The a few days after that on Fosstodon (open source distributed social
media) I came across the https://100daystooffload.com/ challenge
which, basically encourages you to “just write”. Good timing.
Here it is.
And to get away from it all tonight we played (well, continued) a game
of Civilization: Famine, Strife, Civil War, Flood,
Earthquakes, Volcanoes, but strangely no epidemic (yet).
There are some amazing online singing events happening now around
the world: Denmark, Australia, Nashville, etc. I want to highlight
a couple examples of that to add brightness to these dark times.
Human beings have an unquenchable desire to live in community.
Singing has always been an expression of that. Modern technology
has enabled it.
Getting started in life is harder right now. I have two college age
sons who both just finished up their year with online classes, and
both are home now. In “normal” times they would be working summer jobs or participating
in other activities that would help them advance toward their chosen
careers. Jobs may or may not happen. Even getting out of the house
may not happen much. These are weird times.
I’ve section-hiked over 1000 miles on the Appalachian Trail.
Through-hikes have been shut down this year, upsetting plans
people have made for years. I’m headed out today to do maintenance
today. Not sure what I’ll find. I will be good to be out.
not even non-technical users need a “public DNS” to shield themselves
from a lot of known-evil internet sites. check out @The_Pi_Hole or
have your 12yo child or cousin install it.
..but I always make things harder.
Figure 1: pi-hole console after a few hours on my system
Steve Wilhite is the most prolific programmer I’ve ever known. He’s
mostly remembered for creating GIF but he spent 30 years writing piles
of amazing software which helped set the stage for the Web.
A few years ago, my mother went through the effects of her cousin
after she died. It turns out Thelma Jane wrote poetry. Nobody knew.
It wound up in the trash.
Thelma lived alone. Her husband had died in his 40s. They had no
children. Her mother, my great-aunt Bess, lived to 102 and took her
first motorcycle ride at 100. My mom had to go through Thelma’s stuff
and Aunt Bess’ stuff, most of which Thelma still had. I now have some
of the leftovers. But nobody wanted the poetry. So it’s gone.
This brings me to the question this article explores: why write?
