You are viewing the archives for the category Thoughts.


A sense of place | February 11, 2005

Strange to think that less than six weeks ago I was on another continent. Sometimes I am so enveloped in my routine here that the past is nearly incomprehensible. It feels not just like another world (as it did the moment I stepped off the plane) but another era, another life. Who visited those places, shook those hands, took those photos? Ordinary facts take on a strange quality, framed by the incredible reality of my trip: I haven’t had a haircut since before I was in Israel or I’ve had this pair of contacts since before I was in Israel or these toenails were in the Dead Sea. No one around me converses in Hebrew.

Posted 7:08 PM
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Warming up to it | January 23, 2005

One of the best things about being outside during a blizzard (a real blizzard, 20 to 30 inches of snow accumulating, 40 mile-per-hour winds) is how nice everyone is. Crowds of people—booted, hatted, jacketed, scarfed and gloved, wool-socked and long-underweared—waddle around in self-conscious ridiculousness and cannot help but smile at each other. Sleds are shared, complements are paid (“Did you just go down the hill on a frisbee?”), turns are taken, hands shaken (through several layers of snowy fabric), names exchanged, and before you know it you are back inside, drying your jacket on an unfamiliar radiator and drinking hot chocolate with half a dozen new friends.

Posted 5:57 PM
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Alex | January 25, 2004

i: doing this from memory isn’t as easy as it used to be
a: that’s the nature of memory, i’m afraid
a: (but imagine a world in which memories got clearer over time)
a: (you remember your childhood perfectly, yesterday barely at all)
a: (i think i smell a blog entry)

Posted 12:16 AM
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Follow-Up | December 28, 2003

Three for four.

Hire me?

Posted 4:34 PM
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Echo | December 12, 2003

The subway station at Harvard Square. I am thinking now: why is it that airports always seem so much nicer than train stations? One answer is that windows and a little sunlight go a long way toward enhancing the mood of a place. But also the echo, the cave-like sounds. Even (especially?) in a place packed with people, echoes are lonesome. (What else is like this?)

Down here I am immune to the natural passage of time. In malls they do that on purpose, design the buildings with no windows or with bright frosted windows so that you won’t be reminded of how much time you have spent in there, so that you’ll stay and spend more money. Here it is just another side-effect.

Posted 10:47 PM
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Evan | November 23, 2003

Aaron: anyway, paper to be writing

Aaron: ta.

Evan: yes

Evan: ta

Evan: glagg

Aaron: that might be the worst net acronym ever invented

Evan: indeed

Aaron: first of all, ‘and’ is supposed to be excluded from acronyms?

Aaron: second, why good luck and good game?

Aaron: and good game before the game?

Evan: no no no

Evan: You’re missing the understood words that go in between the shown words

Evan: There are plenty of them

Aaron: …

Evan: But it would make the acronymn too long

Evan: HGLAHAGG

Evan: Looks like the name of someone from Beowulf

Evan: Have Good Luck And Have A Good Game

Aaron: you are so about to be profiled

Evan: haha

Aaron: YASATBP

Aaron: some day there will be acronyms for every possible sentence!

Aaron: and then those acronyms will be pronounced as words

Aaron: and they’ll be the words in new super sentences

Aaron: sdtwbafeps attawbpaw atbtwinss

Evan: Now pronounce them out loud!

