http://www.invertible.net/blog/ Because anything can matter if enough people hear about it. en-us invertible@gmail.com http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=56 I've seen a lot of scared, confused, and above all annoying tourists around the city lately. As a guest of our fine metropolitan, you should feel welcomed and well-treated, unless you're getting in our way, at which point you should leave for your own safety. To prevent problems in the future, I've cobbled together a quick guide for moving around the city. Walking Don't stop moving... http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=55 My aunt's girlfriend asked me recently, "I've heard that everybody has one person who changes their life. Who do you think that person is for you?" Because I'd been drinking, I launched into a nihilist diatribe about unpredictability. I don't remember it, but this is my attempt to unravel what I think I said. People want a narrative in their life... Preachy Optimistic http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=54 Editor's Note: I'm misrepresenting myself here, because this essay clearly demonstrates that I do not have an editor. I toyed with the idea of fixing all the errors below, but in the spirit of the essay and for the sake of laziness, I'm going to leave them all in. So, yes, I know it's a debacle. As usual, address your concerns to noreallyidocare... http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=53 So, to begin with a disclosure: I was once worshipped. Not by anybody I still keep in touch with, but it happened. Not as a god, sadly. No virgins brought to my doorstep, no 10% out of pocket at my temples... http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=52 I got this scrap of wisdom when I was eighteen. It was from a friend who copped a lot of free wisdom from being smart and having a father who painted for a living on his artists' retreat farm that he built after kicking heroin. When sons of such fathers talk, it's worth listening. Not that it did us any good at eighteen... Preachy Optimistic http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=51 I refuse to allow anyone to shoot video of me unless I'm the editor. Not many people know this because I'm neither attractive nor talented enough to have people chase me with video cameras more than once every 14 years (my age, to date, divided by two), and when the issue comes up, people assume I'm camera shy or had a bad experience. For the record, I've done things on camera that are illegal in forty-eight states, not counting drugs, so camera shy isn't the problem. Since I never intend to run for office and I've already admitted to far more fabulous crimes–that I didn't commit but that the Bangor police still think I did–during my summer retreat in a nuthouse, these videos could all go up on youtube tomorrow without tremendously affecting my lifestyle, except for two... http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=50 Most people reading this title would immediately assume this is about some horrible thing someone did because they didn't stop and consider the consequences of their actions. That's half right, the person was me, and we'll get to that. But the actual title is the marketing tag line for a program I installed on my computer a couple of months ago. This program does a lot of neat things, mostly involving letting you find programs and files more quickly without having to use your mouse... http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=49 I want less morality in the government. Less. I don't make this statement that often because I have trouble avoiding the temptation of just saying it outright for pure shock value, and saying it outright leads to instant backlash from people already shocked at the apparent immorality of our government. But the problem is not immorality per se, but that the government's morality doesn't agree with mine, or most of my friends... Beligerent http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=48 Sitting on the train from Philadelphia to Penn Station, I'm still inextricably hung up on a thought that's been with me since I stepped off the train running the other way: how little I remember of my childhood home. I don't actually have a childhood hone the way many people do. I moved too many times, and can't ever answer the question "where did you grow up?" in less than five minutes and, if possible, a thoughtful swig of beer with which to sort out the list of subrubs, cities, and backwaters I remember dimly if at all. When asked where I was born, I say San Francisco, because it took much less time to do than growing up, and Bell Atlantic didn't have time to transfer my father's job while I was working through it... Angsty http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=47 (Okay, it's still reposting old stuff. Shoot me. You probably haven't read it, and I'm just uninspired and overworked. You should be grateful for even this effort... http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=46 Tonight, despite fabulous weather, I find myself resenting three things in life. The first is that I really don't have time to write this; I need to shower and shave and get back to a busy work day tomorrow. The second is that I can't, in good conscious, relate verbatim the user feedback I've been reading at work. Finally, I hate Mensa... http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=45 (Note: see other notes. I probably shouldn't blow all these at once, so people can think I'm actually producing new work. This is from when I was teaching.) After my last class of the season, I remembered we're all going to die... http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=44 (Note: as keeping with the prior note, this essay is from a while ago.) I try to keep my information freely available online, to reduce my stalkability. Yes, reduce. I was astonished today to find that if google "invertible", my website, invertible... http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=43 (Note: due to the last few days of digging up old passwords and finding old writing on other sites I kind of liked, I'm porting stuff over here just to have it all in one place. So if you've read this before, sorry. I didn't realize I was going to live so long I'd have to get organized.) So it was in Northhampton that I was finally hit by a kamakazi sparrow... http://www.stilldrinking.org/?which=42 Ah, porn. Let's say it together. Porn. Porn porn porn... Optimistic