Skip to main content

Double Boosh!

Another youtube update! Holy WHAT!?

I know, right? I haven't uploaded to youtube in about 2 years it feels and all of a sudden--DOUBLE BOOSH. 2 videos in the same week, man. F'ing nuts.

Meanwhile, here's the video from yesterday:
I've actually more or less figured out which poem to read, but I'll gladly still take suggestions :)

The choices are

I'll print it out and start markerizing it up today and maybe have something out sometime tomorrow....? 0.o It's a scary thought, frankly.



I'm still kind of amazed that not only did I upload something to my youtube twice in one week but that I actually edited this second one. Crazy, yeh?

It's a testament to how far I've come, I guess. Used to be I just couldn't stand listening/watching myself on camera--nevermind be bothered to actually rewatch my own videos before posting them. My video making process basically ran: I'd ramble one out, post it, and be done with it. Sometimes I'd do more than one take if I felt I'd really screwed something up. But generally I never edited and envied all the fancy people who did.

So this was an interesting experience. Nothing earth-shattering, actually, but it turned out to be a much easier process than I had imagined. Yeah, it took a bitch and a half to figure out a program to edit with on Linux and get it to deal with the file I fed it (.3gp is the devil...), but actually editing it wasn't so bad. Parker even helped a bit towards the end.

And now that I've figured out what needs doing, it'll be a cinch in the future. This might actually mean you'll get less "um"s and deathrambles outta me. Like, you might actually hear points being made and order somewhat apparent. Try not to scream yourself silly, it's going to be all right.

Comments

Other things that might interest you...

On aging, and fear.

To begin with, I’m not sure you’re aware of it, but I’m middle aged. Oh? What gave it away? Using a blog as my primary literary medium?¹ Hm. But in fact, the APA defines 35 years as the end of “young adulthood.” Yeah. I found out via some shitpost on twitter when I was already 35, so it didn’t sit well with me then either. But my worries about aging began much sooner than that. See, even in my 20s, I feared I’d been wasting my life. I’d struggled with school and life and everything since graduating high school, arguably sooner, and nothing seemed to be going anywhere meaningful . I felt I had a limited social life, a dead-end job, no money, no great travels, a limping love life; I was, generally, a loser, wasting away... There were none of the usual hallmarks of success or happiness. And that scared me. Would my life have been worth it if I continued in this direction? Would it have been a “life well lived” by the end? So, this is my existential struggle. Even now, as I lurch ever nea

Changing lanes.

I was driving home in some traffic last night when I drifted, in my mind, a long way back (about 20 years) to high school. I was caught in one of those periodic traffic slowdowns as I floated back; you know, those waves of congestion that seem to pass backward through the columns of cars in each lane. (I've heard they start because someone switches lanes, and in response, a rippling emergent slowness travels backward and outward as the cars behind it accommodate the change, one by one.) What drew me back to those younger days was that, back in high school, similar phenomena of congestion took place in the halls between classes, when eddies of young humans would get caught in and around those clumps of those chatting by lockers or retrieving books. Occasionally, backups would occur when groups of people got caught in these eddies, or collided with other groups by the lockers, and slowdowns would ripple back from there. Maybe it's not exactly the same, but as I drove it seemed si

On phases and fixations.

My fixations are powerful, but they can also be maddeningly ephemeral and fleeting. And I hate that; about them and, honestly, about myself. But I’ve never really  asked why I feel that way... I'll commit immense amounts of time and energy and even money to a fixation for a few weeks, maybe even a month or two, sometimes rebranding my whole personality around it, then just...move on. I'm not sure when I first noticed this pattern—if it was always there or if it emerged and intensified over time—but it's been part of me for a long while. And every time I do, I feel such guilt and shame. Who even am I if I can't be consistent, dedicated, substantive? How disingenuous is it that nothing I care about lasts? I’ve always just accepted those feelings; I’ve never poked at them in earnest. If you can’t tell from the recent flurry of activity on this blog, I have been fixated on blogging; I mentioned in a recent post about this blog that I had a compulsion to revamp the whole bl