There is thunder in our hearts

7 06 2012

Saw that printed on a tote bag the other day: there is thunder in our hearts.

My first thought: Cool, in sturm-und-drag kinda way. (And yeah, okay, cool and sturm-und-drag don’t really go together, but you get what I mean, right?)

Second thought: I know that line, I’ve heard it somewhere.

Poem? Speech? Hmm. No. Song lyric.

Thunder. Thunder thunder thunder. Springsteen coulda written this, but no, that ain’t Springsteen.

I kept repeating the lyric, trying to call up the sound. No dice.

Then, this morning, the sound came. There is THUNder in our haahrts.

I know that, I thought, I know I know it. But from where?

Why not just run on a search on the lyric—easy-peezy, you’ll get the answer.

I did not want to run the search. I wanted to remember.

I then thought of asking a co-worker if she could remember, which seems like cheating but it’s not: I wanted SOMEone to remember, someone to have this info in her noggin and be able to pull it out.

But then I didn’t ask, because I wanted to be the someone who remembered.

And then I went back to work and the melody went underground and then, and then, it bubbled up.

Kate Bush! Yes!

Running up that hill! Yes!

There is thunder in our haah-ahrts/. . . /You and meeEEEEeee/ . . . / I’d make a deal with God/And get him to swap our places.

I was going to write a whole bit about how I want to be able to recall things that can be looked up, that maybe exercising this recall is like exercising one’s body (e.g., even if pushing around weights isn’t useful in and of itself, that I push around weights equips me to do other, useful, things); alternatively, that while there may be a good to being able to free one’s mind of trivialities in order to create room for more important matters, the process of amassing and sorting and remembering those trivialities may be—quite unlike pushing around weights—pleasurable in and of themselves; and, finally, that it used to be really super important for me to memorize song lyrics and be able to recite them on command and that while I no longer go out of my way to do so I still sometimes wish I went out of my way to do so and thus when I can remember a song lyric I’m raptured up shoeless to a place when a song could fill my whole heart. With thunder.

But then I decided not to write about all of that, and instead note that I was oddly giddy for having remembered, a giddiness which may have been due to having Kate Bush in my head for the day.

She can be trouble, but she’s my kind of trouble.





I am an idiot

3 12 2009

Not the first time I’ve said this, nor will it be the last, but, yes, today, I am an idiot.

I finally got around to hooking up the external monitor. Power cord, HDMI, connect, monitor on, computer on: BINGO!

Then these various display options flicked onscreen. Hmm. What to do with these?

Dunno. Nothing—for now.

Then another set of options, regarding the two screens. The external monitor mirrored all that was happening on the laptop. But wait, was there something about creating options for what appears on the different screen? Do I want to see what that’s about?

Sure, why not?

Wrong answer. The correct answer should have been: No. No, I do not.

Curiosity killed the external monitor.

It went black, and nothing I did could fix this. Click here and there and here and there. Nothing.

System restore.

Fail.

System restore again.

Fail again.

System restore again.

No difference.

Windows is no help. The Acer manual is no help. Check online. These folks want payment, these folks haven’t a clue.

Ah, found a site.

Try this, and then this.

Okay.

Works! It works!

Kinda.

A few more buttons. . . et voila! It’s back to where it was in the beginning.

Excellent. Now, let me just shift my laptop. . .

Oh, fuck. Black screen.

I spent 3 hours fucking with this thing, and now it appears that the problem is with the HDMI cable.

I am an idiot.

*Update*

Okay, got the screen back. Looks like a combo of tetchy cable and resetting the thingamajig in the whatchamacallit.

I am now only touching my glass of wine and the mouse.

I know: I’m still an idiot.





Do the right thing

14 02 2009

Cable companies suck.

I’ve been piggybacking on a coupla’ unsecured local wireless accounts, but know this has to end. One, I’m freeloading, and two, it’s not all that reliable. (And for the record, the first matters more than the second. Really.)

So I went to the local CableConglomerate website to find out how much a cable/wireless connection would cost. I dinked around on their site, checked out various packages, and, in the end, decided that all I want is a cable modem and service.

I have no idea how much it’ll cost.

Oh, I could do the Triple-Play and get Phone! Cable! and Internet! for the low low price of just $29.95* per month per service!

Do not want. I kicked the regular t.v. habit while living in my last apartment. It wasn’t totally voluntary—I didn’t have a t.v. in my room, and my roommate didn’t want me to put my t.v. in the common living space—but I don’t really miss it. Yeah, it was nice to veg out and watch the umpteenth episode of Law & Order or CSI (either the original or CSI:New York, but not Miami. Miami sucked.), or take in the glories of bad movies like Independence Day, but, christ, amidst my various jobs I got no damned time to watch t.v.**

So, just the intertubes, please.  That’s it. No super basic (i.e., all the regular channels you’d get if your antenna were worth a damn) for 16 bucks a month, no HDTV, DVR, HBO or M-O-U-S-E. Just the fucking cable modem.

No price. I guess I find out when one of their circling predators salespeople contacts me to strongarm me into a cable package let me know the details.

Bastards.

*Not including all the other shit they charge you for. Like $0.24/month for the remote. Did you know they charge you a monthly rental for the remote? I did not, before today.

**I am seriously considering getting a super basic Netflix package and the hundred-buck Roku box, which would allow me to stream mediocre t.v. programs and movies—and some good stuff!—for about 10 bucks a month direct to me t.v. Stigmata on demand. Awesome.





