Jackwillhavetodo: November 2006

Sage conseil.

If no one picks up on the political relevance of this one I will truly begin to wonder.

Merci Gilles et Marthe.

violence hurts.

Spending time somewhere kind of makes it a part of oneself. The box on the left with the XP tag hasn't had Windows in it since a few days after coming in through the door. Today it has Suse 10.1 and 10.0 and I think a 9.3 too but this last has not been used for a while. It is mounted from time to time to do backups. There are a couple of hundred G's of disk space with 1.5 G's of memory with a too small CPU but I hardly use any real energy hogs. I just play with large files every now and then.

As for this place being part of me, it has my mark but it is inside of the machine where I can be found most clearly. Everything there is for my work or my life. Life has one file in home and sundry backup life files. Work has every other file on the machine the operating system hasn't claimed. So what is the point?

My work is an examination of violence. Real violence, not the comic nonsense so many are involved in today. The Iraqis are getting close to the kind of thing I study and research but they are still a long way from the real thing even if the suffering of the victims is the same, one way or the other, amateur or professional.

You are what you do. Even better, you are who you make believe you are. Violence takes a toll but it is what I do. Even this Blog is part of what I do. This is a warm up for what is intended as the real show on another site. The idea is to publish a little and see how it flies.

That's the idea anyway.

The photo machine.

People once had one name. Then characteristics or attributes were added to this one name. Grand Michele, Mercenary Mike, Cowboy Bob and Jack the American are a few composite names from my past. Other names of this sort are Robin des Bois and Jack l'éventreur. One name came to not be enough even with a modifier. Classification collectively turned to occupations and locale. Stoneypoint, Steinman, Drapier and Montjoie are a few of this sort to have bumped past over the years. Still not enough we now resort to photographs of our very own selves to assure the body before anonymous inquisitors is in fact who we think ourselves to be.

Merci Colette for the picture of a humble fellow making a living off our society's insecurity.

One more time.

The foto, or photo that started this off.

It is posted again because no one seems to have picked up on the anger on these pages.

So, who is at fault?

The place is Colette's flat up the hill a bit from our little cottage. Appropriately, being involved with history, the date on the first published picture is very wrong, so I am told.

Is it of worth to express anger? Once expressed, need it be heard? And what is anger anyway? Is it weakness? Is anger a flavor of uncomprehending awe? Is it a final protest before watching things inevitably play out the only way they can?

Anger is probably just pique more of you do not share my sense of humor.