I’ve often considered, either in a spiritual mood or scientific, the Problem With The World. It’s that trouble lends context to comfort, that we only sleep so that we may wake again, that light means nothing without shadow. I’ve considered the hypotheses — never too seriously! — that if we all as a race united and prayed constantly for peace, we would have no war. That is not a spiritual argument — except that it is, and that it is also mathematical and scientific.
I started this journal on Large Prime Numbers Dot Com in 2003 — that’s ten years ago. I stopped updating it, for the most part, in 2011.
I deleted every entry just last week, to make room for a new entry, a new layout, and maybe a new style.
Though I stopped updating this website a few years ago, I never stopped writing essays about my life. I simply stopped sharing them.
Here is one that I wrote in January of 2013. I’m sharing it today, because I was just thinking about it.
It is titled “a cartoon androgyne between two fashionable imps”.
This is an essay I wrote, which I titled “should you see blood on the last day of travel”, based on a translation of a sentence someone spoke to me a few hours before I got on a train to an airport, where I would board a plane back home. At the time I heard the sentence, it was in another language, and it did not strike me as an interesting group of words. On a train to the airport, with a view of a skyscraping, godly, white tower looking over the city of Tokyo, I recalled the sentence, translated it, and felt immediately, again, aware of that darkness we will never understand. I can’t expect you to understand, right now, what darkness it is I will soon be in the process of saying we will never understand. I only want you to know that the title of this piece represents a little sleepy thought that moved me as I sat on a high-speed train at the sun-hot height of a sleep-deprived Sunday early afternoon far away from home, pointed at last toward home.
I had been on a two-week business trip to Japan.
Two days before I left for a two-week business trip to Japan, I became sad about a particular thing. I am not going to talk about that particular thing. I am going to talk about many other things. It is not my explicit intention that the many other things I talk about triangulate the location of the other particular thing.
Chapter One: “Just A Minute”
LinkedIn Dot Com sent me an email in early 2013. The email said “Congratulations”: my profile on that particular job search website was one of the top ten percent most-viewed profiles on that particular website in all of 2012. The flattery felt like horror. A less realistic individual could spin this notification into an optimism: people are interested in me. At my most natural, I can guess that everyone looking at my profile, like me, simply wants to discern what it is exactly that I do for a living.