Heimcomputer

Commodore 64 startup screen

Back in April I mentioned that back in 1998 (this sounds recursive) I had stumbled on some VBScript examples on my old Aptiva. In much the same way any opportunity to learn French in school was quashed by the limited scope of phrasebook teaching and the absence of anyone to actually speak to in the language, my exposure to VBScript yielded nothing more than the usual surface familiarity. When the PlaySation 2 launched Sony tried to pass it off as a computer by bundling YABASIC and thereby secure certain tax advantages. I recall the official magazine had a programming column for a short time, but copying the text via controller was as tedious as filling out a form for tax relief. I only bothered trying it once with a program called RAINDROP - still on my memory card, 66KB last edited 13:57 April 7th 2002 - which rendered an effect that looked like raindrops in a puddle. A fairly underwhelming reward for the effort.

As Heaven is Wide / Of One Skin

Utrecht Iconoclasm, 2003, Arktos

I haven't written about theology in some time. When I started this blog theological argument was something I was quite driven by. In fact, argument of any kind appealed to me when I was eighteen. I was interested in revolution but not so much the meaning of the revolution. My series of political essays over the past two years has attempted to explain how my ideas have matured and evolved, but the same is also true of my thoughts on theology. This is not coincidental as religion has historically been substantially entwined with politics - consider that the House of Lords is divided between secular and spiritual peers. My opposition to the emergence of elites from intermediary positions is as true of politicians as it is of the clergy. Just as I've come to develop an idea of political self-representation I find a parallel in the concept of the universal priesthood.

Chant of the Ever Circling Skeletal Family

Arirang Mass Games - North Korea, 2011, Joseph A Ferris III

Six years ago when I had a brief interest in short wave radio I picked up Voice of Korea a few times and was fascinated by this window into the bizarro-land of North Korea (or the People's Democratic Republic of Korea as it likes to be know, a string of words that somehow manage to reflect reality by an astonishing 0%). At the time my general impression of the North was that of an amusingly backward Stalinist state that acted up a bit on the world stage but was otherwise harmless and so I thought about writing into the station to receive a token marking my reception of their broadcast. Seeking the station details led me to a friendship association site which was run by a shady individual with connections to the North and the more I read this about character and the general behaviour of the DPRK outside its own borders the less I thought writing to them was a wise idea.

Sojourn II: There Were Always Dreams of Leaving

We're moving out, 2009, Sint Smeding

It's been two weeks since I came back from London and I've had time to reflect on the trip and also where I want to go next. If you want to take that as literally seeking a destination then I guess that would be New York City as one of the earliest films I can remember is Ghostbusters and dozens of other films over the years have impressed parts of the city in my mind (nearly all of which are in Manhattan, so I apologise to the other four boroughs). My thoughts about where to go next are actually life questions. The sojourn down south was one of three desires that arose earlier this year. You could call them goals or aims, but I've never thought of myself as pursuing very clear objectives which is why I've always had a problem answering questions about the extent of my desires - which sounds too passionate but intentions sounds too immediate so I'll roll with the former. The issues raising themselves mark this as a 'quarter life crisis'. I thought I'd gone through a quarter life crisis back when I started flunking college in the early days of the blog though in hindsight it bears more resemblance to angst, still how I went through it did warrant calling it a crisis. On the other hand whilst what I'm describing now is far more contemplative than a mental car crash, it is far more of an actual attempt to find personal direction in my twenty fifth year. Thus, this post is labelled as if it were the second part of the London travelogue.