Aaron: oh, i am

Evan: ATBtwinss

Aaron: k, now bye

Aaron: knb

Evan: Hahahah

————————————————————————————————————————
Auto response from Aaron: OK SERIOUSLY ESSAY TIME (OSET)
————————————————————————————————————————

Evan: Just pronounce that

Evan: Hglahagg

Aaron: ITIAGTBTL

Aaron: (i think i am going to blog this later)

Aaron: but ONLY AFTER THIS ESSAY YOU JERK

Aaron: AND THOSE ARE CAPITALIZED BECAUSE I AM SHOUTING NOT BECAUSE I AM ACRONYMING

Evan: HAHAHAHahahahahaha

————————————————————————————————————————
Auto response from Aaron: FRTT
————————————————————————————————————————

Evan: Yeah right “for real this time”

Evan: You’ll come back

Evan: And I’ll interrupt you

Evan: Like this

Evan: muahahahahahahhaha

Posted 10:30 PM
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Mobs | October 28, 2003

Something I have noticed lately about things I enjoy reading: their potential audience has grown narrower and narrower. Not in the sense that fewer people appreciate X piece of writing today than did yesterday, but in the sense that day by day I find writing which more closely hews to my narrow experience.

Or, by example. I enjoyed a piece Paul wrote, called Flash. When I finished reading it, I thought I might link to it from my website (in fact I have now done this) or put it in my away message. This is what I generally do when I find things which interest me or make me happy.

But I hesitated. In order to understand Flash, one has to first know about so-called flash mobs—the means by which they propagated, the type of people who embraced them, the ensuing backlash, perhaps the role of personal websites. This information is all contained in Paul’s piece, he even starts with a pretty thorough definition, but it is there in such a way that it won’t help you get the piece unless you already had it. You can’t be told unless you already knew. (Imagine seeing Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead before knowing the plot of Hamlet. It’s all in there, yes, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be able to grok the play without knowing it in advance.)

And there is more. For one, I think you have to know Paul to appreciate what’s going on in Flash. (At least in the sense in which I myself know Paul, which I concede is not much.) For one, you have to know that he would not in fact plant a bomb in Central Park. This is probably obvious but even the obvious is easily lost when there is a change of context. Remember about that Onion article that a Chinese newspaper took for fact and reprinted.

But moreso, you have to know Paul to know that maybe, just maybe, he himself is one of the people he writes about blowing up—jaded, detached, shielded from the world by wit and irony. Paul, as I know and the casual reader may not, is big on irony. Maybe with his bomb story he is trying to tell us that he regrets this about himself, that he doesn’t want to be counted among those people. He is in some ways part of their group but nonetheless above them, or he pities them, or he pities himself for falling in with their lot, or he loathes himself. Big internal conflict. I don’t purport to understand it all myself; it’s just that you have to know all this background information to even get a foothold.

Okay, so what? So I find myself fascinated by things which I know to be accessible only to people quite similar to me. Is there a problem with that?

I think there might be. What is the culmination of this trend? Will I reach a point where everything I read is so narrowly-targeted, so dependent on prior knowledge that there is no one with whom I can share it? And shouldn’t writing be the other way around, be crafted to make the barrier-to-entry for readers as low as possible? That is, shouldn’t writers aim for that which is universal more than that which is eclectic?

Of course this misses the point. I like what I like precisely because it is eclectic, because I like to feel as though I am “in on the joke” with the author, am part of some special niche audience. And in this way I am just like everyone else, exactly alike in my desire to be unique.

Anyway, go read Flash. You might enjoy it. (But then again, probably not.)

Posted 6:51 PM
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BloggerCon | October 5, 2003

Neal Stephenson, for all his wonders-of-technology prophesizing, has often pushed the theme that no machine will ever be able to convincingly reproduce the full emotional depth of a human. They might pass the Turing Test based on content, but when it comes to true subtlety of expression, anything but actual human contact comes up short.

BloggerCon was a good reminder of that. Reading someone’s site for a couple months of course makes me feel like I know them, but a couple hours in meatspace does so much so quickly. On Saturday night I had dinner with AKMA and his son, Andrew Grumet, Lisa Williams, and Joey deVilla. Then a couple of us went over to the Commander Hotel (which Joey insistently referred to as the Commodore Hotel) and met Joi Ito (fresh from Tokyo), Kevin Marks, and a handful of others.

