...which is, not so incidentally, what we're all doing here. And I've loved every word and moment of it, every line, every flipped day (particularly when it comes after some time of no-flipping), even every cryptic facade.

I hiked for miles into one of those valleys in the panoramic photograph I pinned up on my virtual blackboard yesterday. There were lots of Pioneer Mill, Inc.'s NO TRESPASSING, VIOLATORS WILL BE PROSECUTED signs in the fields, foothills and dirt access roads leading into the valley. I blithely ignored them, as I mostly do here in Hawaii. These sugarcane and pineapple companies think they own the land, but they really don't. They may have "bought" these lands in fact, but they stole them in spirit. It's a long, hoary story of Yankee imperialism that I'm sure you're familiar with and which I won't bore you with right now. In any case, Pioneer Mill ceased operations last year on the Lahaina plantations, after nearly a century and a half of existence. It was no longer economically viable, as cheaper cane and pineapple products (not to mention labour) are available elsewhere, mostly in South America. Clearly, their kapu (taboo) signs were out of date and anyway, no one ever watches or enforces these things. If anything, the land belongs to the indigenous Hawaiians, and in the end, the land belongs to no one. We shall walk where we damn well please.

They would've had a better chance of keeping me out with the warning: PROCEED AT RISK OF DEATH BY THORN IMPALEMENT or something like that. In the valleys and mountainsides of the dry westward sides of Hawaiian islands, thorn trees abound. I don't know if these trees (pukiawe I think they call it?) were introduced or endemic; but they're all over the place, and if you're not careful, you can be stabbed by needle-sharp, inch-long thorns, quite easily. Which is what happened to me. Got gashed on my left upper back as I was reversing course along a narrow, fading path that had all of a sudden disappeared into impenetrable brush. It stung, and bled good, but it wasn't too bad. And I clot easily.

All in all, yesterday was another good hiking day; my day of weblog quietude, in which I went to look for solitude, and found it. I also found you, within the ringing silence of that narrow valley, its sides angling steeply up to the sky... as you're always in my thoughts these days.

In the evening, amidst the usual IM chatter, and Kass' civil war essay stuff and sundry distracting teasing of/with/about/on/ Quad on my part ;-) I got caught up with your weblogs:

• One sure sign that school's out (well, at least for some): Trev wrote another weblog, shortly after the last one! His self-referential title is cute, but I would have used this one instead: "Porn falling from the sky." ::ROFL!!:: Anyone remember one of Laura's weblogs, about those delinquents trying to break into that newspaper dispenser and that elegantly simple thing she did to mollify them? Part of Trev's story reminded me of that. Minus the mollification. But at least his had sex. Ha! Ha! ;-) (I know, I know, that was utterly gratuitous, iguanaboy... But how often do I say sex on my weblogs anyhow? And this is an adult weblog. I'm entitled. *smirk*)

• And speaking of storytelling, how about this "Battle of the Toys" epic, rendered by Ozzie in teeth-gnashing prose? *chuckle* I found it thrilling and hilarious, and reading it was a non-stop chuckle affair for me. However, I hasten to correct certain egregious mistakes made by this modern-day von Clausewitz of ours. In the battle, he quite conveniently neglected to mention the awesome, laser-cannon weaponry that my Iron Giant can employ, to devastating effect. His (literally) puny army is no match for such a killing tool, and even those transformers who can fly around are easy prey. After all, the Giant flies too! Hah. BIFF, BAM, ZAP! Take that, you dastardly bard. Actually, the toy in Ozzie's arsenal I feared most, which he stupidly under-utilized in the battle, is Yoda. The Force is indeed insuperable! (Laura suggested we throw the other ATDP office toys into the fray, but that's for another battle, ok, Baron? Gary's Lego spacemen and Yoshiko's stuffed purple ant are impervious to any Yoda incantations. HA!)

• Robin writes of her "Christmas angst," which I'm sure many of us have felt at one time or another, about finding the perfect gift for that perfect someone. Who shall not remain nameless here (::wink::) as he is most certainly named, in Robin's own weblog: Tom writes about "Refining, Redefining" (himself? his world?) and more importantly, he posts grist-for-the-Kati-mill pictures of him and Robin on his weblog. Cuuuuuteness!

• *yaaaaaaaawn* it's 1 a.m., and i'll continue adding to this list tomorrow (today, actually, as you're reading this), as i plan to just chill out at home and read and write, and continue arranging the books and shelves in my mom's Resource Center on the lanai... lots of good weblog stuff to come, conveniently culled and annotated here for your reading pleasure. ^_^ *goodnight world*

9ish in the a.m. ... goooood mornin'!

