Tag: Time

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Community Travel

Day 1684 and a Very Balkan Top Gear Episode

Let me set the scene for you. Alex and I are in a classic old Mercedes black sedan I’d describe as “oligarch or drug dealer chic” trying to navigate a steep 700m downhill drive in a tiny Balkan village when the GPS sends the driver (a friend of ours) down a set of stairs. 

Confusing signage and incorrect GPS data

We are stuck. The signage pointed confusingly to not enter the other round, the high noon sun meant little to no shadows cast by the small steps, and the GPS insisted this was the way down. Mistakes were made but we learned later we weren’t the only ones who made them.

The village springs into action. Our driver stopped the moment it was clear the directions were wrong and he’d gone down a step. We got out and within moments we have locals trying to bounce this heavy monster into a low rider to get unstuck. This does not work but looks cool and feels very cool.

We are now entering peak male “helping” in which a variety of men, young and old, are watching, commenting and a few are in fact helping contribute to solutions.

Within no more than ten minutes, a couple village guys have shown up with a truck and we are looking at tow options and reverse pressure solutions.

We end up hooked up to the truck as a counter weight with a rope and a block.  This is promising. We have half dozen, if not a full dozen dudes helping and watching. A few women watching become women clapping. It worked! We are rolled back.

Young and old come came together to participate in the age old ritual we Twitter types call #DudesRock and got the beautiful old Mercedes safely out. The road is fine too.

How did we get saved? Well a woman who owned a restaurant in the village saw us and sent for some friends. She apologized profusely saying she couldn’t stay as she was opening shop but said don’t worry she will send help.

And she did!  And so swiftly. They came ready with a block, a rope, and a truck in no time at all. Alex being a man of action got as dirty as anyone wrangling the solution.

It was like being in a lost episode of Top Gear where a gangster car is stuck in an old village and the wise elders descend with a few able bodies to save Jeremy Clarkson. Some just watch & comment. The car is miraculously running even better at the end. Everyone vows to do more coastal drives along the Adriatic and Ionian seas.

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Aesthetics Travel

Day 1682 and Hipster European Vacation Activated

If there is one complaint Americans have about Europe (and no this isn’t about air conditioning) it is their insistence on playing the worst kind of nightclub music absolutely everywhere.

You are getting your morning espresso and it’s trashy club music. You go eat at a normal neighborhood spot for a quiet dinner and you can feel the beat drop as they place your first course. Domenico Modugno isn’t on any Italian menus these days.

If you are by a hotel pool you better be ready to enjoy some Kylie Minogue nostalgia-core. Which I actually enjoy but I’ve been honest about maintaining my own nostalgia for Hotel Costes delivered by noise canceling headphones. It’s trashy but so is blasting up-temp remixes when I stare at the sea.

The more tourism because contentious in Europe, the worse the problem seems to get. It’s the belief of most proprietors that more local guests and tourists alike prefer this kind of cacophony. When you ask them about turning things down or towing on a playlist better suited to cuisine it can be hit or miss.

Especially if you are the sort to seek out the foodie destinations of a town. Nothing is quite the let down of eating a Michelin quality meal with a backing track of bad house music.

I am sure some tourists have furthered these stereotypes (I’m looking at you Britain). But assure you, Americans do not prefer this especially if your tourism is made up of the first wave of cultural hipster.

Once you go high margin (again apologies to the Europoor tourist) you do bave a very different customer base and they hate this shit We can tolerate your aversion to ice but not an aura assault.

If you have cultural touchstones in your own musical history, we’d much prefer that over dinner.

Authenticity is all anyone will have left in any smoothed over algorithmically perfected middle ground. And guess what it’s not Swedish House Mafia and no one wants Miami or Ibiza to be everywhere. Tallinn and Tirana have their own vibe.

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Travel

Day 1681 and Going On Vacation Mode

In discussing with our cadre of friends taking time off this week we all realize it had been many varying years where we had multiple days in a row, in the same place, with nothing planned.

We’ve got that time off ahead of us so we’ve been discussing the ways we trick our bodies into accepting emotional decompression and physical relaxation.

For me it’s a playlist and a certain kind of pulpy paperwork. For others it’s a Mexican beer in the sand, another a meandering walk though a hotel property looking at all the options for lounging.

