My mouth ran in front of me a bit last night. The upshot?

On Septa…
Me: And if you like the smell of urine — and you look like a person who likes the smell of urine — you might even try the Septa subway!
I apologized for that one, but still felt bad.

On hip jive…
Me: What’s down in Florida?
Her: A sister, an aunt…
Me: Okay, so family mostly.
Her2: And sun. And beaches.
Me: That’s slang for bitches, right?
Her2: No.

You can, in fact, teach a new box old tricks.

I’m working on abstracting this stuff into a DHTML animation class. Stay tuned for some code!

Facebook can be a fun toy.

Here’s a box you can toss into the air with a click. I wonder what else it can do.

Inductive reasoning plays a part in my life. My observations compound, converging on reality.

Induction is a style of reasoning that moves swiftly from specific observation to general assertion. For example, If I have seen no large sandwich that is not called a “Sub”, I might induct that all large sandwiches are called “Subs”.

The compounding inductor might have realized his previous inductive error upon the discovery of a large sandwich called a Hoagie. Perhaps he would then refuse to assert that all Whizzbangs are called Whizzbangs, allowing for the possibility of subcultures to whom they are Widgets.

Despite my simple example, a compounding of experience helps form our perception of reality. The scope of its development in people differs widely (age is a huge factor here), and through diverse experience it is quite simple to improve its accuracy. Well, to a point it is.

Some people rely solely upon extremely inaccurate inductive reasoning.

Learning improves the accuracy of one’s inductive reasoning. It’s a fascinating tool, but it is not the only one to possess.

I just read this story on Techcrunch. Full disclosure is that I didn’t even bother trying the site. I’ve had a bunch of time to think about this, developing a social network myself. Recently, you might have noticed that The Big F started sending the text of private messages along with emails. This is, in fact, a duplication of services. Not that I think Facebook is wrong in this practice, but what makes email inadequate?

I can see that The Wall has some validity, as do public Grapevine messages on Snooth, as do all private messages to people with whom you have no relationship prior to the social network in question. You necessarily do not BCC all your friends on email correspondence. For some people, private messages are just that — they manage their own private email servers and appreciate being able to do so.

I do believe that email is broken. It’s broken by spammers, it’s broken by buggy email sending software, it’s broken by bad practice. It’s still what we currently need, and I consider it somewhat sacred. Please, keep your private emails private. Consider the content and the recipient, and get a private email account if you can.

If anyone knows a good place to get a private server (no external access) that has an easy streamlined setup for the normal user, please post about it in the comments. Mostly I rent space at a virtual hosting house and set up my own email — beyond the average ken.

The party included a jam session upstairs, with people cycling through all of the instruments, jumping on and off the mic. I played the tambourine, and I met a woman there, a jazzy, hip musical burnout with a swagger and fantastic lips. She and I shared a night of awkward flirting, mostly because I was outclassed. I don’t know her name. And I was into that, and I’ll never see her again, and I’m just as into that.

She’s going to be with me for a while. A week, a month maybe. I’ll replay the tape a bunch of times. And I’ll put it on my blog. And I’ll refuse to give her a name, and mostly I’ll remember that swagger, that melting step. That deliberate swing. And I’ll attribute it to the booze, but secretly hope she has it on the train in the morning.

And that’s the cool part. Because I’m touched by experience, and because I didn’t stand in the corner all evening, and because it was awkward, and because it’s all a dream in the end, why would I ever suspect I couldn’t do whatever I wished? And if I can and I don’t, what stays my hand? And don’t you all share the same power? And why shouldn’t that be wonderfully terrifying?

I saw a flat tire from across the street and started playing with the zoom on my camera. I was trying to be serious, but really? This photo is extremely shaky.

On my second attempt, I nailed it.

Practice makes awful. In my defense I was juggling babies with my off-shooting hand.

It is safe to assume that anything there is to be known about me… that is, most of that which has been manifested outside of my head… is already known by someone. Sometimes that someone is a person I know or a friend of mine. Sometimes it’s an internet company watching my browsing. Sometimes it is a retail store looking to optimize their service of my needs and in the process their profits.

I do not condemn any entity for knowing such things, after all it’s either natural or it’s common sense. What is interesting to me is that, while all of that data exists, it does not share the same owner. I suppose the aggregate of that data would not quite be a god, but it would be close enough to dramatically affect my life.

That being said, my suspicion is that the aggregate of the complimentary set of data — that which is not manifest — is a far larger set. With a greater proportion of absolute truck.