윤

Last week I had a dream with Amy Adams and Laura Prepon in some exciting relationship, but the more salient aspect of it was the “re-do”, a feature that’s appeared before, where I will replay or rerun a series of events from that or another night, or at least try and most often fail. (The original hasn’t necessarily happened, but it’s understood to have.) I don’t think I got them on the couch right, so I forfeited any further progress towards that enticing goal.

I called it a “re-do”, of course, because that’s the term coined by this episode of Black Mirror for their perfect assisted recall, and the writer’s choice over more apt ones probably because he’s British. In the end, 記恨 gets at the truth and again it’s the pleasant memories that compel him to go spotless. The most frightening of the anthology for me, especially in light of my recent interest in Google Glass and GoPro to catalogue the excruciating minutiae of my everyday life for future viewing—not at all to appraise my appraisals or pierce jalousies, but foremost to convince my son to make a living instead out of what he enjoys.

Liquid-cooling should assuage my fears of another crashed laptop (assuming it wasn’t the SSD), but I’m finding little motivation to return to GW2 nowadays. Sure, there’s content galore and my new 24″ Asus with the new card makes it look all the more glorious, but the creeping progression game is unwelcome to on-and-off players like myself. Then again, at least there will always be a crowd at Jormag; I should check in on DCUO for some perspective.

So you’ll understand why I find solace in nerdglaze. (Loathsome, isn’t it, to resort to pop language; not that the term is even applicable, but a search for the 윤 family-familiar “thon” turned up only a relevant link in its oldest result.)Really, I got no other excuse for sitting through all 13 hours of this. Don’t tell me showing Laura Prepon’s breasts in the first minute of them wasn’t deliberate.

老婆 and I were in the Matrix on Bristol across from South Coast Plaza, except the car had no top and the airport nearby was a lot closer and to our north; a plane appeared from the horizon and filled the sky flying overhead as if it were projected onto a ceiling. We turned left on Sunflower but so abruptly that my computer mouse fell into the street in front of me and I had to reach out and scoop it up by the cord, and I felt like I was seated on the hood of the car.

While I’m not a big fan of the artist’s eye, I won’t deny the artistry. I figure it’s only a matter of time before computers can do this in real time to beautify video chatters, but what if someday the processing could be overlaid directly onto our visual cortices? It’d be Shallow Hal—9000! People could let themselves become those Wall-e fatties or worse, as long as everyone was in on it.

Another accessory that makes the device. Recently 老婆 actually expressed interest in it, but I’m still not convinced, and won’t be until they at least add a phone to the thing.

TV’s will soon be so thin they’ll be recessed, but they can’t invent a scanner that slides between pages?

All pictures of me must have background wallpaper with the words 「パンツ」　「スケベ本」　「女湯」 and　「女更衣室」, too.

(I suppose it could’ve been worse.)

Name reminds me of how 윤대섭 once called the place “Pizza Hat”. What a tremendous missed opportunity not to have included a forward camera for Skype users, or even allow running IM clients in the background. No, this isn’t what I thought might alleviate my burden of carrying around an impotent web browser and unconnected computer. Seems to me that Apple struck gold when they mined the then-listless smartphone and MP3 player markets, but this time they’ve got a lot more convincing to do with their giant iPod Touch.

Woke up with terrible eye strain, no doubt the result of dreaming what felt like all night long. USA’s obligatory SVU marathon would erase most of my memory of the various episodes, but in the first I recall, I was spotted below from the balcony of a two-story apartment by a fellow who accused me of peeping on his girlfriend inside and informed me that he was coming down for me. I continued around the front, indifferent of meeting him, not so much because he was justified to render punishment, but rather, it was unlikely he’d be able to since—you guessed it—I had super-powers. Our confrontation never occurred, and I flew away. Flight again was hard to control except too high straight up, but I managed to maintain enough altitude off the ground when I leaped from the top of the building to distinguish it from a suicide jump. The rest I lost but my search for the password to an old AOL account… something like PPW306R, which, as it turns out, was instead the license plate of James Bond’s Lotus Esprit in The Spy Who Loved Me (and my Corgi replica of it).

Score one—for the consumer? The Macbook trackpad suddenly stopped depressing, and I discovered the cause was a swollen battery. I mean, pictures can’t do it justice; the bulge in the White glaze made it resemble Stormtrooper armor even more (the rounder parts thereof). Got to thinking about retiring the 3-year-old machine rather than spending $100+ on a replacement, but read that others with the same problem managed to get it free, out of warranty, by bringing it in, so I took a chance and made a “Genius Bar” appointment. I awoke from a jetlag-induced nap to ponder continuing it, staying and watching the premiere of the V remake or futilely trying to make it to South Coast in 15 minutes, but in this turn of events at least, the staff there was gracious with both my tardiness and their product defect. Still gonna go with ASUS next. Touch my heart, Taiwan.

Was explaining our stop at Fry’s last weekend to 老婆, and her response: that’s because they were made in China. (The Sony’s, which I successfully swapped them out for, don’t fit flush against my head as intended and has always been the case, insert with the speakers facing forward. Yanking on the extra-long cord brings up the same old concern, too.) Alas, the Zippy keyboard which has served me so well these past few years, comes to us from Taiwan; the flexible Tripp-Lite it replaced, which didn’t fare as well—what do you know, let gravity have at the wires inside and they fail—most likely from the mainland. But let’s hope that manufacturing, regardless of where it’s done, sticks to standards commensurate to premium products such as Deck’s.

The deep keystrokes remind me of my old Selectric II, but it’s as if the thick and hence less portable case is making the extra room for your fingers. Thankfully the FN commands to dim and disable the lighting work over USB to the 360 and PS2, because I’d be blinded by the LED’s at their highest setting. Or made to feel guilty by their gratuitous use of energy. There is, however, a niche concept behind it (even if it harks back to case modders from ten years ago), the braided cord, diamond plate bottom, that’s just as hardcore and uncompromising as Apple’s. At twice the price.

Then again, the headliner inside my Japanese truck designed and built in the US has come unglued and is sagging.