Well, it's not so much that I've got nothin' as that...well, yeah. It's so much that I've got nothin'. Really. Nothin'. I'm looking through my links and it's all just David Foster Wallace crap, which you're better off just skimming through yourself at my del.icio.us DavidFosterWallace tag, rather than having me just post links to stuff and be like, "Hey, here's some more David Foster Wallace crap, as if you really want to follow me any farther down that dark road".
Beyond that, though, the old concentration circuits are shot right now. Like here it is, once again well past the time I meant to go to bed, and I'm all like, "Hey, maybe I'll rearrange my furniture", except thankfully I get distracted by something else before I start--and subsequently stop mid-stride--anything time-consuming that's likely to leave my apartment more awkwardly disorganized than it already is. I actually put down a book tonight, and I don't think I'm picking it back up, and I feel bad about it because it's really quite a decent book, it's just...every two pages I'm off looking for coins to sort into piles, because for some reason that will just seem more interesting at the time. That or like, something else. None of which "other things" actually happen because I wind up instead clicking around on Flickr which I think I've decided is basically the Platonic ideal form of timesuck; it's like Orkut and Myspace and Friendster and whatever else you kids use, but it's got pretty pictures and for some reason I've decided it's my new life's goal, this week, to become friends with everybody on it. I'm sure I'll forget about that goal soon enough though. I mean earlier tonight I was working on a short story and then the next thing I knew I was Swiffering the damned kitchen floor. There was no transition. It's like my life has become a Fiery Furnaces song or something. Which is weird since I've actually been doing most of this tonight to the sounds of Godspeed You Black Emperor for the last like four hours so you can understand maybe the kind of apocalyptic scatter-brained mind-stance I've been standing in, if you know the band, at least.
Anyway I'm mostly hoping this is a temporary condition, a passing phase, and that pretty soon I'll be back to talking about things that interest me without paying any attention to the fact that, like, the world's on the Internet, now. I mean I saw that AT&T Blogging billboard recently and I nearly drove off the road under the sheer weight of the absurdity of it. If I could go back in time and tell 13 year old me that, like, there would be obscenely large corporations trying to profit off the stuff I was at the time doing with my Commodore 64--namely, communicating with other human beings--I would have...well I would have been really fucking creeped out, because, you know, Future Me? Dude gained weight. And grew his hair out. Future Me is weird, says 13 year old me.
Uhm. Oh, speaking of Commodore 64s, if you were a fan, then this will blow your brain out. Maybe that's where all my problems came from? Maybe I made the joke one too many times and it was bound to actually happen--that eventually my brain would literally get blown out. Weeeeird.
And on that we'll close with a dimly related question. George Nemeth at BrewedFreshDaily wonders what the theme song of your blog would be. Me, I'm totally stumped as to what the theme for TDAOC would be. For a bit today I was thinking it would be "Whatever Happened to Soy Bomb" off the Eels' latest album, but then I realized, no, that's got nothing to do with the blog, that's got everything to do with the fact that I've spent at least an hour a day for the last seven weeks humming the song in my head. Yeah. I've got a bitchin' mental-remix of it and Prefuse 73's "Choking You" going on, that, ah, if only I could plug my brain in to the USB port and let it see the light of day. Ah. Yes.
So let's hear it. What's my theme song? What's your theme song? And, if you've got any ways to, like, fix a brain, let me know about that, too. Do they make Concentration Duct Tape?
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