Thursday, March 27, 2008

commute liveblog

So I liveblogged my commute today on the Metrobus/Metrorail via twitter. Why? I have no idea, I was 90% asleep the entire time.

Twitter is actually kind of a poor way of doing this as it requires people to a) be actively following your twitterstream and b) read backwards. Also I can't correct typos and the iPhone is a bit of a pain to actually type, especially while in motion.

So with that in mind I decided to reprint it here. The only changes are fixing a few spelling errors, as much as I want to expand on the statements. Enjoy, if you must.




- "My bus" is inaccurate, as it's anyone's with 1.50$ & I ride a different one everyday. Still, I missed it.
- It came late; I felt a dime slip from my fingers into the grass as I got on, leaving me short for a transfer
- Two old men are arguing in Spanish, their voices cartoonishly raspy. The bus smells like metro transit.
- Glints in the safety glass look like snowflakes when the sun hits them. One of the old men is wearing grey wranglers
- As I get off I realize I had a nickel but not a dime in the Crown Royal bag I keep my tokens in. So close. I use another token.
- There's construction on a parking lot at UM for the umpteenth time and the tractor sounds like slate being dragged across diamondplate
- Metrorail platforms are the dullest place on earth. I am criminally early and feel a little ill.
- Seriously there is something wrong with that machine that WD40 will not fix, shut it off already!
- Through the trees i can see "rock power" written on the orange beast's neck. I'd argue the power is waning.
- Stand back from the platform edge
- 10 years ago I used to ride the metro to a summer program at Mast. Relieving, somehow, that it smells the same
- More than 10; I'm twice as old now as I was then. Odd to think about. Math makes easy comparisons.
- New cars new buildings but the same old streets move past
- Doppelgänger leaning against the plexiglass directly across from me in the right doorway. Differences: iPod nano, wedding band, hairline
- Past the ironically neighbored jenny craig / dunkin donuts on Dixie. Stomach still hurts.
- Cars fall behind, pass, catch up. They should just throw a rope to the train and hitch a ride, although it'd decapitate the trees
- Sad planetarium.
- Dip to ground level and come back up into rickell. Trees at eyelevel disorienting. Then shadow.
- Is it nice to live in a condo that stares straight into a Metrorail platform? I can't imagine so
- When I left last Friday there were chickens scratching the dirt outside the station. None today.
- The southbound train arrives just as I'm leaving. Briefly I ponder getting on it. Head isn't here right now.
- I hear paper being torn above my head ad I walk. Or possibly it's masking tape.
- Shadows made of concrete. Token trees. The streets are filled with sand.
- Pain turns into hunger. A brick oven pizza place is getting a pickup truck full of wood delivered
- Fake plants interposed with real ones. Bricks. A dead oak in a planter box.
- Out of Brickell's answer to Cocowalk and onto 8th st (notable feature: a BK)
- The condos line up like Spartans. A marching skyline.
- Discarded food, recognizable and unrecognizable, always line this underdeveloped section of 8th
- Just missed an elevator going up. Sensing a theme.
- Work sweet work. This ends my incredibly boring liveblog.





Ok so maybe it wasn't that boring, but subject-wise it certainly wasn't the most exciting thing to issue moment-to-moment updates about.

edit: Alesh from Critical Miami was following me on Twitter for about a day before (I presume) the above flood of twits drove him off? I find this funny somehow.

edit2: Yay! Added back!

I'll have an Old Chub

Whenever I get a hankering for something that tastes like licking the sweaty kilt of a proud Scottish highlander, I reach for a tall cool can of Old Chub.
http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=922445473198028434&postID=7428961404144056321
Mmmmmmm (see blog post)

Mmm. Old Chub ...
(Suggested slogans to immediately follow:)
- That's me!
- Cures what ails ya! ... and probably creates a few other problems while it's at it
- Chub means fish ... we think. So we called our beer "Old fish"
- Goes great with haggis
- Black as midnight, cold as your ex wife
- It's also a verb
- (5 full minutes of unintelligible drunken cursing)

In all seriousness though, I love this beer. Titanic had it for a while and it was my sole reason for stopping by. It replaced the aching hole in my heart that the Seasonal Saison had left.

But now, no longer. Thus imagine my delight when I found a sixer of cans at Whole Foods.

And CANS! I can't remember the last time I bought beer in cans, much less tasty (and strong) beer in a can.

In case you were wondering, yes I am something of a beer snob. You know you're a beer snob when suddenly Guinness doesn't have enough taste for you.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Arthur C. Clarke

Three things mildly irk me:
One, expressions of surprise over the death of elderly and largely inactive celebrities.
Two, shallow discussions of recently deceased celebrities on blogs.
Three, lists of things that annoy a blogger.

While we're at it, let's go ahead and make it two for three.

Arthur C. Clarke was my introduction to science fiction, although not through 2001 or some of his better known books. I read Hammer of God when I was 12, very near to it originally coming out and immediately before picking up William Gibson's Neuromancer. I liked the book but fell more quickly in love with Gibson's gritty dystopia, which for a young man just entering his teen years is unsurprising.

At the time I wasn't aware that Clarke had lived through a time when science fiction grew out of the realm of fantasy and into thought experiment, and that his contributions to the world of science in some ways outweighed those to literature. It wasn't until college that I read Childhood's End and 2001 and realized how thought provoking a well written work of sci fi can be.

I count him among one of the authors who have had the most influence on my life. He will be sorely missed.