very Junior High of me, but, well, so be it.
So, why do you all link to other people’s blogs? And, more importantly, why do you not link to others?

It’s going to be a long week.
The day’s not even half over and I just want to curl up in a fetal ball under a comforter with the dog and sleep for the next two weeks or so. Maybe I’m getting sick. Or am sick. (I mean catching a cold, you wisenheimers!) But, I can’t get sick. Christmas is coming and I still have to get to my favorite Thai place before it closes and I’m reading the scripture Christmas Eve and…

Oh, yeah, in a moment of weakness, I got suckered into reading scripture. I’ve been practicing my radio voice for the past two days as a result. And, yes, I’ll probably record the scripture that I’m going to read and have it on my website by Christmas Eve.

Now, it’s time for lunch with a chaser of vitamins, aspirin and echinacea. To bed early tonight….

How “civilized” are we really?
The other day, I was thinking about the phrase “like attracts like”. I’d been talking with a friend about relationships and my seemingly fruitless search for a datable woman. Oh, I know, there are plenty out there, but I never seem to run into any, or they have “issues”, like they have a husband or they have thousands of miles between us. In any case, we were talking about a woman I know who thought she’d found the One, only to discover that he wasn’t quite what she thought. This dear thing, who’s recently been through a divorce and has been dating about six months, isn’t really over her marriage ending, I don’t think. My friend knows the story and, when I told him about her latest difficulty, said, “healthy attracts healthy”. (Which, incidentally, might explain why he and I are both single! But, that’s another story.)
Well, I thought about that phrase. It sounded so familiar that I just couldn’t let it go. Turns out, that’s the Law of Attraction, as laid out by most coffee-house mystics who read their tarot decks. “Like attracts like.” Of course, I quickly made the jump to something my ex-wife posted on her blog right before she left me, “What am I? Flypaper for freaks?” Well, setting judgement aside, considering that she married me, it still made me wonder. How often does that kind of magical thinking, often expressed in “folk sayings”, direct our actions?
Consider, “Don’t judge a book by its cover”. A warning against doing something comes naturally to us. Another “law”, the Doctrine of Signatures, says “the attributes without mirror the attributes within”. At some level, we think that what we see on the surface is the reality of a thing. This is just a warning that we might be misinterpreting what we see. That there is more to the universe than what our five senses percieve.
Then, there’s my old favorite, “guilt by association”, or in a more folksy way, “If you lay down with dogs, you wake up with fleas”. That, simply, is the Law of Contagion, or, “contact results in contagion”. That which we touch or become overly familiar with becomes a part of us, and, conversely, we become a part of it. In magical thought, this is how so-called voodoo dolls work. The doll represents the whole, but we think this way all the time when it comes to people. How many times have you decided not to get involved with someone because of the company he or she keeps? I can’t count the number of times I got this message in one form or another when I was growing up. The admonition to keep to one’s own tribe.

So, why do we think this way? Can we overcome this kind of thinking? Should we? Does it serve its purpose and make our society what it is?
I don’t know, folks. I don’t have any answers, just questions. And, I’m always looking for better questions.

A how-to guide.
Remember how I wrote that there’s a trick to that yakuza ritual of cutting off a finger? Well, the trick’s not saki. No amount of alchohol fixes that. You need a couple of things for the yakuza ritual. A very sharp knife, white silk, a presentation box, and an iron soul.
In the old days, when warriors relied on their swords and loyalty to their clan, the severing of a finger was more than symbolic, more than a gesture of apology. It was about grip. Gripping a sword. Fewer fingers meant a weaker grip. A weaker grip meant that one’s ability with a sword was diminished and reliance on one’s clan for protection became more important. The oyabun, father-figure/leader, grew in importance because he protected the weakened warrior. The individual who had erred became more dependant on his group, and less likely to err again. That is what took courage. Not the cutting. Cutting yourself is easy, but reliance on others, now, that’s hard.
In modern times, the symbolism took greater significance. The determination to show proper respect and symbolic reliance on one’s clan, one’s group, one’s gang, was the real test. And, in some ways, that’s the trick. That has to matter more than the pain. More than the loss. More than the fear. Who among us has that in abundance? Not I. The rest of the trick is about blood-flow. You see, the silk serves two purposes. First, it is used to dress and present the severed finger joint. The goal is to cut the finger, prepare and present it to the boss, asking forgiveness in the politest way, all without passing out. The second, and in many ways more important, use of the silk is to cut off the flow of blood to the finger-joint about to be severed. Why? Well, it deadens the pain and the blood loss is one of the ways a person might pass out.
The rest of the trick, of course, is being willing. Being willing to cut a part of one’s self away to more closely bond to the group. Cutting for the sake of cutting has no point, but, cutting with a higher purpose… Well, I have tattoos, and would love to get the half-suit tattoo like the yakuza traditionally wear, but am I willing?
Mostly, no. Not anymore. I have been. I maybe again. But, not today. Today, all I’m willing to do is bind the wounds of others. As so many have done before. For me. I can heal you easier than I can heal myself. More’s the pity. Now, the trick, for me, is what was left for the apologetic yakuza soldier after the cutting ritual. Strengthening the bond. I’m ready.
Are you?

Uncle Jim’s Advice for the day? Only cut when you’re willing to bond stronger afterwards. Otherwise, there’s no point in the ritual.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Sometimes someone says something really small and it just fits into this empty place in your heart."
   --Angela, "My So-Called Life"

Yeah, so what keeps you up at night?

