It just occurs to me now that Adele would've been the perfect soundtrack for my life from late September 1995 up until very late September 2014.

So by now everyone knows what the noun "bling" means.

Everything that doesn't kill you outright will eventually give you cancer. That's just life.

I dreamt that ﾐA彡 and I lived in post-apocalyptic Southern California after the sea level had risen 60 meters after catastrophic melting of the ice caps. The U.S. had collapsed, California was (once again) it's own sovereign state, and the center of global power had moved to China and to South America.

It has been about six months since the last time I had to give The Talk™. It’s not something I’m particularly good at, although I’m better than I used to be. In the end, it’s about getting to the point: your loved one is dying, and everything we’re doing to her/him is only prolonging suffering. Will you give us permission to stop these things, and focus on making her/him comfortable?

I don’t know why, but suddenly I had the urge to try yet another blog engine, even though I haven’t really hacked into SimpleLog’s internals and given customization a chance, which was the whole point of using it.

x86 machines have been traditionally much cheaper than their Mac counterparts, but things have improved a lot lately. Still, a Macbook Pro supposedly costs as much as two similarly spec’ed Dells. Naturally, the author ignores certain things (which he at least acknowledges): built-in iSight, bundled software, faster RAM.

What brings out the devil in you?

Man, Lee Smolin, theoretical physicist to the nth degree, is my hero. The first I had heard of him was his book Three Roads to Quantum Gravity, a discussion of the possible unification of quantum mechanics and general relativity, which covers string theory and loop quantum gravity. I also noted his name in João Magueijo’s book Faster than the Speed of Light.

Tell me, how many of you are Consumating from work, and how do you get anything else done?

it's kind of creepy if i think too hard about it. but what is there really to do when you're trapped in the bowels of a hospital at 3 in the morning, with naught but an internet connection to keep you company?

I made it back to L.A. yesterday, after a mostly uneventful trip through the Central Valley, despite my surprising lack of bladder control (I will speak no more of this.) Along the way, I noticed fire trucks from various sections of Northern California—Palo Alto, Fairfield, Vacaville, Monterey, to name a few—heading down the I-5, and getting off at California 58, most likely on their way to provide backup for those fighting the incredible blaze in the San Bernardino Mountains, which eventually cut off the I-15 running through the Cajon Pass.

You know who you are. If only I had the strength to pull the arrow out of my heart.

I am so tired. There were things I would like to scrawl down. If only it were possible to write while driving.