Dave “Mahrin Skel” Rickey,

Dave “Mahrin Skel” Rickey, speaking only for himself. Yes, that’s hosted here at casa del lum. You too can be hosted at brokentoys.org, assuming you actually work with me and constantly nag me about database geekery and don’t already have a website and… well, no, you too can’t be hosted. Sorry. Offer void in Northern Virginia.

He’s already posted a lot, which guilt tripped me into updating. It won’t last. Heck, even Ronald McDonald posts more than I do now. Being profound on cue is hard.

From waterth

From waterthread‘s forums, “We play these games to interact with other people“.

-+-

Also from wt, eBay insurance, for stuff eBay doesn’t insure. True story: I tried to buy an EQ account once. I got ripped off (“um, I’ll give you the character, but I need to finish selling his stuff first, k?”), but managed to browbeat the person into giving my money back. I still have a black mark on my eBay record from the experience. So does he. I don’t play EQ any more.

IT LIVES.

So, I have been letting this blog decay into a state of nothingness. Leaving you all with STROM THURMAND BLEEDING DECAYING ISOTOPES. “Errrrgh” And to think, that was before Trent Lott decided that he had been leader of the Majority long enough and decided to specify exactly which majority he thought he was leading. It’s all connected.

Blogs are personal, and I’m used to writing in an impersonal personal fashion. With a first person writing style that makes you think that you’re in a really meaningful conversation, but not actually telling you anything meaningful.

So now I actually am writing less impersonally. How do I do that? I spent years cracking jokes at a specific micro-community. I guess I could tighten the focus and start cracking jokes at myself. “Heh, that sure is one big pile of Diet Coke bottles by your desk!” “Damn, you were a whiny wuss wiping snow off your car this morning!” “Why are you typing into a webpage instead of taking lunch like a normal person?”

It’s all connected.

I keep waking up every morning, I keep getting older. I don’t have much of a choice.

I realize I should be doing more productive things, something besides staring at a screen. All day long, at work, at home, at play. Staring at a screen, syncing my eyes to an 80hz refresh rate.

Except what? How is this different from the other 1500 people in my complex, or 50,000 in my town? Hiding in corners, waiting for the snowfall to melt, although not much would change if it did.

“Get out! Do stuff!” I used to do that. A lot. Most of it involved drinking heavily, or worse. I decided I didn’t care for the person I became.

Welcome to the new year, and check your shadows at the door.