Today, at the Day 2 sessions, I got to hear from Kevin Marks, Oliver Willis, Jeff Jarvis, Scott Heiferman, Dan Gilmor, and David Weinberger, plus dozens more I didn’t know of before.

I took some good notes, listed some books I’ll really have to read now, and found out about a lot of interesting topics.

Also, if I’d known I was going to run into Elizabeth Spiers I would have planned something clever to say.

Posted 5:19 PM
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Doomed | September 6, 2003

I know that I never had a chance. As if that were supposed to make it easier. As if to be doomed from the beginning makes it somehow less of a tragedy. No fault, just fate, if such a thing exists.

But let me put it another way. One month ago, Michael wrote to me, or rather replied to me, answering a question I put to him. His answer was “The only thing that can break your heart is the right and necessary course of action.”

There are two possible ways to intepret this. One is to say that love is so indomitable, so persevering, that we will only allow it to die if we are utterly powerless in the situation.

The other is simply to assume that heartbreak is inevitable.

Also in my message to Michael, which seems scarily prescient now, I quoted Galway Kinnell: “This is the nightmare you wake screaming from: being forever in the pre-trembling of a house that falls.” Maybe we are cursed from the beginning, but maybe that is all the more reason to struggle until the end.

Posted 11:46 AM
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Neverland | August 17, 2003

“Innocent and heartless” is what J.M. Barrie calls children in the last sentence of Peter Pan. Meaning innocence, as he sees it, is simply to lack affections, to be driven by curiousity and adventure alone. Any kind of empathy is a loss of innocence.

Posted 4:00 PM
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Parable | July 31, 2003

“In a small village in Mexico there was a Catholic priest, middle-aged and well-loved, admired by all the people in the town. One day he woke up to find that he had lost the faith, and no longer believed in what he had dedicated his life to. But he knew the village could not afford to replace him, and continued to lead and counsel them religiously for the remainder of his natural life. No one ever suspected that his teachings were not heartfelt.”

The person who told me that story was trying to encourage me to have a “fling” with a girl I would only be in contact with for that week and then never again. It was, he told me, the allegorical example of “justifiable hypocricy”—there was that little scrap of dishonesty at the center, but everyone involved was happy and got what they wanted, so why not?

I wasn’t convinced, then. The shallow reason (which I quickly provided him) was that the girl in question was insipid, not the type one imagines having a fling with.

The deeper reason was that unlike the priest in the story, I would have no reprieve of death at the end of my deception. I would have to go on with that knowledge, and it felt like it would be a burden. I opted instead to disappoint the girl but retain my honesty.

Sometimes, though, I wonder.

Posted 10:42 AM
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Final Thoughts Before Leaving | June 25, 2003

I got my meningitis shot a couple hours ago, so I feel confident that each of the several hundred bugs that bit me this evening will die a painful death from the high levels of meningococcal vaccine in my blood. (The ones that supped near my bicep will have it the worst.)

Posted 10:58 PM
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Beach Day | June 16, 2003

You know, I wasn’t ashamed to play make-believe games then, and I’m not ashamed to play make-believe games now. You all thought you were oh-so-mature for standing on the other side and laughing at the “little boys”, but I see nothing embarassing about using one’s imagination.

Posted 12:24 PM
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Or am I? | June 12, 2003

Teacher: Hey kid, how come you’re always here so early in the morning?

A: Well, it’s part of this deal I have the with administration so I can get out after 3 years, I have to be here 20 minutes longer than everybody else each day. Don’t have to do anything particular, don’t have to think, just have to show up. They consider it representative of the whole high school experience.

T: …

A: Just kidding.

Posted 4:20 PM
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Advice | May 20, 2003

Does it bother me that I don’t always get thanked for what I offer? At first, maybe.

Then again, I’d rather be honest than be appreciated, if it has to be one or the other. For example, when I tell someone that the world is a cruel and frustrating place sometimes and they can’t afford to let the tiniest cruelties and frustrations get under their skin all the time, especially when dealing with their friends — well, advice like that rarely elicits a “thank you” or even a smile, but it’s the truth as I see it. Take it or leave it, I can offer no other.

