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contours provocations
journal - 2001-0517 - thu 2100 (Fill in with appropriate but brief description.) What was the day like? Tiresome. One in which I felt overwhelmed. Too much and too many stimuli. And small things wind up becoming mildly irritating. What little communication I attempted seemed to fall on deaf ears. (That first came out "deft" ears, then "dear" ears.) I rarely comment on work, save in the most general terms, for any number of reasons. Several months ago, a project was initiated that is really very simple to do. But it has become amazingly convoluted. Post something and ten nanoseconds later, somebody wants to change it. Fifty nanoseconds later, somebody sees it and wants something else. And it's all because people want their 15-minutes of web fame. This morning, I woke up at 4 am to the cacophony of feline keening. After plopping a dollop in each bowl, I lurched into the living room, slumped onto the couch, clicked on the tv, and watched ten minutes or so of "Doctor Who." The "Genesis of the Daleks." Many a year has it been since I first saw that one. I went back to bed and grudginly got up at 7:30. My first big decision was deciding what I wanted to listen to on the way to work. My first thought was Radiohead's "OK Computer." But I waffled and plucked "The Doors" from its bin. A winner either way I thought. (Great line in the latest "Rolling Stone" describing Yorke's voice: "bruised-angel warble.") This evening, a friend and I had dinner. And discussed early TV, an interest both of us share. The period when the medium was new, and the options were many. I made a comment about my curiosity with pre-network tv, prior to 1948, in which there were only a few stations. Yet, it produced the first example of the most durable of programs - the soap opera. "Faraway Hill" ran for 12 weeks on the DuMont Network, which most people have never heard of, in the fall of 1946. PAX!
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