On one hand, telling people to just "suck it up" and to simply endure unrelenting injustice while doing absolutely nothing to ameliorate conditions merely telegraphs your privilege.

So when I was a teenager and in my twenties, I used to be really into "Best of" lists and countdowns and reflecting on the last 365 days and all that crap, but lately, I just don't give a crap.

Truth be told, I'm just trying to figure out something to write before this year and this decade come to a close. The last time I logged into this blog, it was still the height of summer, although fire season was at hand. It's easy to lose track of time in this land of no seasons. In Southern California, not very many leaves turn color in the fall, and the first snow falls only on the mountain tops.

The crux of the eternal static versus dynamic typing debate is just how much are you willing to let the computer (or more accurately, the language implementers) decide what you mean. Those who favor static typing tend to favor explicit direction over implicit intuitive understanding, and strictly-defined categories and hierarchies rather than free-for-all tag webs and interconnections. The static typist immediately recognizes that the computer (specifically, the compiler or the interpreter) is a non-intelligent entity that must be told exactly what to do, or else you're liable to saw your own foot off. The dynamic typist, while not delusional about just how intelligent the computer is, is willing to have a little more faith in the language implementers, believing that they will do the Right Thing™ with the input that is fed to them.

In six months, my plan for the future will officially run out.

I dig this quote:

I don’t know if it’s just the anhedonia, or if things have just become increasingly meaningless lately. So it’s 2007, and the new year doesn’t really feel all that new.

Just wanted to post on the last day of 2003. Suffice it to say that it is a bad idea to try to cut your Zoloft dose by 50 mg when scarcely half a year has passed since you started taking it.

Time marches on.

I am sad, sad, sad, and maybe it's the SAD bearing down on me, or maybe it's the ending of a year without much to show for it. I feel like I've been preparing to go down the Road forever, too afraid to take that first step, and when I finally [do it], I keep running back home, even though home doesn't [really] exist now, it's something I have to build, but the amount of work required is daunting.