Posted 10:32 PM
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Rating | May 13, 2003

If I ever become a frequent traveler—for example, a professional pilot—I plan to compile an extensive database rating all airport bathrooms on the quality of their toilet paper. This I will eventually put in the form of a pocket-sized, cross-indexed handbook that will sell 10 million copies in the first two press runs. “Got your TP guide?” they will ask each other while waiting in line at the check-in counter; “Oh yeah, never leave home without it.”

Westchester County Airport, White Plains, NY: 6 out of 10. Sturdy two-ply, at least, but not exactly what I’d call smooth to the touch.

Posted 5:36 PM
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Prostitute | May 3, 2003

It’s Tuesday night. I’m sitting here, debating whether or not I should watch that public spectacle known as American Idol. Music is playing.

Thought 1: Well, some of the contestants are pretty good, but none of them hold a candle to Maynard.

(Pause, inward chuckle.)

Thought 2: What if Maynard had been on American Idol?

Relevant excerpts from one of my favorite songs:

I met a boy wearing Vans, 501s, and a
Dope Beastie t, nipple rings, and
New tattoos that claimed that he
Was OGT,
From ‘92,
The first EP.

And in between
Sips of Coke
He told me that
He thought
We were sellin’ out,
Layin’ down,
Suckin’ up
To the man.

…

All you know about me is what I’ve sold you.
I sold out long before you ever heard my name.

I sold my soul to make a record,
And you bought one.

All you read and
Wear or see and
Hear on TV
Is a product
Begging for your
Fatass dirty
Dollar

So…Shut up and
Buy my new record
Send more money…

American Idol is brought to you by Old Navy, AT&T Wireless, and Coca-Cola: Real. Thanks, commercialism.

Posted 5:14 PM
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Connection | April 20, 2003

I almost went to bed without saying anything; that would have been a colossal mistake. As it happened, the tiniest, most subtle thing I did all day ended up having the greatest impact. The oft-invoked chaos theory butterfly.

Posted 10:06 PM
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20 Things You Might Not Have Known About Me | April 15, 2003

[Inspiration by the illustrious Jenny.]

  1. I sing to myself constantly, especially while walking down the halls. People make fun of me for that.
  2. Once, in Boston, I went to a bar (I was 15). Nobody tried to stop me.
  3. My hair grows really slowly, but someday it might get long.
  4. I’ve never been drunk.
  5. I totally dig accents.
  6. I can count to 10 in Korean and Japanese.
  7. I once collected coins. (I have a one-dollar coin from 1883.)
  8. I loathe nail files.
  9. I never, ever wanted to be a cop, a fireman, an astronaut, or a cowboy.
  10. I was terrified by the movie Scream when it first came out. (I had never seen a horror movie before.)
  11. When I was about 7, I had a crush on Mimi, my swimming instructor at the Y.
  12. I wish I could play guitar.
  13. I like Jennifer Connelly. I dislike white bread.
  14. I can cook, sort of. If omelettes count.
  15. I would love to be a toddler again for a while.
  16. I cry at movies.
  17. For a while after reading My Side of the Mountain, I seriously wanted to run away from home.
  18. I try to be nice to everyone.
  19. I think colored contact lenses are awesome.
  20. My birthday is approaching (nudge nudge).

Posted 6:36 PM
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Exception | February 24, 2003

A pet peeve: I love you but… [something]

When I want to complain (it doesn’t happen often), I will just get to the point and complain; but when I say ‘I love you’, it will be without exceptions or equivocations, just those three words which, more than any other three-word combination, go just fine by themselves.

Posted 12:00 PM
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Well, shit | February 4, 2003

I don’t know I’m physically capable of keeping a surprise like this for 8 weeks. The chances of me actually pulling this off are like one in a hundred, but I feel like I’ve already succeeded and I just have to tell someone and I think I’m going to burst and whoa.

