the diary of antoine roquentin

Omg. Since plugging in that new whisper-quiet case I’m realizing how obscenely loud my computer is. Tomorrow I’m going in there and removing the two 80mm fans that cool the hard drives. By next Tuesday (the end of my eBay auction) I should know whether I’m selling my system or whether I will have to transplant Navarre to the new case and save up for an iMac.

Anyway, for some reason (probably lack of sleep) I thought today was my psychology class. Nope, it’s tomorrow. And I didn’t realize this until I was halfway into town. That’s good, because I was late anyway. So I got home and started watching the new episodes of some of my favorite podcasts again. I love TWIT (This Week in Tech), a podcast, DiggNation (a weekly video podcast), and RocketBoom (a short daily video podcast). I don’t know why, but I just hadn’t watched them in ages and all the unwatched episodes were clogging up my hard drive. As soon as I started watching DiggNation again, though, I was totally hooked. I am in love with that video podcast. Mostly it’s because of Kevin Rose, but still. They crack me up so much because they remind me so much of the conversations that me and Joe would have when we would hang out and drink.

And Kevin Rose owns a 15″ PowerBook. What’s not to love? They are having this event in San Francisco on the 23rd and I’m dying to go, even though it would totally decimate my savings and I know of no one who is in love with DiggNation as much as I am to share in the road trip goodness.

I’ve given it a lot of thought, and the reason that me and Brian broke up is very simple. We don’t have any of the same interests. We watched DiggNation one time and he had like no idea what was going on. Not that he was stupid or anything, but I’m just immersed in the Internet culture and he isn’t. It boils down to this: computers are a really big part of my life and I just don’t think I could spend the rest of my life with somebody who isn’t into them as much as I am.

Anyway, it was wonderful to have all my homework done and he just be able to relax and crack up at Kevin and Alex (of DiggNation)’s jokes. I think I’m going to have to get a DiggNation T-shirt, even though I’m broke. I bought another Apple T-shirt on eBay a few days ago, and it showed up today. This one doesn’t say Mac OS X on the back but other than that it looks identical to my other one. I’m sort of embarrassed to have so much Apple swag, but they make damn good computers. I wanted to get an ATI T-shirt, but it all they had was these silly crappy white ones. I also attempted to get a Ubuntu (my fave distro of Linux) t-shirt, but they only ship them to Europe because the programmers behind Ubuntu are apparently Norwegian. So long story short, I’ve got two Apple shirts and all the rest of the tech companies have pathetic promotional merchandise. except for I did find this cool Sun Microsystems shirt, but it was a little too expensive for my taste.

I was thinking about getting this shirt, but I’m not exactly sure whether it’s funny enough to spend $15 plus shipping on.

Jinx shirts are always almost on the line of being tasteful. You smile at what’s on the shirt, but wouldn’t be caught dead in one. I think this one is funny though. Should I spend 15 bucks on it?

I’m rocking out to the Black Eyed Peas. The me from two years ago would smack the shit out of me now. I think the me from two years ago would mostly be confused by my new self, decked out in the Apple gear listening to happy hardcore. I guess a lot of aspects of my previous personality are still embedded in my room. The keyboard, for example. The only two pieces of music that are ever on my makeshift music stand are Beethoven’s “Fur Elise” or his “Moonlight” sonata, just like when I was in high school. And all the black clothes would probably signal that I wasn’t a doppleganger. One thing’s for sure: Darius from two years ago would definitely envy all of my possessions. Hm.

Christ. My recognition is sucking. I’m having to type like every fifth word. I don’t know what’s wrong. I turned up the volume on my microphone, that seems to be helping.

I bought my mom this book that she was talking about wanting, but accidentally I had it shipped to me instead of her. I have been planning to put it in another box with a card and some cute wrapping paper, but I just haven’t gotten around to it. I really need to do that. She got angry at me because I didn’t send her a Valentine’s Day card. I meant to, but it slipped my mind. Speaking of possibly broken promises if my memory fails me yet again, I promised Kelly I would come down for spring break, but I need to tell my boss I’m going to be taking that time off. Let’s see… spring break is March 20-24. I will make sure to talk to him tomorrow about that. I think I’ve given up on my attempt to be more pleasant to my coworkers. Possibly that was because I only got like four hours of sleep, but I just wasn’t in the mood today.

