THINKING

Thinking...

Thinking...

Thinking...


Back in the halcyon days of my youth, (known to historians and geologists alike as the early triassic) before things like mp3 players, touch screens, 4G, Justin Beiber, and things requiring 1.21 gigawatts existed - i would go to computer class, and type on machines slightly smaller than the eniac. The dark ages of personal computing. My elementary school had a set of Apple IIe computers, and while they were exciting to play with, they were dreadfully slow. Printing (remember dot matrix printers?) took quite a while, and it was nothing for the printer to pause in the middle of the job to "think." The machines were blessed with an "astounding" 1.0x MHz processor and 64kb of RAM (contrast with the current industry standard of at least a 2 GHz processor and 4GB of RAM) and so it makes sense that between input and output there was a bit of... lag. lol.

If i recall correctly, i went through puberty waiting for the printer to complete printing my fifth grade's classroom newspaper.

But my aim is not to provide a written(typed) anodyne caused by wading through the detritous trivia of my past, yapping about my fond memories of Mrs. Skolnick's (my computer teacher from 3-8th grade) computer class. (Making banners was the sure shot though!) Really, all that prelude was to tell you all that im still here, i still consider myself a blogger (albeit a sporadic one) and i hope i haven't lost all my readers to attrition. Im just in the midst of a thinking period, like the computers of yore. Unfortunately thinking does not put up blog entries, which means lag time and the inevitable...

Blog funk.

Its a heavy cloying funk, kinda like this moist air that is around tonight - whose intent, i surmise, must be to threaten and ruin everything for which my hair stands. That funk found in back woods juke joints were everything is close and damp and musty, The funk where the downbeat is amplified and extended and all you can do is just stand there and make that "funk face" because the groove is just so dirty...

That kind of funk.

But despite the funk, i've got a lot on my mind (ooh its juicy too!), and even now, as i compose this, im feeling a writing jones come on. Perhaps the torrents will rush forth this week.

Maybe.

Anyway, until i make my next entry (tomorrow? next week? a fortnight? a month... year?) Humor me and tell me your type. I'll even tell you mine :-)


And when you're done that, put on your best funk face and rock to this:

Lyn Collins - Think