—

All will be made clear in the middle of April, if I don’t crack under pressure first.

Posted 12:00 PM
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I really have zero willpower | January 20, 2003

…and I like it that way.

Thank you for placing your order with ddrdepot.com!

This email is to confirm the receipt of your recent order. Your credit card will be charged once your package ships, generally the next business day after the order is placed.

PlayStation Dance Dance  DDR-PS1001         2  15.95
Revolution DDR Pad/Mat

Posted 12:00 PM
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Joke | January 18, 2003

Q: Why are there so many love pieces written in the second person?
A: …because of you, my dear.

This one’s short: I love you, and thanks.

Posted 12:00 PM
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Vocabulary | January 4, 2003

anautoscopsis: The inability to laugh at oneself.

Posted 2:04 PM
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Resolutions | January 1, 2003

By this time next year:

  1. Smile
  2. Laugh
  3. Cry
  4. Find a job

Posted 1:49 PM
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Degenerate Youth | December 29, 2002

What has happened to children these days? They’re just not the way they used to be…

As the two wayfarers came within the precincts of the town, the children of the Puritans looked up from their play—or what passed for play with those sombre little urchins,—and spake gravely one to another:—

“Behold, verily, there is the woman of the scarlet letter; and, of a truth, moreover, there is the likeness of the scarlet letter running along by her side! Come, therefore, and let us fling mud at them!”

[Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter]

Posted 4:19 PM
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Miscellany | December 24, 2002

Various and sundry thoughts from today:

Posted 6:16 PM
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The Organic City | December 23, 2002

Certain places — crowded shopping malls, bustling downtowns, airports, highways, seen from above — always remind me of Patrick Farley’s heart-rendingly poetic description of the future:

Bloated, curvaceous structures — engineered by the same people who designed Corvette Stingrays and Yes album covers — built out of shiny fiberglass, pristine chrome, and pulsating neon light — Tomorrow’s city would be a Space Age coral reef, teeming with millions of funky life forms, its limitless nooks and enclaves seething with parties, discos, arcades, and mind-blowing good times….

Everywhere I look I see hints of this organic metropolis to come. Each back-alley vendor, each hot dog stand, each bus stop and train station, is like a tiny coral polyp, capable of surviving on its own but also inextricably linked to the entire construct. Together they form something massive and dynamic, fractal in its infinite reef-like complexity.

This is the future I see.

Posted 1:39 PM
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Valve | December 17, 2002

As the last envelope is sealed, there is a sudden exhalation of pent-up pressure, like steam rushing out of a loosened valve.

It’s all out of my hands now. (Or at least until the spring.)

Posted 6:29 PM
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Hole | November 25, 2002

I am in a hole, a hole of my own digging. Every day, the hole gets deeper; this, I cannot help. My own hands wield the shovel, but they are directed by a part of me that is beyond my control, feelings I could not prevent, even if I wanted to. No amount of persistent climbing will bring me back to the surface. The surface is still, I believe, in sight; I could reach it with a decisive leap, if I trusted myself to make such a leap, and not fall back down. Decisive is the key, here; a half-hearted leap would surely fail, this I am sure of.

Not a day goes by without my regretting missed chances to set things right when the hole was a mere dip in the ground, the necessary leap merely a step, or a hop. Every moment I waited for a more perfect opportunity to make my jump into the bright daylight, the hole deepened.

It is dark down here. I think I will find a way out soon.

Posted 8:12 PM
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Clarity | October 31, 2002

B: the only reason I ask…is because I have a while ago asked you about some personal things with you and you sort of shyed away from the subject…
Aa: i don’t remember that, exactly
Aa: but chances are, everything’s much clearer now ;-)


…being certain is a beautiful thing.

