Trompé Setsuled (setsuled) wrote,
Trompé Setsuled
setsuled

Orange Spiders and Infinite Grains of Candy Sand

Twitter Sonnet #30

I only want one very long hour.
Fluttering slow as the rubber bat flies.
Yesterday's tea seems to have gone sour.
Most minotaurs are terribly bad spies.
Hard not to notice the stomping outside.
And it's impossible to sleep with it.
At least werewolves will have a useful hide.
Though it's not quite keen as a nun's habit.
I walked through a web before the front door.
And a big mad spider dropped behind me.
My ambition's to fall asleep by four.
But the night's too nice a stimulus sea.
Daytime's insisting on my attention.
Night still sends agents too strange to mention.


Yesterday I felt so strangely blank. I couldn't quite seem to react to anything, I think I finally became a vegetable. I went for a walk in the late afternoon, ate lunch at the Greek place and played chess on my iPod while I was waiting. It was the first time I can remember really coming close to beating the iPod--the main problem against a computer is that sacrificing tactics tend not to work. Doing something audacious, like sacrificing a knight to take out a pawn, tends not to cause uncertainty in a computer opponent the way it does a human. Failures of psychological tactics are one of the sure ways you can tell someone you're playing against online is using a computer programme.

One shouldn't walk and play chess, by the way--I was concentrating so hard on the game I didn't notice Snow the cat happily following me into the house.

But the game didn't get my mind working well enough to get real work done on the next Venia's Travels script. I didn't get any writing momentum until I walked to Denny's at around 11:30, where I wrote a few pages I was very happy with. When I came back, I walked straight into a spider web stretched across the path to the front door. I looked back to see the big orange spider angrily lowering himself to the ground, remaking the strands I'd torn. For some reason I heard Gloucester from King Lear in my head saying, "'Twas most ignobly done, to pluck me by the beard!"

I took some video;



The music's from the Sayonara Zetsubo Sensei soundtrack.

None of the still photos I took came out because the wind was moving him around too much. I was looking into the focus options on my camera later last night, and got frustrated with what seems to be too many automatic preset configurations in place of a simple dial that might allow me to adjust focus manually. Neil Gaiman linked in his blog last night to this article by Kyle Cassidy about depth of field and I'm wondering if the lens he mentions might be one I can actually buy and attach to my camera. Something I might look into on a day when I have more time.

I watched "Weird Al" Yankovic's new video to-day, a Doors pastiche that features Doors' keyboardist Ray Manzarek on keyboards. Maybe I'm overthinking it, but I didn't find the song and video funny so much as very interesting. It seems to me a provoking juxtaposition of The Doors/late 1960s belief in spiritual meaning and mystery found through sexual experimentation with the oddly mundane quality fetishes and hedonistic sexuality have taken thanks to the internet. I think the song would actually fit well in a Doors compilation, as it provides a sort of narrative arc that way. It's a song that I think might make people think about whether sexual exploration has lost meaning or if much of society is simply becoming too cynical.
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