The local production of Einstein’s Dreams is awesome! The thrill of creative ideas, the surreality of dream, the beautiful language of Alan Lightman: the actors take their project of creating those worlds so spontaneously, creatively, seriously it’s inspiring. Read Einstein’s Dreams right now, and then go watch the play.

I can’t keep the smile off my face. It’s an effort not to skip.

A few hours ago I was exhausted, head and heels. I’ve bled myself for the last three days to help a friend live on the left coast. But today, todo list item #66 was “Be Your Own Lap Dog”, and now my favorite tea and ice cream are at an arms reach.

Come to Dublin for Bloomsday (June 16)! Bloomsday is the day Ulysses (the greatest book ever) is set (and Dublin is the place). Oh, yeah, we’re also poking our collective nose into London and Paris. So read Ulysses and join us! Or just come without reading it– you can mope in the hostel while we attend the biggest lit-geek party in the world.

Briefs: foobar2000 is the best music player. We need a paradigm shift from “rules” to “definitions”. I’m in debt but got a raise. Business-making is about designing validation.

A stream of consciousness posting, better to read me with later.

The question of work. Three threads away from having a business and an employee, or maybe I want the rushing safety of the Media Lab and its paper. Last night’s idle thoughts of working for Google, and then their headhunter’s email today. I could be their genius, like a proud dog for an indulging master. But a master with openings in Dublin (Bloomstown), Switzerland, Australia– maybe even here, me kept in a kennel on my favorite seacoast, to chase one rabbit of my own at a time.

Always the whip; I can feel it in my back. Was it enough today? This morning’s work, distracted with a conversation I wanted. Then begetting, and then midwifing, for my students. Then the other’s work, distracted by the other conversation I wanted.

Rocky is coalescing into something fresh. Bubbling, throbbing. How many connections were made and broken this week? The middle isn’t crowded, and I’m cold on the outskirts. And there are good friends to be had. Feeling so blessed. Now I’ve got to make the most of it before it cools.

And before the fling runs its course. Came to Rocky to be young before it was wasted on me too, and I might just get there in time. How much of beauty is ephemeralness? I think my picture looks better with ever lesson from Lord Henry, but I know it’s the sand running out. It’s so right, today, but it’s nice to know I have homes for tomorrow.

But not without taking some friendship with me. Like when C. came. Now’s my job to collect those friends on LJ before they go the many ways of the dusty book. It won’t be the same, spread so far apart, but it will be something.

And then called away by C. for a couple hours of voyeurism on on pornography, smoke (and it’s Thursday), nursing her baby, and critique. Watched Terence McKenna. Spoke like that and became famous. “Help me with my oratory style?” I can always come to C. for her truth and my falsehood. And I wrote it down, my path laid out. Be natural, clear. My gestures. Relaxed, slower, lower, fluid. My shoes and pants, my nerd.

It’s been a week of acting. Played a game with a Rocky friend Saturday, not really an acting game, an apology mostly. So much less than meeting at salsa when she would wonder if it was me. But got me to thinking of my mannerisms. I don’t want these, but I can trade them in. Acting is living. Damn awkwardness, but I can see the headlights at the tunnel’s end to take “me” away. And then my meme answers: “continuity through change”. Just now, it was Frank’n’Furter who brought this mess, revealing new secrets with his eyes in 3-133. Frank is a god. I’ll do him more than justice; I can be him. The Rockys who inspire me to really act, body and soul. Have to know it enough to forget it.

Amazing how ideas grow and break. The myth of the weather machine, the MIT community’s hubris to sanction our own event. And then the windy grey ushers in a damp misery, and it turns out we didn’t have any clothes on. But how many good ones will we lose? It might be better. Look into next years’ frosh– the administration might not think highly, but we can make them.

Kurt Vonnegut died. Sallie Mae is being unfaithful. So far to go.

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don’t speak often, please post a comment with a memory of you and me. It can be anything you want — good or bad. When you’re finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people remember about you.

I have notes for posts on the Rocky community (I love every one of you, the community is thumping, the present now will later be past), and the China-and-India problem (they aren’t the anti-answer, recognize our ability to divert disaster, the possibility of a golden age)… but I’ll get those out when I can.

It’s a beautiful night for sipping tea and snuggling with Ulysses.

This has been a week of random projects. Recently or newly on my plate…

• Dialogue Grapher: A friend and I have long wanted to create a collaborative idea framework– think message boards, except each message is a single line and connected to several others in a graph, and the whole structure is publicly editable (see an example, or the diagram in my LJ bio). It could be used to communicate complex ideas, as a new kind of wikipedia, for refining Lakoffian arguments, and even to explore the unconscious structure of society.
• General Sudoku-Maker: I have no interest in Sudoku puzzles, but the current 6.001 project is an automated Sudoku solver, and I think I’ve figured out a method for automatically constructing Sudoku puzzles of arbitrary difficulty. Anyone have ideas for Sudoku variations that would make such a program worthwhile?
• “Lips” Trixie: I was the lips, with two possessed hands that stripped off clothes that no one could see anyway because I was covered in black. It was fun, and I think went well as choreographed-goofing-off April Fools experiments go. The weirdest part was how differently people treated me when my face was black.
• Rocky Party: I didn’t know it was asavitzk‘s birthday until too late (*pout*), so I hosted anyway. I hope the other half of the split party had fun, because we certainly did. And for once, no casualties! AND, at girlygothic‘s insistence, some of us finally played…
• Rocky Monopoly: The Rocky Monopoly game was a great success! It was easy to play, and got lots of people paying and receiving (minor) sexual favors. I’m going to incorporate some new innovations over the next week. Tell me if you want me to bring the game to your party.
• Mental Reorganization: I’ve been reorganizing my mind to relegate my subvocal “I”, increase my sensory awareness, become more conscious of the collective unconscious. Good fun.

