July 2007 Archives

Seriously. Without the internet, this kid would just be some random granola-eating, Oregon hippie douchebag listening to Phish stoned out of his mind^* in 15 years.

^{*I fucking know not all people hailing from Oregon are granola eating hippies, but it's funnier if I reduce the lot of them to stereotypes They all eat granole and use Tom's of Maine and everyone here in California is gayer than a gymnast on shore leave. (All previous links NSFW!)}

Dear Internet,

I wish it to be known that I am one of the 3,582 living adults capable of bearing the title "Functional and Contributing Member of Society at Large Due in No Small Part to Self-Actualization." This number excludes persons under the age of 21 as well as those above the age of 21 incapable of caring for themselves without reasonable assistance.

My reasons for this are many and varied. Contact me privately should you need an explicit example. However, it stands to reason that most of you know this already. You also know if you, too, bear that title.

Those of you who believe me to be cocky or self-involved, answer me this: why do you call me names when it's glaringly obvious to everyone else you just want to be like me?

That is all.

Sincerely,
Matt

There are so very many things in life that I feel I will never understand, and I don't know if this is something that should comfort or distress me.

It has been a very long time since I wrote last. By choice, I am a software engineer. My daily life consisting of observing the world, the people in it, and then breaking down into simple, easily understood steps, the actions I've witnessed. While it is a tedious and, sometimes, excruciatingly boring process, I love it. At times, though, it taxes my creativity and urge to write and I am often the subject of lingering bouts of writer's block (if I could be called a writer). Then, without warning, some muse strikes me and the impetus to write is there.

I revisited the site Sutro Baths earlier today. I hadn't been in some time. Not since my article had been published in the online magazine Lost. As I walked around and took yet another roll of photos of the ruins I'd accidentally discovered and chronicled, I found myself asking the question posed in the article I'd written: does mystery remain when ruins are assigned a history?

The very obvious and literal answer is no. By definition, you cannot have both understanding and mystery tied to the same thing. Beyond that, though, does a person or place or event hold the same mystical wonder when we understand it from all angles? When I first found the Sutro Baths and in the several trips I made back in the months following, I was always filled with the same sense of wonder. Sure, someone had to know what had happened here, but the excitement lay in my not knowing. The draw was that I was free to make any associations I wanted. In writing that article I destroyed the magic that brought me there. There's no wonder left because I know too much about what happened there.

Today on that rocky beach at Land's End I didn't see rusting iron bones, there weren't remnants of panes that once protected swimmers from the icy chill of the Pacific wind, and I didn't wonder what drilled an oddly circular hole through over 50 feet of rock. There was only simple plumbing, long since left to nature's whim. Scattered shards of old beer bottles from kids drinking in the relative secrecy of public park not patrolled by police. And only a hole blasted into a rock with dynamite.

There are a great many things in life I will never understand. Some of the may cause me distress and some of them may comfort me. I only hope that I have the presence of mind and wisdom to recognize which is which.