Regarding the sleep thing, I really need to become a eunuch. I waste so much damn time trying to find warm squishy places it’s fucking rediculous. I suspect I already have the high-pitched “gay” voice already, what is losing them going to hurt? I will just freeze some swimmers for later use, and live an STD-free life. I’m afraid of giving up sex though. Not the actual act, but all of the ridiculous amounts of time that I spend doing things related to sex (watching podcasts with cute guys in them, downloading random files for Jon because I still sort of have a crush on him, staying up until 4 a.m. on extended WebCam sessions). I was talking with Kelly about this… I feel that everything we do is a distraction from them reality that life is meaningless. I sort of want to “dismantle” (a la I (heart) Huckabees) and get rid of all the distracting things and find out what’s really real, but just like everyone else I’m desperately afraid that there really is nothing.

I don’t know. Did I tell you I was looking at my Web statistics and my unique visitors had jumped to the 2,000 mark? Around October and November, I was lucky to get four or 500. However, when I delved deeper into the records, I got a ridiculous amount of hits from spam bots. I don’t know whether they count as unique hits, but I think they do. So now thanks to the wonders of comment spam, I have no idea how many people are actually reading. That’s not such a bad thing though. It adds some mystery and suspense to my blog, something desperately needed in my real life.

This morning in the part of my brain that is only alive when I’m forced to get up after four hours of sleep, I was contemplating the difference between what I do and what my coworkers do. I probably write more every day the they do for the paper, yet they get paid. However, I can write about whatever I want. My sleep deprived brain drew some parallels, but I guess now that I’m a little more awake the comparison is unrealistic.

I mentally scoff with indignation when the people around my office (especially the boss) talk with this near-religious reverie about how good certain newspapers are. It really amuses me. With the advent of the Internet, newspapers have been reduced to magazines. The only way to get news immediately is through the Internet. No more of that ’60s stuff of “Oh, we will read it in the paper tomorrow.” The whole concept of instantaneousness fascinates me. Those of you that are regular readers will know that this is just Marshall McLuhan speaking through me, but it seems like our information backbones (the fiber-optic cables, cellular towers, etc. are going to be the neurons of a new brain. Whether it becomes self-aware is another quandary entirely.

As much as my boss gets on my nerves sometimes, he’s pretty smart in some ways. One day he was talking about how people in Crescent City behave. This was probably more than six months ago, but it really stuck in my head and seems more and more relevant as the days go by in this seaside hell.

It’s the way people in Crescent City operate. They act like they are mad at you, insult you, and try to get you to do what they want so that they will be happy and be your friend. The problem is, I don’t care whether they like me or not.

I totally botched the quote, but the idea is intact. Do you find this to be the case?

Well, I guess I should sign off. Go and check out DiggNation, it’s a wonderfully funny and cool show. And I am officially in love with Kevin Rose.

Categories: Ennui

I got my new case today. It is SO cool! It has these giant fans, but when I plugged it in and turned them on full speed I could barely hear them over all of the eight tiny fans that are in my system now. I was dying to transplant my current computer into the new case, but I knew that if I did that I would never sell it and I would be stuck with this thing forever. Not that I don’t love Navarre (my current system), but I’ve had it for a year and I need something new. This is something new.

Don’t you just want to take it home?

I want a system I can plug a bunch of hard drives into, and something that can run a RAID array. The case is SO sexy, I can’t even conceive of how hot it is. It has adjustable controls for all of the fans in it, so when I go to sleep I can set them really low and open my window, or turn them all on low except for the one that cools the hard drives. Actually, it really won’t matter. It’s twice as quiet as my current system, I can leave them on full bore if I wanted to and I would be able to sleep so much better. Well, I think I’m going to turn my energies to making the perfect eBay listing. I might lie on the listing and say that I got a Power Mac. With eBay you always have to have a good reason of why you’re selling your product. You never want the reader to think that you are selling it because it is broken. My computer works great, but if I didn’t really have a reason for selling it, it would sound suspicious.