Posted 4:33 PM
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America’s… Weblog? | October 5, 2002

Our dear friends in the Department of Defense now have a site up which alleges to be the weblog of an American soldier in Aghanistan. It’s grossly puerile (“Standing outside the safe house, I was enjoying the cool Kabul weather. At about 2100, or 9 p.m., there is a nice nip in the air that reminded me of the autumn back in the Northeast U.S”), and I don’t think even the most patriotic among us believe that it is what it claims.

Also, the author insists on writing the word “soldier” with a capital ‘S’ every time. How very Orwellian.

Posted 3:03 PM
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Is a rose, is a rose, is a rose. | September 30, 2002

Dear Aaron: The following analysis describes a few qualities of your first name. There are many additional factors (legal name, nicknames, family surname, combined names, previous names, and business signature) that contribute to your entire personality - and your entire life. Order a Name Report for a full analysis.

Your name of Aaron has made you practical, systematic, and thorough. This name encourages the expression of leadership and organizational skills, shrewdness, and analytical ability. You are mathematically adept and have great patience with work of a detailed nature such as bookkeeping, accounting, or technical research. Particular about your material possessions, you keep everything you own in a good state of repair, and you budget your personal finances very carefully. Because of its matter-of-fact influence, this name limits, to some degree, your ability to be flexible and spontaneous. You tend to treat new and unfamiliar ideas with scepticism. Because of the serious, responsible qualities of your name, you must recognize the importance of a sense of humour and optimistic perspective of life. In some ways you are not overly emotional and sympathetic to others and can be shrewd and materialistic. Friends and associates may detect a lack of feeling and sympathy in their relationship with you. You see the practical side of situations and tend to deal with problems in an objective, sensible, and systematic way. That is your way of helping others through challenging situations. Being self-sufficient, you must remember that thoughtful expressions of affection toward those close to you are important. You express your appreciation for others by what you do for them rather than by what you say. Your interests and hobbies are generally along practical, technical, or scientific lines. Weaknesses in the health through stress and tension could affect the intestinal tract and related difficulties or could cause prostate problems.

Intestinal tract, huh? Damned Kabalarian Philosophy.

*edit* Wait just a minute: looks like it gets more specific than that.

The first name of Aaron-matthew creates a dual nature for, on the one hand, you desire change and varied experiences in order to avoid monotony, and yet you are attuned to system, order, and attention to detail. You can be very analytical, exacting, and patient in your undertakings until your interest is exhausted, at which time you switch to something else even though it means leaving your undertakings unfinished. This name makes you inquisitive and scientific in your approach to life, requiring everything to be proved to satisfy your skepticism. You can be a stickler for detail, and very fussy and particular. As spontaneous verbal expression can be difficult for you, you often feel awkward and embarrassed in situations requiring tact and diplomacy. This name creates strong physical desires, such as an appetite for heavy, starchy foods and meat. Tension affecting the solar plexus and digestive organs could lead to ulcers, growths, or constipation.

*ahem*

Posted 6:09 PM
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Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long. | September 8, 2002

Life is a constant and exhausting search for that rare thing which is really and truly worth saying.

I am an exceptionally silent person.

Posted 7:30 PM
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American Idolatry | September 7, 2002

The Washington Post reported on Wednesday that Fox had made arrangements for the winner of the series American Idol to sing the national anthem at the Lincoln Memorial for the September 11 commeration ceremony. Says Lisa de Moraes:

The decision as to which contestant — bubbly tune-belting Texan Kelly Clarkson or less talented but enormously coiffed Justin Guarini — gets to turn this important site into just another cog in the Great American Idol Marketing Mandala is in the hands of the millions of girls who have made “American Idol” a hit, attracting about 18 million viewers last week.

I must say, I don’t understand what the supposed outrage is about. It’s not newsworthy that a pop star is singing the national anthem at a national ceremony, even a memorial ceremony. What difference does it make that she began on a television program, vice some other path to stardom?