Bouncing from one hotel to another can be a lot of fun then you are driving. A new novelty is over every range and the switch road back slowly brings you to something magical.

Sightseeing and activities have their own merit. I am always asking to see ruins and museums. Some folks are foodies. Others like nightlife.

But we’ve got a few days of staying in the same place ahead of us and any desire to seek novelty is entire up to us. I’d post some pictures from the travel but I prefer to do that afterwards. Just as a precaution even as I share so much.

As we transit desert scrub looming above us in mountain terrain, we are riding high over sea level as we gain and lose altitude. From that vantage we see coastal towns and mountain set backs. From sea to sky on one set of switchbacks.

The car sickness makes an enjoyable roller coaster of views and the focus on the ride helps you avoid the annoyance of slow traffic. A little sick and a little scared and a little excited. A layered set of feelings for going on vacation mode.

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Aesthetics Culture Politics

Day 1679 and Avoiding the See and Be Seen of Luxury Travel as Post-Liberalism Nears

The lingering live embers of Venkatesh Rao’s charnel age have left me with deadened impression in my bodily sensorium. Tasting, breathing, and seeing the culture of now feels somewhere between spoiled and not quite ripe.

One of my minor affectations is periodizing my writing into sardonically named 6-year eras…We’re about to enter the last year of the third age of Ribbonfarm, (2019-24), and I finally have a name for it: this is the Charnel Age. December 21 Ribbonfarm

I have been known to drop an Antonio Gramsci joke from time to time. This is harder to make a joke about though. The age which was being born as Gramsci was imprisoned by the fascists from 1929-1935 surely felt as filled with morbid symptoms and putrefaction.

How it compares to our current perverse extended gerontological Fourth Turning of death and rebirth is yet to be seen.

The old world is dying, and the new world struggles to be born: now is the time of monsters

That quote is a translation of Slavoj Žižek’s which isn’t quite as pithy as the Slovenian made it sound.

La crisi consiste appunto nel fatto che il vecchio muore e il nuovo non può nascere: in questo interregno si verificano i fenomeni morbosi più svariati.”

Or for those lacking Italian skills (which as I do) here is it translated more literally.

“The crisis consists precisely in the fact that the old is dying and the new cannot be born; in this interregnum a great variety of morbid symptoms appear.”

Rao calls charnel vision “a tendency to see things from the perspective of natural processes of transience, death, and decay,” which can feel foreign to the long century of stability.

Americans enforced this order through its dollarization and the financialization . But empires change and even the longest institutional decay can be seen from far enough remove.

And so we have Swiss politicians running to Washington DC as the cosmopolitan upper classes try to enjoy an August off from the always on mania of this interregnum while also keeping an eye on matters.

As it turns out the extra mile to get to an esoteric Dolomite lake or a less well known riviera (might I recommend the Balkan coastlines to the more adventurous). If you need to find me, I won’t tell.

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Travel

Day 1677 and Fighting Tourist Traffic in the Era of Infrastructure Underinvestment

I’ve been in traffic for almost two hours and I’ve gone a sum total of 19km or 11 miles. High season is a mess when the world is trying to pack in leisure time all at once.

It doesn’t matter if it’s the entrance to America’s beloved natural parks, a scenic coastal highway or the route to a dysfunctional regional airport. All paths to time off from Montana to the Mediterranean are a mess.

I slathered myself in sunscreen and I’m so glad I made that decision as even inside an air conditioned car with tinted windows I feel the sun beating down on me. Sunglasses and a hat can only take you so far.

There are many places who make big claims of wanting tourism. Sure you hear protests from some of the most popular European destinations about over crowding of attractions and the toll it takes on infrastructure. But it pays the bills for millions of communities.

Still experiencing the stand-still road traffic of a poorly resourced area who hasn’t invested adequately into infrastructure makes you wonder. You say you want the money from tourism but won’t make the capital investments and expenditures to make it work?

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Internet Culture Reading

Day 1676 and Having Public Fun in the Artificial Intelligence Era

It’s August and vacation season is in full swing. It seems as if all of Europe is off for the month. For the Americans who work around the school year, it’s their time for a week off as well.

