Tag: memories
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My occasional history with film
I’m still thinking about film a lot, maybe too much. I’ve ended up buying two 35mm cameras on eBay this week, a Canonet QL17 rangefinder and an Olympus Trip 35 point/shoot. I ran the first roll of film through the Trip (see attached picture) and I love it. I need to take more pictures, figure…
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Mission
There is a level in Modern Warfare 3 called “Mission” and everybody seems to love it, because every time I’m playing and “Mission” and any other level other than “Terminal” or “Dome” comes up, everyone votes for “Mission.” (“Dome” is one of those tiny levels where everyone shoots everyone and the maximum score limit is…
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The Evil Pink Mistress
Trying to shake a benadryl hangover, the evil pink mistress clogging every mental channel in my head with dizziness, apathy, and the dark grey dread and doubt and apathy that logjams any serious attempts at life. I remember waking at two or three, after the cursed recurring dream of being back in high school again,…
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What happened to hypercard?
Hypercard was released 25 damn years ago. Has it been that long? Back in college, I spent a lot of time screwing around on the Mac, and there were certain programs that welded that old-school 68K Classic Mac experience in my mind. One of them was Aldus PageMaker, which was the desktop publishing program of…
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Things I Found In Storage Today
When I moved to Oakland in 2009, I rented a storage locker in this old warehouse that always reminds me of that scene at the end of Indiana Jones, and has the smell of a place where the Ark of the Covenant is probably packed away and forgotten. I’d been shuffling around boxes of stuff…
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Happy 15th Birthday, Wrath of Kon
Back on April 11, 1997, I had a stupid idea. I used to write in these journals, spiral notebooks, every day. I started doing that in 1993. I never wrote stories, and it wasn’t a diary either – it was some strange mix of both. But any writing I did there was trapped forever on…
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The Cult of Keyboards
As I approach the end of my 40th year, my body is falling apart. Okay, that may be an over-exaggeration, but every morning, it feels like another piece has been overextended or abused or mutilated, from the various discs in my back to the muscles and joints in my shoulders or arms or knees or…
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A Hundred Years From That One Rush Album
I guess I haven’t written in here yet in 2012. Oops. I’ve been busy working on getting a new book released, another collection of short stories and flash, and that’s about done. But it’s been hard to get started on something new, and I really need to. Part of this is that I’m trying to…
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You Can Never Go Back
I am home. My last ten days: Oakland to Chicago to South Bend to North Liberty to South Bend to New Buffalo to South Bend to North Liberty to Elkhart to South Bend to Indianapolis to Bloomington to South Bend to Elkhart to South Bend to Elkhart to South Bend to Milwaukee to Chicago to…
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The gaps of summer
I find myself thinking about Summer Rain a lot lately, which is ultimately dangerous, I think. Next year will be 20 years since the Bloomington summer I fictionalized, and ten years since I actually last set foot in the college town. I think about the book because it’s a default way of writing for me,…