Been rather crazy lately, with the finishing of work and the preparing to leave New York for Providence, blech. Read a lot of books lately: that new ill-designed Houellebecq, that depressing but intriguing Murakami bit about the Tokyo gas attack, some old Salinger and Bukowski and other such shit. Mostly pleasantly untheoretical, in anticipation of school again I guess. I started the Superstudio Middelburg Lectures book but I got annoyed with the footnote typography and threw it across the room, and then drank whiskey.

The shit I did for Merce Cunningham ended up being pretty good, I think, which is a rare thing for me to say, cuz usually my own work does not thrill me, especially this sort of work, which was mostly code. I sort of hate writing code with all of my heart, really, but it pays the bills so I do it, which of course makes me feel like a dirty whore. C’est la guerre, no? Yeah.

The trouble, really, is that my social circle is composed mainly of people who do not write code. This is sort of by design, really, cuz nothing is retardeder than a bunch of geeks sitting around talking about code. It gets very old very quickly. Shit was particularly bad in Troy, where we were all geeks of one stripe or another, and I recall that at one party at Kevin’s, we made the rule that there would be no computer talk after midnight, and it was a good rule, indeed.

So but still I have the urge to shoot off my mouth about code, now and again. So what I am going to do is put a bunch of code talk in the “extended entry” portion of this “blog article”, yes, and if you are so inclined you can click the little link and read all about that nonsense, so it’s not all up in your face. How’s that? I think that’s good. Yes.

Anyway. In non-code news, I am going to the beach tomorrow with my friends for labor day. This particular beach is in Amagansett, which is a good place to go because you can avoid sounding like an utter douche and saying “oh yes I’m going to the Hamptons”, because you’re not, technically speaking. Anyway it’s not like that anyway, we stay at a total 70’s-vintage beach house owned by Anna’s parents, not some twatterrific mansion. So yeah. Fuck yeah!

-fish