Gemini* and Gopher

• Personal/Opinions

  • BENEATH THE COTTONWOOD 1

    My friend and I have been sort of illegally camping out at a small patch of DNR hunting land, a place about equidistant between our cities. The soil is dark and sandy, speaking to the rich biodiversity of flora, the grandeur of the giant trees overhead, the sweet calls of mallards, marsh wrens, towhees, and all of the variety of herbaceous plants underfeet. The soil is glacial till, the remains of many tens of thousands of years of powerful erosion from the last glacial maximum, where my home would have been covered by a mile of ice. These cold mountains dragged untold millions of tons of volcanic and quartziferous rock from the Canadian shield south to the Midwest, flattening out the terrain as it went, gradually melting and releasing these deposits wherever they traveled.

  • All Initiation Is Intimacy, but Not All Intimacy Is Initiation

    Consider: I may be great lifelong friends with someone and know their lives through and through, but that doesn't entitle me to legal rights to them, tax benefits with them, or inheritance from them, whether by their own will, the will of others in their life, or by the will of various legal entities that preside over us. That's what marriage is for, which is a different kind of relationship—or, rather, an officialization of relationship, a sort of explicitly witnessed recognition of our relationship that we both agree to. One can be in a long-term relationship with someone, whether as friends or as romantic partners, but without a sort of explicit license and officialization, what we might have might be good for us, but others with a stake in certain results of relationship might not deign to consider us as being friends or partners from their perspective.

  • The Magic of Walking

    Although it was windy and freezing cold overnight, today it's sunny and warmed up to where it's, although not exactly balmy, perfectly pleasant walking weather as long as one puts on a jacket. We're reaching the time of year where it's on the brink of twilight by the time I'm finished with work, so if I'm going to get in a walk, it has to be on my lunch break. So today I just took a walk up and down my street over lunch.

    I've always liked walking, but as I get older, I find myself appreciating it even more. There's something really magical about walking in the woods or along a quiet country lane, especially in cool (but not freezing-cold) weather. The crisp air, a light breeze contrasted by the warmth of the sun, the strangely refreshing feeling of frost-kissed grass, glancing over and seeing your long shadow cast by the low winter sun. The only sounds the steady fall of your footsteps and your own quiet breathing, punctuated by occasional sounds of nature.

  • "Please allow me to introduce myself"

    I realized that I kind of plopped a bunch of text into the Pub without the customary greetings and salutations, so let me get that in order now.

    Hi, I am Evan, or you can call me Classy, or The Bog Boy, or Stupid, I don't really care. I have no formal tech experience, and I'm not sure if this will set me far apart from others here or if I'll be in good company that way, but regardless, I definitely find tech and coding interesting, but from more of an outsider's perspective. I have a hard enough time wrapping my head around calibration files, let alone properly writing code, so I leave that to people better suited for such tasks.

• Technology and Free Software

  • Internet/Gemini

    • Wednesday 13 November

      I finally got back into tilde.club and my Gemini space after getting a new computer. I want to carry on using this space for writing thoughts but I need to explore different ways oto create this log. It's lunchtime so I had better head out.

  • Misc.

    • Lest We Forget

      I must admit, I've been somewhat remiss in recent years when it comes to attending the local Remembrance Day ceremonies. No good reason, "too busy" or "really don't want to stand in the rain for an hour" topped my list of excuses. This year was different; for the first time in a while I felt it was something I wanted to do, more of a privilege than an obligation.

      In times of uncertainty, rituals of long standing take on greater importance. And over my lifetime, this ritual goes back a long way. I remember as a very young child looking on with limited comprehension as what seemed to me then a succession of very, very old men in dark overcoats spoke solemnly and laid wreaths at our local cenotaph, punctuated by bagpipe and bugle. I know today that many of those men, survivors of the first world war, were scarcely older than I am now. All since gone under the hill, along with most of those who bore witness to WW2. Sadly, combatants in other wars have since come to take their place; there is no end to it.