Tyler Weaver's Blog, page 33
August 25, 2019
August 24, 2019
To Three From Four
Tired of the coolness of the wood paneling / of the strategically-placed Kleenex boxes / of the symmetrical bowling-pin displays of bottled water which, no matter the state of your parching, you’re hesitant to disturb / of the smell of drugstore cologne and just-permed hair and mothballs and emptiness / of shaking the hands or hugging the forms of the grieving / of memories shared / of memories kept / of time taken for granted / of breath wasted / of letting my life pass me by / of lessons un...
August 23, 2019
Input Digestion Etc Etc
What I was thinking about while driving The Morkie to her grooming appointment: RSS or Newsletter?
Pro, RSS: simple, uncurated stream of links, available whenever I get around to it, in theory anyhow, and on my timetable.
Con, RSS: though devoid of the relentless flow of Twitter’s stream (which I long ago abandoned as an RSS substitute of any function or utility), it is, nonetheless, a stream, the urge to catch running water in a bucket omnipresent.
Pro, Newsletter: a cycle with an ending (c...
August 22, 2019
In All Things
To call the last few months challenging would be a gross understatement. Through all of it, however, my foolhardy determination to write This Next Fucking Book (working title), has kept me going; to know that it’s there, waiting for me, each and every morning before the sun comes up and the plates start spinning, is my mind’s saving grace – and punishment, depending on the day.
While life is, by nature, perpetually out of balance, our individual purpose is to keep it in balance, the balance...
August 21, 2019
Moving Day
Sharing a brief thought since time is short this morning – ’tis the final cabin exodus day – and I want to keep the chain unbroken here: These Informalities are the forewords to the day that hasn’t happened… or maybe they’re the afterwords to the day before. Or maybe they’re both.
Regularly scheduled programming returns tomorrow.
August 20, 2019
Memory Cartridge: PILOTWINGS (SNES)
Now that my dusty collection of game treasures has settled into its new home atop The Sanctum’s bookcase/wall, I can sift through the memories – real or imagined – stored inside those slate cartridges, and share them here.
… 4:3 pan and scan frustration over my inability to land the plane in that first airfield (“Fly? Yes. Land? No.” – my 16-bit reenactment of INDIANA JONES AND THE LAST CRUSADE? note: will be sure to write about INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM NES game here)… a joy ove...