I saw the man on the moon
for the first time now.
He looked so surprised,
just woken to find 200000 miles below him.
Kabir says, “Don’t give a name to it.

God is the sound of the flute coming in.”
We jest we’re a step away from baboons,
But it’s only the unknown we feel on our necks.
Why be surprised to find the flute
on our lips?

Yearning is a gift,
the horses always pull for home.
My books taught me that,
but the guest was waiting for me to put them down
and come outside.

Did you know that in 100 years, either NYC or London will probably be gone due to global warming? I love my apartment, but that’s worth stopping the train for. The US is too caught up in “progress” that I don’t think new technology or political activism will cut it– we need to totally change how we live, and then be infectious. Anyone up for a beacon on the hill commune within T radius?

I have too much time on my hands this week, and I want to spend more with Rocky friends. Setting up casual gatherings is so much more difficult after college. Is there a FBC chat channel somewhere? Should there be? With MMM closed to Rocky parties (hopefully not for long), I want to pick up some of the slack, but I’m worried about my apartment-mates’ response. I hope to start hosting once a month, but they’ll be exactly as special of parties as you all make them.

Weekend: Salon-Party a fabulous success (*pirouette*); eclectic group, fluidly bubbling with conversation groups on everything. Great time at Black Rose Ball; I *love* dance and meeting women. Huge snow-storm audience at the Rocky show; I was delirious except for when padfootwhore was being mean to me (no matter– I spewed Acid on her later).

I write this slathered in salt grains. I feel a flare for demonstracity, and I’m playing with it.

Someone recently quoted, “Only people of a certain disposition are frightened of being alone for the rest of their lives at the age of 26.” For me, more than resigned to the possibility, I want to embrace it. Not because good women are difficult to find. I go on dates sometimes, but my life isn’t the kind of thing that most people would be interested in joining in on.

I intend to live hard. And not in a nice way– my life will leave my mind twisted, my soul tortured, and my body wasted. I’ll live poor and over-worked. I won’t settle in anywhere. I’ll only get weirder with age. I’ll always be obsessed with projects that only a mother could love, and my relationship will never be the most important thing in my life.

I mentioned this to my philosophical father. He suggested that swallow-the-keys commitment might have more for me than I was considering. Life with another person forces one to confront one’s flaws. And I want that, but I hope friends can give it to me (that’s where you come in).

I’m very comfortable with my flaws, or my rate of progress in working on them. They rarely bother me, but I know some of them bother other people. And the flaws that affect other people don’t directly affect me, so it’s easy for me to just not notice them.

So my question to anyone who thinks they have any part of an answer: What are my worst flaws?

Any answer would be doing me an honor, so don’t worry about protecting my ego or mis-flawing me. You won’t hurt me, and I want to know however my flaws appear, and I’ll worry about whether they are at-bottom how they manifested themselves to you. Give as much detail as possible (and specific grievances, if you remember them). Thank you!

jdub0014 started a discussion on confessions, later described as “I want to hear someone admit something about themselves, have me respect them for sharing, but still be disgusted by them for it.” Here’s a variant:

What do you wish you could ask other people, but don’t because they might be alarmed/horrified/disgusted by you for asking? It could be to a particular person or to just anyone who knows you. It could be a question or a request.

Feel free to post anonymously.

I’m having a Salon-Party this Friday, and you should come (unless you’re going to the Rocky night at Dick’s Last Resort)! Part salon, part party: we’ll have good food and drink, good company, and plenty of good discussion.

When: Friday, March 23, starting around 7 pm
Where: My apartment, 283 Washington St., Cambridge
Directions: http://www.existencia.org/info/grey17.txt

Many of the French salons were like parties, with the greatest thinkers of the day schmoozing, sharing ideas, and playing games (language games being the most popular). If you have ideas for activities or games, tell me about them! And invite friends that you think would enjoy the
salon atmosphere!

Incredible weekend. I’ll be swooning over Cambridge for weeks.

ESG got a new 6 ft diameter beanbag “love sack”! People piles and discussion of sex and fluids at ESG ensued (“the beanbag’s been here 30 minutes and sketchiness has increased 300%”). To tEp that evening for hanging and working and eating, and eventually partying, with C. I met the renowned MIT-bum-philosopher Pevner (we discussed the future of philosophy– he thinks the next big thing is going to be connotation), got introduced to a new level of massage technique, and schmoozed with tEps and Emersonians till late.

Saturday morning breakfast at Renee’s Cafe with a good Olin friend. Attended Vision of the Twelve Goddesses, with the beautiful goddesses and their beautiful garb, hilarious i Sebastiani anti-masque, and seeing many friends. Nabbed the “dancing girls” subtlety (thank you richenza!) and dropped it off at the Church St. theatre to gift to the enchanting padfootwhore and andelsky, formerly my light techs, for doing their first (joint, dancish (trixie)) performance that night.

Got back just in time to bake an experiment for the Lucky Corner Ladies’ cook-off, and then gorge myself full of their deserts.

Played Riff at the last moment when bri4n was MIA, and lost my chance to see the trixie (*pout*) while doing my makeup. He showed up late and had an accident with a non-structural ceiling that got him kicked off the cast, making me the full-time Riff in his place (*mixed-feelings-but-excited*). Relaxed after-party at elctric_mayhem‘s.

Finally saw Shortbus! Really enjoyed it, especially the loving embrace of the juxtaposition of sweetness and torture in sex, though I think it bit off an awful lot for 101 minutes. Ended the weekend back with C. at tEP, and got an “I knew you from when you hypnotized me” from a passing undergrad.

Looking forward to a Salon-Party on Friday (good discussion, good food, good company– you’re welcome to join us!), and my trixie which I moved to April fools weekend.