so much of life is the entry of data into a system. input -> black box -> output

i wonder what some of the bizarre struggles are even for. is it just to punch at something and in doing so find the purpose that exists only in punching?

idealism is best reserved for chewing gum and horse races.

• simplicity of control (you have control over your system)
• freedom to read, analyze and modify
• privacy - you control who sees you and who wants to is spelled out without nonsense
• profit for all => freedom and liberty

i hate ruin porn. the obsession of people to capture something that’s run down, destroyed, lost or just plain old makes me sick inside and yet i find myself chronicling the degradation of old copley hospital.

i can only think that what separates me from the ruin pornographers is that i only capture the external. i watch the flesh decompose without any desire to penetrate deeper and expose the fallen in ceilings or archetypal beams of light shining on some old toy or piece of furniture or, better yet, some old fashioned piano. that seems to be a thing people like to capture.

i interviewed to work in the factory of a box company once. they moment i knew i didn’t have the job was when they - having seen my resume and everything else

• asked me what experience i had in cardboard.

seriously.

so, i explained, in-depth, about how i had been using cardboard since i was a child. i loved storing things in it. building houses and mazes, using pieces to build projects and other crafts, etc.