Well, I’m going to start the tedious eBay procedures. I’ll post a link to my computer when it’s done. I shouldn’t lie, I should tell the truth: this computer has served me well for this year, but I’m running more and more demanding applications simultaneously and I think that I need to make the leap to a dual core system.

Categories: Ennui

“dont try to fill a void in your life with a man, fill the void your self so that the whole you can be offered to your partner”

Oh no! I have to fill the deep void in my soul with some random drunk guy! Oh my life is a dark room! Oh eternal sadness!

*bursts out laughing*

I totally read two chapters today. Suck on that!

I’m becoming the Superman of speed reading… and I’m already a fast reader to begin with. It turns out my cousin in New Jersey is going to help me with my psychology project. She doesn’t know it yet, but she will. And my mom told me today that my uncle got a Mac! I thought that was incredibly cool. I’m trying to decide whether I should watch Chinatown or just go to sleep early. Eh…I’m going to see if I can finish up chapter six in the psych book before 1 a.m.

[UPDATE]: I just finished chapter 6, and it’s 12:58. Off to dreamland.

Categories: Ennui

I thought I was going to be all productive and wash the dishes, and I ended up cutting my finger on this half-broken mug that my dad won’t throw away because he’s too cheap. I’m bleeding like a stuck pig. I wonder if it’s because of all the ibuprofen I’ve been taking. Doesn’t that stuff thin your blood? Anyway, I think I’m going to turn my attention towards more benign forms of entertainment. My psych book is calling me. I hope this Band-Aid holds, or my room is going to look like a murder scene.

After work I noticed that there were cars at the theater, so I went over there to try my hand–er–feet at some DDR. I hadn’t practiced in a while, but I thought I would be at least moderately good. Last time I was there was that weekend that Brian came up, and the back button was stuck down. I thought that since a few weeks have passed, they had fixed it, but they didn’t. It didn’t stick down, but you basically had to put all of your weight at the very back of the button and hope that it would actually register. It worked about 20% of the time. I think I will try going back in a month or so, but if it’s not fixed by then I think unfortunately it’s the end of my dance revolution days.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my conversation with Brian last night. One of the things he said that particularly stuck in my mind was that I was talking about wanting him to be well read and to make jokes referencing Sartre or something and we would be the only ones that would get them, and he was all “I don’t like making fun of people because they are stupid.”

And there, I think, is our main point of incompatibility. I love making fun of stupid people. It’s what I do. What else is there to do in Crescent City? I go to my classes solely to hear people ask questions like “What is a protagonist?” and to hear my teachers make up words (“filmatic”) to make themselves sound intelligent.

I think I’m going to buy more books. My current pile of rejects doesn’t have much gold left in it. I have about 20 pages left in Civilization and Its Discontents, and then the only thing I have left is Naked Lunch. I have to say, I’m not really in love with Naked Lunch. I mean, the writing is superb and my eyes glide effortlessly through the pages, but I’m a bit too used to reading Freud, Baudrillard and McLuhan. They are dry. A slow, painstaking dance between abstraction and concreteness. But at the end of the novel, it’s painfully obvious what they’re trying to say. I’m not really in the mood for the emphasis on reality that I’m seeing through William S. Burroughs. I think I’m going to get some books about mathematics and string theory.

It turned out that my potato salad wasn’t so bad after all. I had some this morning and maybe it was because all the flavors had time to seep into each other, but it’s actually tasted like potato salad, not potatoes coated in mayonnaise. So yay.

My God, another random person has messaged me. Haven’t we all gotten this MySpace message?

“Hey! Remember me? It’s (insert name here)! What’s up?”

And you go to their profile and there is only a picture of like a cat if they are a girl or a car if it’s a guy. They live in some random town close to you, but you can’t place them at all. And it’s even worse when they have a photo, and no matter how hard you stare you know that at one time your friends with this person, but can’t remember what you did or how you met. So you send them a message back playing along like you know who they are. We’ve all done it. And I’m doing it right now.

