Pattern: The Pantry of Collaboration; Warboys and Football; Fiefdom; Updates
The Pantry of Collaboration:
The pantry of water dispensation and snacks is somewhere everybody goes eventually, and I’ve come to realise it’s amazing. It’s a place where you cross paths with people you wouldn’t normally — whether you’re avoiding them or otherwise — but because of its random nature, you meet, and then you make small talk, and sometimes things happen from the spontaneous conversation or collaboration.
Warboys and Football
This week at musical improv rehearsal, we didn’t have music, which forced us to sing with our own rhythm/to a song nobody else could hear. That was tough, but impressive, especially as we were forced to create new rhythms to fill up the silence, which including whispering echoes or clapping. I must admit I felt pleased and proud to have created a marching song/war chant based on the crowd songs sung on football terraces. There’s something tribal in the rhythm, easy to sing and audible even when thousand of people sing it out of tune/time/spite/rhythm:
People tend to have things or shticks or gimmicks that they enjoy and repeat. Call them patterns, if you will. Sometimes it’s a part of their identity, sometimes it’s a favourite joke or a pretension. They tend to defend their fiefdoms and eventually become defensive of them. Say geeks, or gamers, which I identify with — sometimes the “I game! And I’m proud!” tag becomes excessive. Dude, nobody’s putting down videogamers or board games; they’re actually popular now.
There are people who like to put down others’ fiefdoms, though. A few “lol pokemon go” dissenters on the bus; then again there were three of us with the same scrolling screen, so it might’ve felt like an unnecessarily popular fad.
Hipsters are a fiefdom too.
I see patterns often; they’re great because they’re replicable and beautiful and useful. I will write about patterns.
I deleted and quit dota again for what is it now, the fourth time? It’s all too easy to lose a couple hours to it. Now I creatively waste the time, so it’s a different sort of strain. V. interesting, still.
I shall write more, esp. about patterns.
I look like I’ve lost weight, in my efforts to lift. It has been about three months now, including a month where I sat around because of a busted ankle and then rushed back. I might slow on the weight progression because I feel my lifting form is terrible (I get occasional niggles from my lower back).
There’s this new thing I do, where I look in the mirror and think ‘yeah! looking good!’ This is at least useful in spurring me on to keep at working out, but also vaguely vainglorious and against stoicism, so I shall stop that, or try to delight less. Memento mori; I found how terrible my posture and appearance was in a candid selfie.
I shall also do some reading and studying.