Yeah, well, is it a surprise to anyone? (Hell, is there anyone that's actually going to read this entry??)

Let's face it: the writing had been on the wall (so to speak) since early this year; some sputters and spurts of inspiration kept things going for a little while, but by Spring time I think it was self-evident that the drive that kept this blog going just wasn't with me anymore. For me, the clincher came 'round June when I realized I had things worth writing about and no desire to sit down and post about it. The '05 model of the Wire wasn't a strong as the earlier versions, and . . . well . . . what can you do?

This is the 420th post. In its first year, from August '03 to August '04, I wrote 300. I think the writing on the wall really started last fall when I began my Mostly Weekly blogging, but it picked up now and again and . . .

Oh, fuck the retrospective. You'd think it was a fucking eulogy or something.

This was my blog. I started it because I had things I wanted to say, whether anybody wanted to read them or not; whether they had any value or not. I don't think I've said it all, but obviously I've said enough. It had some good moments, more than a few really dumb moments, and I think once a month I managed something that could be charitably described as insightful. It also contained enough grammatical errors to shame my seventh-grade English teacher, but what do you expect? For a blog about absolutely nothing, I think it managed pretty well.

This is not the end. Closure is for pussies. Maybe someday I'll resurrect this thing; or perhaps I'll turn it into a 15-year-old diary and only post when I'm feeling depressed and self-centered. (As opposed to when this blog was active and my posts were made when I was happy and self-centered.)

The archives remain open, and so do the comments, because I am that egotistical. May I particularly recommend Ouroborous and the Art of Name Dropping which might be my hands-down favorite post out of all previous 419. But feel free to peruse the rest; trust me, there are a few worth reading.

My thanks to everyone that read this thing, and especially to those motivated enough to tell me that they read it, and most importantly to the handful that not only admitted that they read it, but admitted that they actually liked it. I did it all for me, but I'm glad you came along for the ride.

This was the Electric Wire. You can go home now.

But I'd still keep those pocket knives handy, just to be safe....

When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.--Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States.To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

They came on to the stage with no fanfare. They barely spoke to the audience. But for the first time in 25 years, the "classic" Pink Floyd line-up performed, with a little help from some friends.

They barely acknowledged the crowd. Hardly surprising, given that they were never exactly the most personable bands. Waters has lost his voice completely. He does this raspy whisper instead, and it's a good thing the set-list included mostly Gilmour-on-vocals. Not that Gilmour hasn't lost a bit with age, but it was certainly passable.

I think if Gilmour could've shoved his guitar through Waters' skull, he would have. Waters, for his part, was having a ball. From the concert alone, I'd have to say Waters was the one who was most enjoying things, probably getting an immense kick that a Waters-included Floyd still trumps the Gilmour-led version. There was little acknowledgement of any of the members to one another; which should settle the question of a reunion tour once and for all.

Waters did acknowledge that it was good to be on-stage with "these three guys" again. That Waters was the front-man for the show (despite Gilmour doing the singing) was interesting, and I think further reflects where Gilmour's feelings were in all of this. Waters also dedicated "Wish You Were Here" to all the people not around anymore (dead musicians and dead Africans was the implication I got) but he also added "and of course, Syd" so the Floyd Fanantic in me was glad to see the spirit (or spector) of Syd was there, even if Barrett wasn't physically in attendance.

For the record, the set-list was: "Breathe", "Money", "Wish You Were Here", and "Comfortably Numb". I think the only surprise was "Breathe". Online set lists (announced before the concert) only included three songs, with some lists including "Money" and some "Breathe", so it was a nice treat to get both. I guess Floyd has some clout.

Still, I couldn't help but get the impression that Floyd was an anachronism in this show. Even with veterans like the Who going on before them, at least Daltrey and Townshed had some energy and seemed to acknowledge the audience. Floyd seemed more like a curiosity. Four aged rockers, heads bowed as if trying not to think of the hundreds of thousands of people in front of them (Except for, ironically, Waters), playing because they couldn't back out of a promise, not because their hearts were in it.

But what the hell. After 25 years, I don't think a Floyd fan can afford to be picky. I didn't expect Floyd to ever perform again, let alone with Waters, so let the notalgia buff a glossy sheen over a very tarnished present.

It was worth it.

OK, yeah, that "uncompromising vision" hyperbole is crap; I understand John Q Publick will recognize "the creators of The Matrix" more than they would Alan Moore, but given how much compromise this film has, it's laughable at that alone. But the image and the top text is a real beaut. All you people out there take note: my birthday's in six weeks. This poster would be one hell of a birthday gift.....

