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Musings
Recently I've found myself thinking a lot about solipsism, which appeals to the part of me that adores irony, how its this recursive and impossible to disprove concept like an argument with someone where you both know you can't win it like it was a videogame and you both wish you'd saved just before you started the topic so you could revert back to your saved game and steer the discourse somewhere else.
This is the same part of me that dwells in schadenfreud when he sees a colleague transfer only his playlists and not his actual music tracks from an old work PC to a brand spanking new one. The old one is taken away for reformating and all he has are the lists of everything he's lost. So he hooks up his iPod to the new machine thinking that he'll be able to pull the music off his iPod onto the new machine and his fresh install of iTunes resynchs his iPod, erasing the only remaining copy of all his music.
Sometimes I wonder why I don't do this blogging thing where you address an audience and instead focus on refining fictional writing and attempts at distilling humor out of things only I seem to find funny. Like, recently I saw a nature documentary where they revealed that enough penguins in one place turns rockfaces red with their shit, and yet pigeons are confined to shitting in black and white and it appealed to me, it seemed to show that nature had this perverse sense of humor; that penguins, birds that exist in black and white, shit in color, and pigeons in their technicolor lives are stuck shitting in black and white. Nobody else thought it was funny.
I haven't made up my mind on solipsism yet. And I've decided that neither have you.
Dec. 6.2006