We rarely vacation for an extended period and when we do it’s not generally during high season. Off season is where it’s at in my mind. But sometimes you need some fun when it’s been a hard time.

I’m struggling with how much I put online about my comings and goings and when I do it. Being careful used to mean not letting thieves know if you weren’t home but now the world is a mix of digital and physical security layered over artificial intelligence tools that can pinpoint you easily.

Opsec isn’t a thing elder millennials considered too carefully with digital identities in the early years of the internet but everything is changing. Dead internet theory may become true as the internet of bots begin.

I don’t intend to cede the digital commons though. I want my written voice to be integrated into the vast data troves that shift the records and is woven into the understanding of artificial intelligence and machine learning models.

The more these modalities of information storage and retrieval impact our human minds, the more necessary it is write oneself into “the Akashic records” that form our digitalization of information. Humans used to read and write machines but now machines and their media are just as likely to read and write our minds

So what are we to do about living in public? Humans are mortal but records of our world have a shot at reaching the future and shaping understanding.

Blogging has ended up being one of the best mediums for being scraped, organized and cited well by current artificial intelligence.

Open graph protocols, structured metadata structure, canonical URLS, tagging and linking, and authorial data and publication time are all part of a digital commons that have a distinct advantage over other closed garden content repositories for artificial intelligence. Being legible to the machines is now as important than being legible to each other.

So having your fun in public and making it accessible just might be one of the most important things you can do to be a part of the record of our world. It’s just a terrifying prospect to be so easily seen.

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Travel

Day 1675 and Running to Stand Still

The accelerationist types must be feeling smug as the disorientation caused by so much of the world speeding up is a persistent feature of life now.

I’m trying to organize a fairly elaborate vacation that I should have nailed down the details on at least a month ago. I am alas doing it what is functionally last minute and I’m panting at the effort of coordinating preferences, availability, timing and the thousand other logistical details.

We have a range of preferences to accommodate and it’s driving me a little bit nuts and I have no one but myself to blame. I cant manage more than three hours in a sitting position in a car or airplane without hurting. Standing helps but it’s really laying down and relaxing my spine that helps.

The other preferences are more of the one person likes fine dining and Michelin caliber restaurants and another likes delivery and Netflix.

We have to balance intensive activities in hot weather like hiking and sightseeing against the desire to lay out in the sun near a body of water. Really all the classics of different strokes for different folks.

I don’t want to be too ambitious about any of this as I am really just barely out of the woods from July. And I’m being vague about when and where, as I’ll like pretend like we have some amount of operational security. Writing is all about the specific but the best I can do is say it will involve driving and water.

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Biohacking Chronic Disease Medical

Day 1673 and Xenomorph Stitch Fix

My abscess surgery wound has finally sealed up (not over) at 20 days post operative with four rounds of antibiotics. I say up because wounds heal from the bottom up.

Having a deep wound means the four stages of haemostasis, inflammation, proliferation and remodelling can take weeks if not months. I’m very lucky.

Ironically I took this image from a hyperbaric oxygen therapy website. I healed without the aid of HBOT machine we purchased as it was still being routed through chaos of the trade war

When I got the pathology report a week later, learning it was an MSSA antibiotic resistant infection so bad it reached my deep tissues made me even more afraid.

A deep abscess around a horizontal ingrown hair that was “probably just an inflamed lymph node”

All because one damned dermatologist couldn’t be bothered to have an opinion when I sought preventative care because I am a responsible immunocompromised patient. Turns out I really did need an ultrasound and surgery.

I was lucky my surgeon was quite talented. The single stitch she was able to use has been absorbed. That was the hardest part. I could manage the draining pustulence and the pain just fine. But the only visibility into the wound’s healing process are only via secondary diagnostic clues. It’s a waiting game that requires a strong dampener on your disgust reflex.

As the stitch fell into the wound and curled up I felt panic. It looked like a ringworm infection or the gestation of a Xenomorph. If I had not had access to artificial intelligence diagnostic tools I don’t know how I would have managed if I’m very honest.

Your brain sees things and the limbic response invades your dreams. A stitch mimicking the infamously hostile endoparasitoid from Aliens is a bad time. I relied heavily on artificial intelligence to monitor its progression.