I have a leak in that crazy water sculpture thing I did a couple of months ago. Apparently, in the cold, a seal popped and now there’s water everywhere. Of course, I didn’t find it until after church, so I can’t do anything about it until the morning.

I worry about my readers. I’ve got far too many good-looking, female readers for my comfort level. Do you ladies worry about that? The guys who read your blogs? See, I have a little social anxiety and that spills over to here. I’m afraid of scaring you all away with my crazy thoughts. Yet another reason to self-edit, eh? It really freaks me out to think you’re out there reading this. Geeks are safe, but, you adorable, magnificent, brilliant, beautiful ladies scare the bejeezus out of me. Really.

Who the heck is reading my blog via a Blackberry? Look, I know four people who might read this blog that also have Blackberries. One is a guy I see every day at work and he had no need to read this blog. He knows details about my life that this blog will never, ever see. One is a lady, and I mean a real lady, who could, in theory, read my blog wirelessly, but, again, has no real reason to do so. (In fact, Uncle Jim will let you pretty gals in on a secret. You want to know more about me than what’s showing up here? Ask me. You’ll be horrified at how free I am with personal information. If you ask the right questions, you’ll even get answers to things I should keep my big yap shut about, too.) The other two are my ex-wife and her meal ticket. But, since I know it burns them up to read this stuff, I don’t block their IP addresses. Let them come! So, they might be reading this on a Blackberry, but they sure don’t need to. Who are you mystery Blackberry user? Who are you!?

I also worry about why I can’t seem to overcome inertia enough to get my ex-wife’s junk thrown out. Granted, there’s a lot of it and some of it I should sell, but, still… Hey, anyone want to buy a platinum wedding ring with low mileage? Hardly worn, I swear! (No joke. She hardly wore her wedding ring. And, yes, I worry why I couldn’t see that sign of impending doom.)

I lay awake at night trying to figure out safe topics for small talk. Why is it that I can talk to girls under the age of twelve and women over the age of fifty, but women between twenty-one and forty leave me speechless? Last week a woman in that age group was watching me at church. Yea, church. I was doing origami, as I often do during the sermon, and she was watching me out of the corner of her eye. I should have been able to chat her up, shouldn’t I? What should I have said?

Why is it so hard to get a cup of coffee? I mean regular coffee, not a complicated Starbucks Venti Caramel Macchiato Half-Caf with a Ristretto, Upside Down. All I want is a cup of regular, black diner coffee. Where can you get that in Houston? I mean, without getting a whole meal. I just want a simple cup of coffee. Is that so much to ask? Sure, coffee houses are nice places to meet and talk and whatever, but, uh, if I wanted that kind of complication, I can dwell on my failed marriage. Thanks, but I’d rather have something easier that doesn’t give me gas or indigestion.

Why do pretty women roam in packs like wild marauders in a dystopian, post-nuclear-holocaust science-fiction movie?

Does my dog really smile at me? And is it because she really loves me or because I feed her?

Am I ugly? Too fat? Does my goatee look weird?

Do chicks really dig “sensitive guys” who pour their emotions out in a blog?

Am I cool because I have tattoos? Or does that freak people out, too?

Is it really cool to be a computer geek again?

Does desperation really have an actual smell? What about love?

Yeah, what about love? Can you ever really love someone? Even after you’ve been betrayed? Even after you look back and see all the times that your lover/spouse has most likely been unfaithful?

Is it fair to ask someone to change when you don’t want to change yourself?

Can I die from lack of sleep? Or will I just have a psychotic break? Will I know when that happens? Or, is it really subtle like those stupid Magic Eye books that never seem to work for me anyway?

Am I too effeminate because I want someone to hold me and stroke my hair and tell me that she loves me? Or that I just want someone who trusts me enough to tell me the truth and then fall asleep with her head on my chest? And, is it weird that I want that more than actual sex?

Is it really that late? Right. I’m going to go lay down and try to sleep now. I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

I started to write a very moving entry.
My mother told me, not too long ago, that I’ve always felt everything more deeply than everyone else. Of course, she meant everyone else in our family, but, she has a point. Mom always seems to know, much as I wish she didn’t.
Anyway, I was going to wax semi-poetic about tradgedy and loss in my life, but, really, who wants to read about that? Even I get tired of hearing myself complain about the little inconveniences that crop up from time to time. The complaints don’t help and just become an irritant, so I won’t bother. I will give you the quote that led me to that place, though. It’s a good one by one of my favorite authors of old.

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.”
–Ernest Hemingway

In the end, I haven’t lost anything, since I never really had it at all. I was just borrowing it, at best. Now, the lease is up and I don’t have the balloon payment, so that’s gone back to the dealer. (And, no, I haven’t lost my car, I’m speaking metaphorically.)
I guess all I have to hold onto when I do this to myself is a little bit of thin, angry hope inspired by another quote that I discovered long before Hemingway.

“That which does not kill us makes us stronger.”
–Friedrich Nietzsche

So, screw it. I’m going to the movies. Have a great weekend all.

Hey, it’s not too late to get this for Christmas!
Last week, I was talking about a little “hair of the dog”, so it seems like an appropriate time to mention the coolest stuffed toy I have seen in a long time: The Transforming Werewolf Plush. I mean, a toy that turns inside-out and makes a whole other toy?! They didn’t have stuff this cool when I was a kid! This rates right up there with the Cthulhu Plush Slippers and the Cthulhu Claus as my “most lusted after, but totally senseless, gift item”. Another new favorite, is the Giant Tube of Plush Polyhedron Dice, but that’s not as cool as the werewolf. Ah, now, if only I had someone to buy them for me…
Oh, well, maybe I’ll get them for myself next year!