Today, Ryan and I walked around Boston, chatting about the project and other things. One of the things that kept coming up was the difficulties we face with apathy about things that we WANT to care about. So I wrote this poem. I also took a bunch of cool pictures which I’m excited to show you! Maybe I’ll do a little extra this week, but for now, please enjoy the poem!
I hope to have my HD camera up and running soon… but for now this will suffice!
I recently encountered a few troubling letters to the editor in a newspaper that I read daily on my trip to work. It turned into quite the project, which you can read in full here! http://hilltopsunset.com/post/52188311639/letter-to-the-editor-about-sex
That’s my blog/main website, in case you didn’t already know. ;DDDD!!!
I don’t really have too much to say here since the whole situation is explained on the blog… :3 Also I still have to actually…you know…send something to the editor that is publishable and under 100 words. Challenge accepted. Maybe I’ll just say “read this blog post.” and post the link. Sounds good to me.
Today’s project is a little bit unusual, and sort of breaks the spirit of this project entirely (I’m sorry). In anticipation of this project, I purchased a new video camera that films in HD! However, I did not realize at the time that the unfortunate truth is I do not own any video software that can edit HD video. So until I solve that problem, no video projects.
As most of you know, during the sun-shiny hours (you know, when it’s nice out), I build websites. Today’s project was inspired by my friend Matt, who is also a web developer who just graduated from college. He made a silly site that made me laugh. You should check it out.
Well, anyway, as a crazy web guy myself, I wanted to help him out, so I ended up making something similar that he could use. One one hand it’s less entertaining, but on the other hand, it opens up a WORLD of POSSIBILITIES. Maybe I’ll still use it for something more creative myself, but for now it is what it is. Here it is:
http://christhebrews.github.io/libTTS
Even though this isn’t artistic or exciting, it is pretty interesting and I had a lot of fun with it. If you’ve ever done anything with coding you should at least look at it, it’s kind of silly anyway. And if you ever use text-to-speech in a web project, WELL, now you have a library to do that for you.
Haha, I’ll be back to normal creative stuff next time!
Today I went with my pal and coworker Ramon to the Boston Museum of Science! I had been wanting to go there for some time now–in fact we didn’t stay all that long and only saw about 1/3 of the things so I still want to go back sometime. But anyway, he had free tickets and offered me one, so OF COURSE I jumped all ova dat, word.
So while we were there we found these…things. They had this magnetic pallet on which you could arrange different colored metal bead chain…things. You know, the ones you use as necklaces or bracelets. But yeah, I made something.
Also, Ramon made one too.
But while I was uploading images from my cellular bananaphone, I thought, “Hey, guy me, why not show some other funny images that I/you had previously stumbled upon like that outdated website?” And I thought then in answer to myself, “yes.”
Also this, for all you Greek mythology buffs out there (Scott you best be readin’ this shiz)
Hey guys!
Yesterday, while I was searching through my notebooks and trying to figure out what I could make today, I came across one of my old notebooks from school. I didn’t realize that I had any of these with me—honestly I’m pretty surprised that it wasn’t at my parents’ house. Well, my curiosity got the best of me, so I took a look through it, and I quickly discovered that it was REALLY old: I hadn’t written in it since I was in first grade, way back in 1994.
It’s filled with “diary” entries that a 6 year old would write, mostly about friends and sports and my brothers and a lot of spelling errors that I won’t even try to correct, stuff like:
“April 9, [1994]: Me and Kevin trew [threw] a base ball. Then Mom told us we had to eat and we did. Then Joe came over.”
It’s filled with stuff like that. Well, almost. The entries go on:
“April 26 [or 28 maybe? Can’t tell], 1994: Mike came over my house today. He brot [brought] a fotball [sic] and we threw it. It was fun. Joe wanted to play but he coldnt [couldn’t].”
Reading old stuff you’ve written is always strange. You don’t remember any of the things you wrote about, and frankly, the subject matter is so ordinary that it feels like it could have happened pretty much any day. But, even though I don’t remember what happened, I still remember most of the people I was with, and even some of the feelings expressed in these entries.
“May 10, 1994: Today I went to Joe’s and we watch a movie. It was sceery. Mom was mad.”
But I don’t remember Joe.
“June 3, [1994]: Today was a fun day. Then joe came over.”
I’ve wracked my brain, but I have no idea who Joe is. And yet, he’s in so many of these entries. At first I thought he must have just been one of the kids in my grade (I’m sure there was at least one Joe), but I don’t remember being this close of friends with any of them. Maybe I was… I don’t know. I texted my mother to see if she remembered my hanging out with anyone named Joe. I was sure that she would have to know.
“June 18 [or 19], 1994: Today was the last day [of school, I guess?]! we had a haf day. Joe brought me home and I swam in a pool.”
But my mom didn’t know. “You weren’t friends with anyone named Joe.” What? I can’t imagine that my mother wouldn’t have been around when I was 6. How did she not remember who Joe was?
“June 18 [or 19], 1994: Me and Joe and Mike were in the woods today. We played with stiks. Joe hit me and made my hand bled. It hurts.”