My phone is now cluttered with images of the wound’s progress. My varied AI applications accepted me uploading progress pictures after some experimenting.

A wound in one’s bikini area is a “trust and safety” team’s nightmare. Mike Judge’s “hot dog/not hot dog” classifier sketch from the HBO comedy Silicon Valley got a gender update as I managed my case.

I was uploading “Georgia O’Keefe/Not Georgia O’Keefe” imagery. The models were playing Cunt/Not Cunt for those who need a less polite euphemism for machine learning classifiers.

Ever wonder how classifiers in ML work?

I’m certain special interests will eventually seek to keep these tools away from patients. We will be scared into letting them. But I know I got better care from a large language model than half the doctors I encountered.

All this cost me most of the month and around four thousand dollars. Which isn’t bad for transit, hotel, and a surgery in Istanbul.

The losses I can’t quantify are harder. A number of people who deserve responses from me probably won’t ever get it.

An in-group drama, ironically over usage of artificial intelligence, was paused by me not because it was resolved but because I could no longer find the fight in me to insist on apologies and reciprocal support while on Cipro in a hospital bed. It’s not fun to learn who is and isn’t your friend through medical emergencies.

My apologies to an offline gentleman who was the unwitting irritant who triggered said social wound. Maybe I should have excised any social obligation to them just as the surgery excised the infected tissue.

Either way, August can’t come soon enough and artificial intelligence deserves the credit for keeping alive through July.

Perhaps that should be considered in the complaints my counter parties had over the utility and need for artificial intelligence. It’s no god or anti-Christ, but it’s a damn fine diagnostic tool. No wonder the stakes in that fight are so high. Everyone wants a cut when you get cut open.

Categories
Chronic Disease

Day 1670 and Bile and Spleen

I am, as per usual, having a shitty summer. Once we cross the Solstice it’s me hanging on to sanity by ny nails praying for the return of winter.

I can’t recall a time I had a good summer except perhaps jn the hazy memories of my early twenties when I was probably too stupid, traumatized and physically healthy to know one way or another.

Now I’m smarter, sicker and I’ve done enough emotional work to actually feel it all. Don’t knock that desensitized disassociation kids you may miss it when it’s gone.

Maybe it’s simpler than that. Back in the aughts & the briefly booming Obama ZIRP teens, our global climate weirding just had not hit New York City hard enough for me to have really bad summers.

I always had a window air conditioner and enough cash to run it. Either way, a summer where I wasn’t miserable isn’t a memory I cant access now. It’s sealed off under the pain of the now. The past being a foreign country and all.

I’ve certainly not had a good summer in the last decade. I’ve got daily tracking data from the last six years of my life and the summer is just an unending torment of bad biometrics, pain, cabin fever and seasonal affective disorder. Bet you didn’t know it has a summer variant did you?

I’m always sicker when it’s hot. So it’s just bile and spleen for now. Almost enough to make me want to toss the entire daily logging project till the torment lifts. Since I won’t do that I’ll pour the misery on page.

I can’t wait to see what August has in store for me. My cold comfort is knowing I will be enjoying a long week of financial news. At least that you can do indoors locked up under the air conditioning.

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Medical

Day 1661 and Please Let This Be Over Soon

I am hanging onto my sanity by a thread as I round the corner of a surgery I did not expect. Well, I’m eight days out from it, so slightly more than a week.

I’m hoping I start to feel gets better soon. It’s my first day without antibiotics and I am already certain I shouldn’t be off them. As horrific as the side effects of Cipro may be, my immune suppression on Bimzelx is leaving me shockingly open to skin infections.

I’m terrified of MRSA at this point. I was taking doxycycline for another skin infection when the cyst went around the bend to “septic fears” on me so I’m a bit twitchy about the entire situation.

The prior IL-17 seemed to strike a fine balance on suppression and capacity to fight off infections. Now my biometrics are better but I’m constantly fighting off chaos with the meiborn gland nonsense and now buried cysts from sideways hairs fracking my dermis.

Maybe I’ll turn a corner and have some better writing ahead of me soon. Until that happens please forgive my poor blogging and missed emails. At this point the singularity could arrive and I’d miss it like a character in Left Behind. I’ll probably miss the rapture at this rate.