Similar promises

19 09 2008

Okay, here’s a link to the Judith Thomson piece I mentioned earlier: http://spot.colorado.edu/~heathwoo/Phil160,Fall02/thomson.htm

I haven’t re-read the piece, but there it is. You could probably find it in other formats—the piece was originally published in 1971—simply by searching ‘Judith Jarvis Thomson’ or ‘A Defense of Abortion’. Anyway. Have at it.

The computer is now 4 days old, and I’m mostly happy with it. I did have to ditch my old WordPerfect software: too old. So I’ve downloaded a 30-day trial version of WPX4 (just released!) while waiting for the software to arrive.

I do feel like a bit of a hypocrite. I regularly opine that ‘brand loyalty is for suckers’, but here I am chasing after this software (and, for that matter, after a particular pair of Doc Martens, which I CANNOT find in my size) when Microsoft Word is snugly installed in my operating system. Why bother?

Well, I guess I’ll have to nuance my way past my snark. See, I really do think brand loyalty makes no sense: corporations don’t care about you, they care about money. If they can make money by creating things you want, fine. If they can make more money creating other things, that’s what they’ll do. This isn’t personal, ; this is capitalism. So the appropriate response to the self-interested behavior of corporations is one’s own self-interest: I will buy your product if it suits me, or another corporation’s product if it suits me better.

Thus, I ended up with my third Dell not because I’m wild about ‘Dell, The Brand!’, but because after a months-long search of reading reviews, checking out different computers’ websites, trekking to stores to test keyboards, and much to-ing and fro-ing about my finances and do-I-REALLY-need-this, I decided Dell suited me best. That had nothing to do with loyalty, and everything to do with my wants.

But WordPerfect, hmmm, I do have a soft spot for it. I started with it in grad school, when the computers in the pol sci computer lab still had the blue screens with the off-white text. I pirated a copy from that lab, then later bought my own upgrade. I like how it works, and what I can do with it. C. pointed out that a couple of the features I mentioned I like I could also get with Word, but it always seemed like more of a hassle.

Yeah, it’s an habitual preference (which, admittedly, may have a not-minor role in loyalty) as opposed to obvious WP superiority, but it’s not only that. I wrote my dissertation and two novels using WP, and NOT ONCE did it crash or lose my work. NEVER. And I was paranoid about losing work: chapters of my dissertation are scattered repeatedly across numerous floppy disks, and I bought an external hard drive years ago as a sop to my fear. But my trusty word processor hung on to my every word, and never booted me out of my thoughts with a pop-up stating ‘WP has encountered a difficulty and must close. We are sorry for the inconvenience.’

Unlike, say, Word. And WP never froze, unlike, say, Word.

So, based on track record, I’m a-goin’ with WP. And if it becomes as unreliable as its ubiquitous counterpart, I’ll look for another word processor.

Is that a kind of loyalty, or just extreme customer diligence? Pfft, maybe a bit of both. Maybe I am a sucker.





All blue

16 09 2008

Picked up the new computer today. After dicking around with Dell and DHL, I just went to the depot and picked up the damned thing myself.

So pretty. So blue. So so so much faster. I can actually watch YouTube clips now!

Now if I can just figure out how to activate the Filemaker and WordPerfect programs I copied from my external hard drive. I have the disks (christ, I THINK they’re cds and not old floppies), but I added various macroses (sp?) and am too lazy to repeat them.

Hm. I’ll figure this out. Hell, I managed to copy all my bookmarks from the first-best browser on the old machine (right before I uninstalled it) to the external hard drive and then to the Sleek Newcomer.

Then again, this sucker has Vista, so who knows what’ll happen.

Still. So pretty. So blue.





OK Computer

11 09 2008

Or not.

I was going to go with a couple of Poi Dog Pondering references (Tall & Building) for this post, but then—surprise!—the browser went poof. So Radiohead again.

I can go for about ten minutes before second-best browser (first-best browser was uninstalled, due to memory issues) ducks out back for a pack of cigarettes and never returns. Sometimes it says something like Hey, the application aljfd has failed before it waves itself away; other times it slinks silently into the night.

Oh yeah, this computer knows it’s about to be sent across the cyber sea (in its handsome computer briefcase!), unlikely ever to be recalled to duty, and is sabotaging itself with every bit of its being.

I respect that. Obnoxious, but I’m all in favor of the die-on-your-feet than live-on-your-knees ethos.

Still, no mercy. As soon as the new is in, old is out.

As for Tall/Building(s), I was walking with my friends and coworkers (Job3) around the Wall Street area, and mentioned that even though I knew New Yorkers (and I am one, now) were supposed to look down or straight ahead, I loved to look up.

How could I not, especially in the financial district, with all these magnificent old buildings erected by long-dead capitalist rotters? Fuck that, L. said. I look up all the time. Me too, said S. S. grew up on Long Island, and L.? I dunno, he could be a native New Yorker. Anyway, they didn’t care about the tourist-New Yorker distinction. And we all agreed that while we may not have liked what happened (or still happens) in these buildings, we’re glad that this area hasn’t been Times Squared.

So why not look up? There’s so much to see!

(And no, no lessons please. This is only meant literally.)





Anywayz (again)

8 09 2008

I swear to god my computer knows it’s going to be replaced.

After landing a third job, I decided it was okay—even though it’s really not, financially—for me finally to get a new computer. It should arrive in the next two weeks.

So my 8-year-old computer knows—it KNOWS!—that I used it to find its replacement. It rendered itself pretty much unusable for a couple of days, forcing me to uninstall a couple of programs, and now it’s been sending me ominous messages.

Yes, I’ve saved everything on an external hard drive. But I worry: will it co-opt the peripherals, too?

It’s going to be a long two weeks.