solo silo
this blog’s become an abandoned farmhouse on the side of a barely-paved county road that slices across plains between backwater towns yet hammocks lazily between redwoods of civilization.
who am i to disprove entropy?
i’m not one to toss around the phrase “crash and burn” lightly, especially when it’s entirely inapplicable to the situation, of which this is an ideal example, given its proximity. to crash and burn a machine (or idea) must have adequate momentum, or if the machine is a plane and/or the idea is a lofty one, must have had momentum enough to launch it to its height to begin with.
no such luck here. but it’s good that this soapbox racer has a rollbar – otherwise i might have been mightily injured when i sputtered feebly into the nerf wall known as “having other, better, more fulfilling things to do than to wait fifteen minutes for my still and even more ancient laptop to load.”
be not fooled – watching tv is an activity – tvs in empty rooms don’t watch themselves.
genius is one percent inspiration and 99 percent giving up after what you try fails.
and so what!
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