I mean honestly. At least it’s not John Ashcroft singing. If _that_ happens again, the terrorists really will have won.

Posted 1:08 PM
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Irony | August 8, 2002

On NPR today, President Bush was quoted as saying - referring, presumably, to Iraq - that “countries making weapons of mass destruction present a real threat.”

I guess that means the United States is its own greatest threat. How appropriate.

Posted 12:25 PM
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Concinnity | August 5, 2002

con·cin·ni·ty n.
1. Harmony or elegance of design, as in the arrangement of parts with respect to a whole or each other.
2. Studied elegance and facility in style of expression.
3. An instance of harmonious arrangement or studied elegance and facility.

—
A gem from my Word of the Day calendar. If someone ever uses that word to describe something I’ve created (without my suggestion, of course), I will be ecstatic. It’s like some Stephensonian artifex.

Posted 1:45 PM
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Interesting | July 9, 2002

Do any of you really think Jesus was a Conservative…or is it more likely he may have been a Progressive? let’s see, Jesus was a pacifst, the inventor of non-violent protest, his economic theory if any was more Socialist then Captalist.. Do you think Jesus would have been pro-gun? Not likely…y’all may be batting for the wrong team.. …I just don’t see the “Prince of Peace” voting with the GOP on any issue other then Pro-Life.

(blatantly stolen from Thela)

Posted 12:43 AM
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Dream, Dream, Dream | June 29, 2002

I sometimes - fairly often, I would say - have a moment in my dream, right before the alarm clock rings, where I know that the alarm clock is about to ring. And then it always does, and I wake up and wonder how I knew that in my sleep. I have given it a fair amount of thought (during my waking hours), and can think of a couple plausible explanations.

When the alarm clock goes off, there is a short delay before it actually starts making the alarm noise. It makes a sort of static-like clicking noise, and then there is about a half-second pause before the shrieking begins. It is generally believed that our minds are fairly lucid and unencumbered during late stages of dreaming - perhaps, in this state, I can react to the click and think to myself, “Hey, the alarm is going off in half a second,” all before it happens.

Another possibility is that I have a superb internal sense of time which is accessible to me only in my sleep, and when I wake up, I can’t even accurately gauge a minute. I’d be like a superhero who’s someone ordinary during the day, only my power would only be while I sleep.

A third possibility is that from the instant I fall asleep, I start thinking “the alarm’s about to go off,” nonstop, just thinking that one thought. That way, I always think it the instant before it really happens, and then I forget about all the other times I thought it. This strikes me as a depressing way to dream.

Posted 5:20 PM
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Tremor | May 30, 2002

I have an intention tremor. This means that my hands shake – all the time. People tend to mistake it for nervousness, which it is not. (It’s actually just one of several things about me that tend to give the false impression of perpetual nervousness – I also crack my knuckles a great deal, and drum on any nearby surface.) Some days are worse than others for the tremor – especially if I have not slept well. Today is a particularly bad day – it’s funny like that.

By and large it has little effect other than being frustrating. It means I have to use two hands to do something like screw in a screw, or else my shaking will make it fall to the floor. It also severely limits my career options kin the field of surgery.

My intention tremor is one reason (one of many) that I will never touch a cigarette. I have this fear in my mind that nicotine would make my shaking go away – as it has been known to do – and this would make cigarettes hopelessly attractive to me. It is a baseless nightmare, really – I would eventually realize that the smoking just makes the tremor worse and worse over time – but I am afraid nonetheless.

I have genetics to thank for my intention tremor – my mother has one, as do both her parents. My grandfather’s is the worst of all, to the point where he has great difficulty manipulating a mouse. If fear that fate as well, although with any luck, mice will be obsolete before I reach that ripe old age. I suppose I should not be too bitter at genetics for giving me a tremor – after all, it has also provided me with many things I would not care to be without, such as, to name a random example, a brain.

Posted 6:55 PM
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