tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87483525762516229142009-10-13T17:20:23.976-07:00Most of what I post here comes from my cell phone. I use a Treo and (usually) a foldable keyboard that I carry in my pocket. The set-up looks something like <a href="http://www.sorabji.com/t/treo/treo_01.jpg">this</a>. I have no spell check. In fact I abhor automated spell check and computerized grammar suggestions when used for personal writings. <br /><br /> Find me at my real web site: <a href="http://www.sorabji.com/">sorabji.com</a>.sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-3914865392712858592009-04-23T18:35:00.001-07:002009-04-23T18:35:27.718-07:00

This is this this is, is this this?Bad poetry, bad cold, snot pouring forth.Song on the jukebox is "Year of the Cat" which is an old favorite from my late-night radio days in Tampa. Ah, here's that great saxophone solo. I think this is the first song ever played on the new Magic 96 in Tampa. That first song might also have been Wildfire. Whatever the song I remember feeling proud or somehow on

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-69369037845110382412009-03-31T11:44:00.001-07:002009-03-31T11:44:25.238-07:00

Sitting at the Bel-Aire Diner, accepting complements for the fabulous foldable keyboard and waiting on a grilled cheese w/bacon sammich.I am waddling around town in a new pair of MBT shoes. I say waddle because these shoes have a buoyancy that takes some getting used to. I stocked up on big bandages after wearing them and tearing up the back of my ankle -- whatever that region is called. I will

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-67929777137634704722009-02-17T16:58:00.001-08:002009-02-17T16:58:49.947-08:00

Read about ants today, and how they communincate via pheromones and how a collective consciousness forms among them, this consciousness designed to support the inadaquecies of the individual ants.It was cool, and not altogether new to me, but I hadn't read about it in a long while, and not since reading some of the Julian Jaynes attempts at defining human consciousness as something of a

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-62553943638341583242009-01-25T19:16:00.001-08:002009-01-25T19:16:36.836-08:00

I guess I haven't used this keyboard in a while. It was buried so deep in my coat pocket I had to work to get it out. It was under a wad of napkins, some business cards, and some glossy postcard-size flyers for places I've been through lately.And pens. For some reason that pocket was stuffed with pens. Red, blue, black, and green. These are pens I bought in a moment of imagining I would make good

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-65989732487172108972008-12-04T08:23:00.001-08:002008-12-04T08:23:06.678-08:00

Strange dreams last night in which my brain was connected to my web sites, but faulty connections and vagaries of the Internet caused much of the text to look like dots on the Amsler Grid (The Amsler Grid is the pattern used for Macular Degeneration tests, and if you're seeing splotches and empty space on that grid like I do then it tends to mean you have a troubled macula).I could barely

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-52844410416949032522008-11-25T17:02:00.001-08:002008-11-25T17:02:14.492-08:00

An e-mail from a friend yesterday reminded me of a lingering memory of Leslie, who commit suicide last year. I and several other web people of the time were invited to be a part of a project which seemed intriguing on the surface but in which I quickly lost interest. I was always skeptical of it but had nothing to lose in seeing what it was about. The organizer invited people who he described as

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-15251835481584496342008-08-11T18:44:00.001-07:002008-08-11T18:44:32.330-07:00

When, inevitably, our conversations repeat, the questions return, idly re-packaged. The theater of the moment dictates how the questions are nuanced: gently re-phrased or sarcastically flourished, the questioner knowing the answers for years but taking pride that he still knows to ask.All have been answered, definitively, with evidence, but the questions persist. Why? For the sake of the

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-70832506829170809152008-07-07T09:53:00.000-07:002008-07-07T10:12:33.860-07:00

This weirded me out yesterday. Shopping for air conditioners, I thought I was at amazon.com. I noticed, though, that amazon did not remember me from earlier that day. Normally I stay logged in at amazon.com. That's when I noticed the URL. I was actually browsing amaozn.com, having mis-typed the URL. Amaozn.com is a copy of amazon.com, as this search result page for air conditioners shows:">http:/

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-10401805558690680072008-06-16T18:27:00.001-07:002008-06-16T18:27:51.595-07:00

A problem I have with this project of learning the Well Tempereed Cllavier is that I do not know anyone who cares. No one in my immediate life would have any desire to sit and listen to that stuff. I play for my neighbors. Occasionally I turn my camera on and broadcast over one of those webcam broadcast networks. That is usually fun.But mostly this is a solitary pursuit. My life is haunted by

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-66778727035234217702008-05-30T09:39:00.000-07:002008-12-10T18:40:44.152-08:00

What's the story on this weird 9-11 graffiti that I spotted a few times around midtown Manhattan? It reminds me, indirectly, of the receipt I got from Carusos Pizza and Pasta on Fulton Street. The receipt was issued on June 7, 2007; yet the receipt carried the date 09-11-01.

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-45760541134246236812008-05-29T14:14:00.001-07:002008-05-29T14:14:35.893-07:00

At The Irish Pub on 7th Avenue and 50-something Street. A conversation with the bartender reveals that this place has always been called The Irish Pub. "Always" meaning that it might have been called something else 50 years ago, or before the current collective memory of the place.This is the place I thought had been called The Slaughtered something. Lamb? Sheep? The Slaughtered Elephant Pub?The

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-20979299944320185152008-05-19T19:13:00.001-07:002008-05-19T19:13:56.645-07:00

Sitting in the kitchen. Underwear, grey t-shirt, white socks. The table holds this writing contraption, two stacks of paper, and a NEW YORK NEW YORK coffee mug that sprung a leak years ago. It finds use now as a paperweight for one of those stacks of paper. This table also holds, ridiculously, a 2.62 oz. thing of McCormick' Hot Shot Black and Red Pepper.I do not sit at this table as much as I

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-17077670161221579842008-05-16T08:49:00.000-07:002008-05-16T09:28:03.071-07:00

i like making legitimate use of a new http status code. a few months ago i discovered 503, which proved useful in telling greedy searchbots that they were overloading my site with their bot traffic and could you please try again later. this week i used 410. last year i set up sorabji weather for myself. along with a dict server and a web-based universal whois lookup the weather station is just

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-1824879803504758352008-05-11T17:55:00.001-07:002008-05-11T18:04:24.812-07:00

am i the only one to have noticed that the mobile version of wikipedia is showing ads from taptu.mobi and maybe other places? it's been this way for months. i didn't think wikipedia did advertising.check wapedia.mobi/en/Johann_Sebastian_Bach for evidence.