With cup of coffee in hand, I logon and fire up my great, grand HDTV monitor. It's almost floor to ceiling, about 7 feet high and 10 feet wide. It has the sharpest resolution you've ever seen, and the most audaciously lifelike audio. The twittering of birds, for instance, is so subtly placed in 3Dspace such that you're looking around onscreen for the source of it, tilting your head this way or that. I am talking, of course about this:

[click to enlarge view]

...and no, 'tis not the teensy iBook monitor I'm talking about, David. *snicker* The "HDTV screen" is the one I open with drapes, and whose glass doors I slide across, fetching me that view of the little park out there, Front Street past it, then the old historic buildings and little library, and the ocean beyond. As I was telling some of you the other day on IM, I have a new pastime: people-watching, as lots of locals and tourists pass by this area walking from one end of Old Lahaina to another. And here I sit, generally unnoticed, listening to, and watching, their passing lives... as I read about yours and share you mine. This is much better than TV, and is even sometimes interactive, as some passing kid will look up and flash a shaka, or a friendly smile and wave. [Hm, on that link, it looks like those girls are Hawaiian kids temporarily transplanted to Texas for school. Interesting.]

Anyway, back to work...

• Yes, work, Quad. Which is what I'm doing now. That it's ALSO play (i.e., fun) is the point I want to make here. That was an intriguing question on the issue of fun jobs that you posed, and I know you've had that in mind for a while now, actually ever since I met you a couple years ago. (Though you didn't pose it quite like that, then.) So for me, the answer--on a purely personal level, which in the final analysis is the only thing I can assert with complete authority--is obvious. It's a resounding YES! It's indeed possible to have a job, or work, that's fun. If I achieved it--with a mixture of foresight, luck, and making certain choices--then it's also possible for others. See, the thing is this: the essence of your question boils down to how you can make your job, whatever it might be, fun. Which in itself is embedded under the bigger philosophical question of: how do you live your life. A big question, yes, but if it's not something you think about or tackle, then you're going through life robotically, which ain't all that good. In a way, what we're all doing here in this little weblogging community of ours is, in the long run, answering this big question.

  For different perspectives on the issue, check out Damien's response on your weblog, Greed's own weblog about it, and Laura's. (Will add to these links as answers surface and I find them.)

• My friend Yoshiko-san writes a poignant weblog about friendship... a phone call that comes from out of the blue.
• My cousin Aaron Paul writes about going out with his family to dinner on his parents' wedding anniversary, and weirdly being the center of attention at the restaurant.

• Jason responds to Bigi's weblog about parents, and talks about his frustrations with his own, particularly with his dad. Is something in the air in El Cerrito? Interesting 'family-type' rants and thoughts coming from over there... to add to the already voluminous record of that from Aaron and Quad, haha.
• Candace continues with her startling idea of Charlie Brown as the quintessential American existentialist. The not-yet-college-age types among you might be completely baffled by the analysis, but it's intriguing and deep. Not since I heard about the theology of Charlie Brown years ago (when I was a teenager in the Philippines) when my dad preached a series of sermons about The Gospel According to Peanuts have I heard anything as interesting about the little bald-headed kid.

• The powerful stories Catherine and Chris tell about teaching are worth annotating with an entire weblog entry (which I'll do, sometime soon) but I hafta link to them right now, as what they have to say is provocative, and a must-read-now kinda weblog. ^_^ Start with Catherine's "The Story of Mr. K." ... about how a teacher she knew and liked was fired for alleged sexual harrassment "on the unexamined say-so of one kid."
• Then follow that with two intense weblogs Chris wrote one after the other: his story of how high school was like for him (the first in his family to go on to higher education). And his story of being a teacher, and then leaving the profession. It is only a beginning, and I for one am looking forward to the rest of the story with great anticipation, 'dude.' ;-)

4 p.m.ish ... just woke up after a nap

Hey Ozzie... tell your muddah that there's a far easier way to learn SAT-type words. Some might even say it's outright pleasurable: reading my weblog everyday. HAHAHA. ;-) Seriously. You're a sophomore now. After a couple more years of me inflicting my daily weblog on you, I guarantee your storehouse of SAT-ish words should be rather increased, don't you think? The observant reader will certainly notice that I've done this since the birth of this weblog; i.e., used unfamiliar words where appropriate. And I don't just do it gratuitously either (unlike the sex remark way up there where I just added Laura's link to Trev's stuff, hehe [gratua-wha...?! nm, just click on the link!]). Specificity of thought requires precision of language. (Sometimes using a hyper-accurate word does result in obfuscation, but I try not to be obscure just for the sake of being so.)

In any case, isn't it more pleasant to learn SAT words almost by accident, rather than slogging through a heap of them via a "Hot (Yeah Right) SAT-I SuperDuper Wordlist"? Of course, I'm putting forth not just my weblog here, as a good suspect for such a task; try Candace's and her friend Sam's, with regularity. ;-) Corollary suggestion: also read more for pleasure, particularly during school holidays. And not just comic books either... and I hasten to say I'm not impugning them for being dumb: obviously comic novels, by virtue of their format, need to employ the simplest, most straightforward language. (Unless today's comic style has diverged greatly from when I used to read them often, when I was your age.) But this is leading right into a discussion you're extending now, which I shall link back to... when I return from a basketball game I'm going to, in a few minutes. Until then... ciao.

late night update:

And here's that link right back to Ozzfest: his continuing take on art and writing in comics.

{ net.casting }
^