Hmm. Well, after a bit of searching yesterday, I was able to find a phone number for Mike’s mother. I called. When she didn’t pick up, I left a voice message. Sort of awkwardly, I asked how Mike was doing and how things were. But I didn’t mention Joe.
“June 25, 1994: joe told me i coudnt see Mike anymore. I was vary sad and cried.”
Today, when I woke up, I quickly found that a text message had been left on my phone. I figured it was from Mike’s mom, or maybe from Mike. I didn’t know exactly who sent it. But it said:
“Please do not call again.”
“July 1, 1994: did you know that the woods is very dark at nite? i had to go there, it was vary alown [alone?]”
Then Mike called.
His voice sounded like he was whispering, but he spoke quickly, as if he needed to get off the line as soon as he could. As if someone were listening. After some time rambling, I finally asked him directly,
“What’s going on? Who is Joe?”
He paused for a second, I thought he was going to hang up. Then he said:
“When we were kids you used to always talk about this guy who you hung out with. I guess you could say he was an imaginary friend? You called him Joe. I always thought it was a joke, but it really started to weird me out. Finally, you stopped talking about him.
“But then, a couple years later, my sister, Ann, who was younger than us, started talking about some guy named Joe. That really freaked me out but I still didn’t know what… what was happening.
“And then, the day before her birthday, she disappeared. She just… I don’t know. I don’t know what to think.”
“July 18, 1994: today I saw joe. He sayd it was fun. I beleved him. He sayd I did it. He did not scarre me today”
This is the last entry that mentions Joe.
“July 19, 1994: today I had the best birthday party ever!”
I decided to do some writing today, so what I did was told myself I have a single page of space to write with, and once I’m done, that’s it. It seems appropriate, given the limitation, that the story end up being about a woman attempting to flee a building in order to escape self-inflicted impending doom.
The explosion was louder than any fireworks Kali had ever heard. Her heart dove deep into her chest as a breath was forced out of her lungs, her eyes were wide with terror. The foundation of the maze-like complex shook violently beneath Kali’s feet, causing her to stumble and collapse onto the hard linoleum floor. Fireworks, she thought to herself, those were some fucking fireworks. That was what Thomas had said it would be like. Big fireworks to put the government in their place, to show them they meant business. But Thomas was safe outside with the others, helping to evacuate the entire building and get them all to safety. This wasn’t about killing people, after all; it was about making a statement, even if there were a couple of individuals whom she would have liked to keep in the building. But from where he was, it probably did just sound like distant fireworks.
Kali whipped her phone up to her face so that she could see the time. It was only 5:39. The bomb shouldn’t have detonated for another 21 minutes. That was her escape time, time enough for her to leisurely find her way out. Thomas had given her the plan views for the complicated, multi-layered secret basement below the president’s office several weeks ago, instructing her to study it and plan an escape route. But she didn’t. She figured it was pointless since there would be no one there to get in her way after the evacuation. She couldn’t find the time to bother with meaningless studying. She was about efficiency, not trifles. But now, with hectic fear and panic rapidly closing in, she was forgetting how she had even gotten into the building in the first place and began to regret not studying the map. She was on her feet and running down the dark, wide hallway before she could think of what to do.
Everything was still shaking, and most of the lights in the hallway had been shattered by the blast. She couldn’t help but think she must have set the timer incorrectly. How stupid! How fucking professional for a software engineer! That was her whole purpose in this vigilante group of morons! She couldn’t suppress a bitter puff of laughter. The irony, she thought.
Another blast, this time even closer.
Of course, in her infinite wisdom, Kali had decided to plant the furthest bomb from her escape last. There were 7 bombs in all, spread throughout the complex. It had taken the better part of the day sneaking about without getting caught, setting each one up. It had been a tremendous pain getting through some of the security checkpoints, but she had done it. And the other idiots somehow managed to succeed in the evacuation. Everything was so perfect up until now.
The next bomb to go off would be a bit further away, if she remembered correctly. Her lungs burned and her leg muscles felt like they were about to rip, but she had to keep moving.
She began blaming herself for everything: the bomb, the plan to do this rash act of terror, the whole situation, the death of her husband, everything. Her bitterness toward the government was suddenly growing weak, it didn’t even matter anymore. But what about everyone else? This could potentially lead to better things for the people, show the government that everyone is sick and tired of the deceit, the lies, the empty promises, the favoritism. If no one else was going to stand up to this problem, it had to be the vigilantes of BLAP, Better Lives for All People.
The third bomb echoed through the hallways.
Kali had always felt like this whole operation was dependent on her, and now, knowing that she might not get out alive, she felt an overwhelming importance building in her chest. This message couldn’t have been delivered without her expertise, without her cunning or her rashness. This blow would be lasting, one that could change the direction of the future forever. And it was all thanks to her. She would be remembered as a heroine, exalted as a savior.
But was that as important as life?
No.
Of course not.
Kali much preferred living, even if it meant going to jail for the rest of her life. She hadn’t even been through her mid-life crisis yet for Christ’s sake. It wasn’t time to sit back and be subservient once again, as usual. It was time to be strong, stand up, and fight back. For everyone she loved, and everyone who cared about her. It was time to—
Boom.