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Monthly Archives: June 2004

curiouser and curiouser  §

sometimes insight alone does not help you to know what you think
no matter how apropos and informative it seems to be

I am remembering the vicious midday sun in August during the summer of 2001. I have been everywhere since that day; I have done everything since that day. So why do I still remember it, and why is it so important to me? Maybe some things are not subject to the ever-so-pedestrian “ravages of time.”

I want to reach down and touch a hot road again.

I want to be alone in the desert again, and to feel myself alive; I won’t always have the chance.

Put On Your Tinfoil Hat
What to Iraqis Really Think?
The End of PBS
Wal-Mart Welfare

running on god-knows-what  §

I have been insanely productive today, and I will be yet more productive before the day is out. I don’t know exactly why, maybe I’m hypo. It doesn’t feel like it, though. But then I can’t really tell what I feel.

Working this hard when I should be moping is, to steal a Blixa formulation, strange to my nature. Yet I’m doing it. I am fighting my borderline tendencies with a violence and vehemence usually not acessible to me. I don’t know exactly what’s different today from yesterday, but something is definitely different.

I still don’t particularly like packing; it’s always sad. I need to own still fewer things and put down still fewer roots in places; then I will be correspondingly less sad.

If I never form attachments to anywhere or anyone or anything at all, I will never have to be sad again!

I want to kiss my girlfriend a lot before she goes on the road, but reality says I’ll probably only get to kiss her a little.

intermission  §

48 hours?

Not even that?

I think I begin to get numb. 🙁

When things are good, you never want them to change. But they do anyway. And once they do, you can never go back.

I want to leave Chicago. I’m itching to go. I don’t want to spend the extra seven days here, I really don’t.

Is fall a long way off?

Since Saturday morning, when on my own I have done little more than smoke cigarettes, swill booze, drink coffee, fidget with my camera, visit the same three or four Web sites over and over and over again, and read and respond to my email. I have been to the library umpteen times, but all I manage to do is 1) sleep and 2) stumble outside for another cigarette.

Not good. There is a lot of packing and shipping to be done, and there is a lot of paper writing to be done. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just a fscking lunatic who’s unable to control his mental apparatus, that’s what. I need to sort it. I wonder if I’ll ever grow up.

Somehow I doubt it.

Last night I recoded my photo indexer to handle Canon raw files in addition to standard JPEG images. Now I can properly index all of the Canon raw photos I’ve been shooting since I “exploited” my Muvo2 for its 4GB microdrive.

The combination of Canon raw and Photoshop’s ACR has me reconsidering the switch back to Olympus at times… With ACR, the camera really is like a whole new camera — much better results, in particular with regard to noise, metering, and white balance.

I haven’t heard from the professor I want to use as my advisor. This means that I will have to go to his office today to bother him. Last thing in the world I want to be bothered with… but I’m running out of time to get this paperwork submitted. Suck.

I suppose I should feel really apologetic for wanting to take up his time and for asking him for such a huge favor in the first place, but I don’t. This is grad school. We’re all here to work for ourselves, not for some higher goal like the brochures tell you.

I have run out of patience for this whole grad school thing.

One of the people in my department circulated an email about people who are hiring novice sailors to spend the summer on boats on lake Michigan (yes, getting paid). That would have been pretty damn cool. But oh well, I got tickets out of here and a publishing project to work on.

que sera sera

gonna go buy a bottle of water somewhere  §

I really wish it would rain.

For days and days now it rains, and tonight, when I want it to rain… nada.

I hate the fact that humans can’t predict the future. I’d easily pay six or seven bucks right now to know what I’ll be doing and feeling in a month, or even where on the fucking map I’ll be.

I am the world’s must useless adult, though I still make a decent kid.

Too bad I’m so fucking tall for a kid.

Tonight would be the perfect night to be pumping quarters into arcades or pinball machines. Where are the fucking arcades and pinball machines on this campus?!?!

I am sitting here camera geeking again. I’m almost ashamed to say it, but I’m totally turned on by the E-1 and really miss my E-10. Things just haven’t been the same with the Canon gear, some sort of magic is missing. I can’t wait to get back to SLC, pack the Canon shit into its original boxes (in storage), sell it all on eBay, and buy into the Olympus E system again.

Harmir and Optein have a lot of the same advice… Heh…

Ugh, Aqueous… Where are you?!

sometimes food is just not what you need  §

I wasn’t going to eat anything because I had this sense that food might not agree me today.

Unfortunately, my stomach got the better of me this evening.

As expected, I now feel quite ill, and my heart is racing.

I’m going to go to the fifth floor of the library to try to get some sleep for a change.

Cheerio.

wishing and hoping and wondering and missing  §

Decades from now, I wonder if someone will be asking me:

“What was she like, this dream girl of yours from so long ago that wouldn’t be tied down? Will you ever love me the way you so obviously loved her? If I left today, would you still think about me decades later? What would you do if she knocked on our door right now, after all these years, and wanted you back?”

And I will say:

“You don’t want the answers to any of those questions. Don’t ask them ever again.

And then I’ll grab a flask and a cigarette and go walking in the rain, alone.

Faith and denial both come in a bottle marked “Future”

I wonder which it is I’m drinking right now.

i will be a traitor  §

To the U.S. government: When “my number” comes up, I will flee the country. If I can’t make it out, I will refuse to “serve.” If you make me, I will go through training and then I will defect, or perhaps do something even more interesting than that; watch me and see how I “help” your godforsaken empire. I hate America and always have. You don’t want me as your soldier, though as a civilian I at least help to prop up your economy and expand your prestigious intellectual base.

Note to the military-industrial-imperial complex: You might be shocked to learn just how many “traitors” there are in my generation. Trying to bring back the draft may well be the best way to destroy the cesspool of economic exploitation that is America as you know it.

People Against the Draft
Draft Dilemma
The Draft Will Start in June 2005
Selective Service Eyes Women
New Draft Debate