2024-10-31-22:29:11-Thursday-9
~inquiry
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### 2024-10-31-22:29:11-Thursday-9

Well, blog within a post, end of day has arrived. My wife is
watching a TV show that's so typically predictable: the dialog, the
facial expressions, the well-timed background music.

Tiring. I've had enough of this world, of people, of expectations
and boundaries and everything having to fit expected patterns:
especially the one that keeps me from finding anyone to really let
loose with in an exploring-the-nature-of-reality sense.

Not on this planet. *Certainly* not online where words limit.

That doesn't mean typing isn't still fun.

And thank <deith>, 'cuz otherwise this would be utterly in vain.

### 2024-10-31-20:24:53-Thursday-8

We had but five trick-or-treat-ers, then went to daughter's house
for grandson's birthday. Fun. Great food. Degrees of tension due to
wife's ex being there. But like in that song from the 70s, we will
survive.

Hitting the bathroom at the moment. I do believe a glass of red is
awaiting me. Maybe catch up on some political humor - i.e.
anything/everything Kamala Harris says and/or does.

### 2024-10-31-15:59:36-Thursday-7

Is anyone else here getting excited about the slow steady approach
of reply number 10000?

### 2024-10-31-13:55:09-Thursday-6

Ponderings seem the drunk driving on the road of mind.

How does it happen?

Does it matter?

"Enjoy the show" seems the best approach.

Thoughts occur too fast for the "I" thought to grasp.

So well architected: impossible for grasping to grasp grasping,
i.e. itself.

Only by grace does the dream/nightmare oscillation cease as though
never was.

Oh, for there to be another to get it the same way, to exchange
words about it, to smile after a thorough analysis.

A fool and their self are not soon parted....

### 2024-10-31-13:30:28-Thursday-5

After a few days in the 80F's, weather in these parts shifted to
become a lot more in accord with Halloween: much wind to bring
leaves to the ground, a chill - but not debilitating - in the air,
autumn colors everywhere.

Candy is ready. A degree of costuming in accord with the youngest
grandchild's wishes acquired.

October 31 happens to be his birthday (3) as well.

Went on a bit of an "errands in preparation" journey with my wife
earlier. I usually decline such, but today online reality seemed
particularly boring. Tedious, even. I won't elaborate.

The only hitch was I'd been drinking copious quantities of water on
top of coffee to help flush the underpinnings of gout from my
veins/arteries, requiring three restroom visits along the way.

### 2024-10-31-13:05:13-Thursday-4

Human minds might be modeled as censoring/censorship machines, as
it's practically our operational essence: selectively taking in
information, and processing it in accord with past experience, with
current beliefs, and ultimately deciding whether to ponder it based
on all that. Some of the information doesn't make that cut. One
might say that, in that case, one has censored information from
oneself.

Given that, isn't uproar over censorship more than a little
humorously ridiculous?

### 2024-10-31-08:16:35-Thursday-3

It hardly matters what people say anymore.

I focus on how they seem when presenting themselves and, should
there be sufficient information derived solely from observing them
behave of time, their ongoing, consistent character.

I keep finding that whereas people claiming to "be" conservative
generally seem decent and trustworthy, people who claim to be "be"
liberal are either hysterical, troubled, confused about who they
are, quick to anger, and seemingly under the impression that
reciting what others who call themselves liberal say - often
verbatim - proves (you can literally see the pride in their face)
they're a moral and intellectual giant looking down from above,
clearly astonished to have discovered and/or distilled Truths that
are more often than not it's merely pathetic drivel, if not utterly
disconnected from the reality I know, but repeated frequently
enough to have become deep and abiding Truth to them.

The funniest part of their pride from my point of view is that
"Truth" can't be put into words - indeed, attempting to do so is
necessarily an act of avoiding it by looking everywhere except
where it lies: behind the within.

### 2024-10-31-07:27:37-Thursday-2

The previous entry is a good example of having run out of things to
say, yet attempting to say something anyway.

I suspect this entry won't disappoint along those lines either.

Thing is, it's rare to never that an individual is ever much
fascinated by anyone other than themselves unless they're
interested in having sex with them. That transforms another person
to the most amazing thing, incomprehensibly interesting, a
testament to how all other people should be, etc., etc.

I honestly don't feel that, much, anymore.

There might be edge cases, though.

For example, when encountering the writing of someone else who
stated something about a topic of interest in a way that one wishes
one had thought of stating it themselves. Maybe that could be
called post/paragraph/sentence/phrase envy - depending on the size
of the text involved?

That happened to me yesterday.

I chanced upon a blog entry that utterly blew me away. And so I
wanted to believe very badly that such a work of textural meaning
art was commonplace for them, that I'd found someone I wanted to
"follow" such that I didn't miss so much as a word they put forth.

You know what I'm saying?

But then I made the mistake of digging more deeply at other of
their offerings.

It was soon clear the offering that seemingly changed my life
forever was an aberration.

Oh, the sorrowful disappointment!

Multiply that by at least a million, and you've my
several-decades-long-yet-somehow-still-going online experience.

### 2024-10-31-06:37:29-Thursday-1

```
I'm loving this rainy day. Can't
see much of it yet for being too
early/dark. But the neighbor on the
other side of the backyard has a
backyard light whose rays simmer off
the wet pool cover, the landings of
droplets visible in that wondrously
random way.

Reminds me of how, yesterday during
almost sunset, the shadow of a pickup
truck we were driving behind was cast
on the trees on the edge of a forest
to our right, giving the illusion of
something objective whose shape was
changing rather quickly.

Not much happening at sites my
recently-created monitor scripts
hover over.

One reported a change in some replies
at Midnight Pub. Not sure what the
change was, as the parent post is a
few weeks old. All I can imagine is
they *seemed* to change *possibly*
due to the title of the parent post
changing. But, then, no change to the
parent was reported. But that makes
no sense because it's title is merely
'~'... which maybe had been '-'? But,
then, that author has many posts with
that title... or did they forget to
change just one from '-' to '~'? Again,
the script should have reported the
change to that post if its children
replies were report. Weird. Must be
some error situation the script isn't
handling. All it does is keep a copy of
the output of a scraping script that
returns all post and reply URLs on
the front page, then runs that scraper
again, diff's the two, then examines
the differences.

I'd have to keep running copies of the
files being diff'd to possible figure
out what's going on, but that would
be keeping quite bit given the script
awakens to do its thing every minute.

Anyway, yeah, super boring entry. This
posting thing is once again feeling
like reaching for fulfillment from the
heart of ennui. I've nothing to add to
conversations that anyone other that
I could possibly understand given the
reality of how meaning is assigned
to words in what we call/consider
separate minds.

For the briefest of kicks shall I now
pass this entry through "fmt -40",
then my own "center" script, surround
it what it takes to force "pre" tag
enclosure, and let 'er fly....
```