Categories: Ennui

> Crossover – Lucida Obscura

Guess who called me tonight? Brian.

He called at 1 AM. He doesn’t have phone, but he walked from his house to his work to use their phone. I guess he was feeling nostalgic or something. I must have seemed like a heartless asshole to him, but I was honest. I don’t know what he stands for. I don’t know what he wants to do with his life. You know… it’s odd. Back in my phase when I was an emo kid (shut up Kevin), all I wanted to do was find a guy to spend the rest of my life with. Back then I had no idea that people would actually like me who I didn’t like enough to consider spending my life with them.

Brian is a great guy I guess… but what I basically told him is I don’t know his philosophy. The sad fact is, he doesn’t have one. He hasn’t read Camus. He hasn’t read Sartre. He doesn’t understand me at all. I can’t believe I have reached a point in self-esteem where a guy talks about wanting someone to spend the rest of his life with I tell him that I don’t think we’re right for each other. He told me that he wanted something more “serious.” I told him what I felt was important in this world. Science. Technology. Knowledge. Philosophy. The Internet. Instantaneous communication. The sum of all human knowledge downloaded in two seconds right to your hard drive. I wanted to know what he felt about everything. I wanted to know what he wanted to do with his life. He didn’t have any answers for me, unfortunately. I finally asked in the question that I never asked because I know that once I ask it, a relationship is over. “What’s your favorite novel?” I inquired.

He said he wouldn’t tell me because he thought some things are more important than novels. “Name one,” I said.

“Well, moral things.” he said.

Moral things.

I think it just comes down to the fact that I don’t respect people that don’t read. I think that I did a Taggart. Starting a relationship I knew was doomed. Avoiding all of the important topics. Avoiding the “L” word. What is that platitude that they sometimes use at the end of cartoons? “When you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em?” I wanted to beat Taggart. And this is what I’ve become.

As we were about to get off the phone, I asked him. “What you think is the most important thing?” He wouldn’t tell me. He said I wouldn’t find it important. And he did the eighth grade girl thing and wouldn’t tell me. I was honest with him the whole time, and that was what I got? What ever.

He kept saying how he was thinking about me and missed me, and I didn’t tell him, but to be quite honest, I hadn’t given him a second thought. I feel like a terrible person. At least I was honest though. For the first time in this whole thing, I’m actually agitated. Christ.

I did get a lot done tonight. I finished Chapter four and got halfway through Chapter five in my psychology book. I need to finish Chapter six by Wednesday. I really should read Chapter seven, because my psych “teacher” is going to attempt to teach it to us in class and since she is incapable of teaching I’m going to have to learn it myself.

I also made potato salad tonight. It took hours, and turned out tasting mildly gross, but that was probably because I was missing two ingredients (mustard and vinegar) and used this one spice that only after adding it I noticed the sell by date: “Best if used by Mar 98.” It wasn’t gross enough to throw out though. I think I will have some for breakfast tomorrow. I love being able to cook. I’m just used to living in my mom’s house where no matter what I would cook I would always have the right ingredients on hand. Now I’m in a really bad mood. I feel guilty for telling the truth. I bared my soul and he only took off his shoes. Is it unfair that I can’t be with a guy who doesn’t know what he wants out of life? Is it wrong that I can’t go out with a guy who doesn’t read Kafka?

I feel terrible. I should go to sleep and get all of this ridiculousness out of my head. On a somewhat happy note, I downloaded this glorious band called Crossover. If you put Alice from Alice in Wonderland, Felix Da Housecat, the chick from Portishead, a Swiss stripper, Vladmir and Estragon from Waiting for Godot, and the guy from Orbital in a room and made them make music, this is what you come out with. It’s soft, melodic, and has really intricate melodies, catchy beats, and esoteric, yet repetitive and pointless vocals. The lyrics are like…this LSD-enhanced voyage through 18th century fairy tales… I love them but I really need to sleep. It’s 1:30.

Categories: Ennui