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-75178642452469230852008-05-10T19:53:00.001-07:002008-05-10T19:53:25.944-07:00

I feel like I had an interesting day. It felt interesting before, during, and after. It is slipping away from my memories already, like the dreams I had last night.I dreamed that I woke up in the middle of the night in the house I grew up in in Tampa. I stepped from my bedroom into the hall to turn off the light in the hallway. As I reached for the light switch the light turned off. By

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-78406920070200308572008-05-06T18:58:00.001-07:002008-05-06T18:58:32.613-07:00

Today was out. Outside. Outland. Confluence of random energies singled into quarters of my minds.Junkle droof. Blurrfish. Oushtart. Bläsh kull grommund dreskin qiffle. Muttle fluz, müttle fluz. Muttle fluz.Napper livruq drabbim porf.Ikkliuc joz wull frangowl nopplé, shohegac picc puvaxid qob. Qob! Qob!Napper livruq qob!Clouzog horp yik sqaag hust, koob bilsk fuzk gilleftroub crefqit fenstishrem

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-56125104354150291832008-05-04T19:01:00.001-07:002008-05-04T19:01:33.993-07:00

I feel like a bit of a twad living in New York and shopping at Target, but I was just sorta there when the pants called to me. My plan was to visit Fresh Meadows. The Q88 bus to Fresh Meadows leaves from somewhere near Queens Place, a small mall which houses Target. I describe it as small because it is small. I grew up in Florida where (as in most parts of the country/world) a mall covers many

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-35342342530942563012008-04-30T22:48:00.001-07:002008-04-30T22:48:07.969-07:00

Feeling soft. Girls touching me. Telling me I am this. Telling me I am that. Looking away. Well, that last part is nothing new. Remembering how nice girls are like space aliens. Unusual and bizarre. Thinking about Monday's ghastly experiment in which I tried to EXPRESS MY FEELINGS through music I wrote. Never again. From here forth it is back to business. Strictly business. In music as in all

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-85218628408953261532008-03-31T17:59:00.001-07:002008-03-31T17:59:26.807-07:00

My sister told me some stuff today that I did not know regarding the evacuation from Laos. I have some foggy memories from the story having heard it a few times as a young person, but I have sketchy memories of the events. The day we left Laos our mother showed up at our school in the middle of the day. She told the vice-principal that she was taking us to a dentist's appointment. That part of

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-76455385487111863562008-03-06T21:48:00.001-08:002008-03-06T21:48:58.068-08:00

Roger Clemens has opened the floodgates of government inquiry into his life and the lives of everyone he has known. There is no players union, there is no arms-length Mitchell report. The FBI can subpoena anyone it wants, and those who lie go to jail. Baseball's house of cards is coming down, and Roger Clemens will be to blame. I look for Roger The Dodger to pull an O.J. drama move.

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-66507227706455890102008-03-03T18:55:00.001-08:002008-03-03T18:55:15.676-08:00

Today was strange. Everything seemed to go well. I felt good, which was surprising because I basically drank all freakin' day yesterday. I set to work on a web project I've worked on for a few months. Everything came easy this time. All the mod_rewrite crap, the search engine, even the file system I planned early on seems to work mostly as expected.In between each of the day's tiny administrative

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-11813286748290099062008-03-01T10:11:00.001-08:002008-03-01T10:11:36.342-08:00

Aha. A company called "Movers, not Shakers", ends up with an unfortunate web address that some would pronounce thus: Mover Snot Shakers dot com.

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-20837987755559331252008-02-14T08:37:00.000-08:002008-02-14T09:19:49.796-08:00

Sitting at a Starbucks, thinking I will stay here at this table for the remainder of the year.I found myself surprisingly wrapped up in the Roger Clemens nonsense yesterday. I was neither fan nor foe of the pitcher, but it interests me when people of great accomplishment in life crash and burn in spectacular fashion. Among a certain sphere of influence Clemens is regarded as an icon, but the icon

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-90732985329770551162008-02-05T09:54:00.001-08:002008-02-05T09:54:31.255-08:00

Sitting at a Starbucks, reflecting on the abundance of human contact I have had so far this day. A direct conversation with the landlord, friendly banter with someone at the next table here at the coffee shop, and substantive phone conversations with my accountant in Florida regarding my father's final taxes. Completing that set of taxes has dragged on largely because of the accountant's very

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8748352576251622914.post-36088667367614141892008-01-21T20:09:00.001-08:002008-01-21T20:09:58.747-08:00

Trying to erase from my memory the sounds of today. Filling the stairwell of my apartment building, Annie cried "DON'T DIE ON ME I NEED YOU OH NO!" Annie's father died today. While some of us puttered around doing nothing, thinking we were doing something, the old man on the third floor dropped dead of a heart attack. The fire trucks and ambulances appeared outside my window. The firefighters

sorabjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12541697359656186243noreply@blogger.com0