The V forum's been a little off it's game lately, but today they've started a thread that is back to their usual standards of brilliance, and snarkiness, with a mix of irreverance and intelligence. (But not hyperbole.)

V: The board has started a thread that lists all the racist subtext in various movies. Just forty posts long, this already includes such gems as:


In MEN IN BLACK 2 they have to bring back Tommy Lee Jones because it's clear The Man doesn't believe a black man can get the job done without whitey's help.

Pirates of the Caribbean is racist because it clearly implies that, while white pearls are fine and good, freaky black pearls are cursed.

THE CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON is obviously representative of how whitey feels about ethnic neighbourhoods.

The suave and attractive Billy Dee Williams was Harvey Dent in BATMAN, but by BATMAN FOREVER he'd been jettisoned in favour of a cackling white Tommy Lee Jones.

Denzel Washington doesn't even kiss romantic interest Julia Roberts in THE PELICAN BRIEF.

In DANCES WITH WOLVES, the barbaric treatment of Native Americans is really hard on Kevin Costner.

TERMINATOR 2: A black man is responsible for Skynet and eventually, the destruction of the world as we know it.

Disney's Tarzan: A magical AFrican dreamland devoid of Black people. First white [person] to step foot in the jungle is declared KING.

INDEPENDENCE DAY: A screed against illegal aliens if ever there was one. RACIST!

CINDERELLA - she's kicked to the curb and treated like dirt when she's all covered in ashes and her skin is darker, but once she's cleaned up and sparkly white again? HELLO PRINCE CHARMING.

Lord of the Rings: Who are the vile enemies of the Army of the Last Anglo Hope? The only non-white humans you see in the entire trilogy.

Yes, yes, you must join Delphi to see the thread, but goddammit, for the umteenth time, the V is so worth the five seconds it'll take for you to join. Get thee hence!!

I missed the Solstice this year.

As I know I've muttered about elsewhere, my time management skills have gone to shit these last few months. So while a more orderly person would have scheduled himself properly to allow himself time to enjoy the longest day of the year, yours trully has spent the extra sunlight glued to his computer working on designs for a Bright-Matrix client.

Now, I know, as my cousin Kenny pointed out last year, technically speaking, today's Solstice is not the actual longest day of the year. According to the website Ken told me about, we actually get a whole minute more sunlight tomorrow (and the next few days) than we did today. But that's as may be, but today is still Solstice, and the First Day of Summer, and it should be commemorated in ways better than me cursing out Macromedia's Fireworks for not rendering it's pixels the way I need it to.

On the bright side, today was absolutely perfect. Mid eighties, very little humidity. A gorgeous Summer day. I went out to lunch with some co-workers and playfully asked my supervisor if I could work the rest of the afternoon outside. And I was very happy to have gotten back into my regular walking route (I started up again yesterday, not having walked--thanks to my Albany trip--since the 9th of June.) There isn't as lovely a park as the ones up where I used to live; the land down here is dissapointingly flat; if I want real hills and valleys I'll have to drive into Pennsylvania and visit Valley Forge. So there couldn't have been any "back to nature" moment like I had last year. But even so, it would've been nice to grab my book and sit out on my patio, enjoying the fact that I could read until 8:30 without aid of electric light.

But no. I had to procrastinate yesterday, and as I recouped from my walk (which seems to be leaving me practically comatose for a solid hour after the fact, which leads me to question just how healthy this is; Lord knows I'm probably doing something wrong. How one can mess up something as simple as walking I am unsure--but that's jsut all the more reason to doubt whether I'm doing it right in the first place. But I digress....) I decided to spend the time web surfing rather than working, so it's not like I could have even afforded myself an appropriately timed break to enjoy the sunset.

But hey. Tomorrow's another (sixty-second-longer) day so I can always go out and read tomorrow. And according to Ken's site, there's only going to be about a sixteen minute drop in daylight between July 1 and July 30, so I still have plenty of daylight ahead.

Regardless: it's mid-year. This Sunday will be exactly six months (to the date and day that I've moved down to Maple Shade. I'd be less than honest if I said it's been a rip-roaring success, socially speaking, and that is a subject for another blog entry, or judicious use of Setec Astronomy while I sort through the logistics of building a social life from near scratch. But All in all . . . the job is good, the apartment is good, the area is nice . . . there are trully worse fates than the one I'm experiencing at the moment.

Ah well. Time to do a minor polish on the site designs and then I'll relax a bit more before calling it a night.