the paranoid android

In the PJ Masks narrator voice saying "Night, in the city!": Dawn, in the kitchen!

Everything is quiet. Everyone else is still in bed. Meemaw is tippy toeing and gently opening and closing doors and cupboards, making coffee, getting the stove ready to make breakfast. She thinks tater tots would make a nice side to scrambled eggs mixed with crumbled bacon and topped with cheese, opens the freezer door, leans in to reach to the back for the tater tots, and suddenly the soft quiet is sharply broken with an abrupt D SAYS DUH. D SAYS DUH. EVERY LETTER MAKES A SOUND. D SAYS DUH.

That was almost to the tune of Farmer in the Dell, if you need audio context.

People who invent loud fridge magnet toys for kids- STOP THAT.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A friend of mine let me know some weeks ago that HHGTTG had only been seen in cinema form, not read in novel form. I mentioned that I hated the Marvin incarnations in cinema, which was difficult to explain to someone who missed the books, so here we go, this is why.

If you read this wikipedia entry you will see in the novelization that "Suddenly, he is kidnapped by a squad of Krikkit war robots, who are after his leg, a fragment of the key that will reopen their imprisoned world and restart the genocidal Krikkit War. Thinking that Marvin's intelligence will be an asset, they wire his brain into the interfaces of their intelligent war computer. This is a mistake. The once formidable Krikkit robots find themselves overcome with crippling sorrow and depression, and rather than focusing on their mission of extermination, instead sulk in corners doing quadratic equations. It is also due to Marvin's influence that Zaphod and the others' lives are spared by the Krikkit robots. Marvin is (presumably) rescued by his friends, who bring him back to the Heart of Gold." In fact, Marvin's LEG is a part of the intergalactic Krikkit Wars, and on our earth the game of Cricket is a long forgotten tribute to that war.

The way Marvin shows up in cinema form totally screws this humongously important bit of TRIVIA. So, I loathe watching Marvin in movies. Any true fan creating and recreating that story for film would have gotten that bit right.

Also, from here, "Krikkit also managed to leave other marks besides the destruction of numerous worlds: due to racial memories, the Earth sport of cricket and the pan-dimensional sport of Brockian Ultra-Cricket were based on the Krikkit Wars. Slartibartfast enjoys the game of cricket, but he notes that most sensible citizens of the galaxy find the sport to be in rather bad taste."

My Janika Banks tagline is from this HHGTTG series. I'm a devout Douglas Adams fan, and so much of his Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series involves intricately woven historical details around robots that if you really and truly want to understand the foundation of the Pinky Robot concept, you need to go read that series. There are 6 books. Not being paid to link these.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy(1979) Hardcover  Paperback  Kindle
The Restaurant at the End of the Universe(1980) Hardcover  Paperback  Kindle
Life, the Universe and Everything(1982) Hardcover  Paperback  Kindle
So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish(1984) Hardcover  Paperback  Kindle
Mostly Harmless(1992) Hardcover  Paperback  Kindle
And Another Thing...(2009) Hardcover  Paperback  Kindle

Anyway, Marvin is a major player throughout the entire series and drastically undercut in film, which sends me into a seething corner in my mind. Don't get me wrong, I love the 2005 movie and all the actors in it, especially the whole Magrathea scene. Just... big fail on Marvin. He's supposed to be more than cute and funny.

You can read up on Krikkit and other planets of interest in HHGTTG here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

We are all wildly brain scattered this weekend, so I can't keep my focus on anything else in particular. I think this is about as close as it gets to our heads right now. 'Scuze me while we run into town to look for a new tie.

pre-feeling fail with all my phalanges crossed

Decided to put the blogger stat counter back. It's awkward because I don't feel it's accurate for sets of real eyes on kind of thing, but after some thought, whoever out there is doing this little game is actually jacking me into leveling up. I don't approve of this method, like I don't approve of people running to vote sites on cue every hour or day to jack numbers because it's not a true feedback, but what the heck, right? Let bygones be bygones. Besides, I'm not the only one obsessed with the numbers thing.
Everything You Ever Wanted to Know about Pageviews

I'm not monetized. I have never monetized any of my blogs and probably never will. I don't use the traffic and content game to pull a dime around. Some people are actually able to live off of that, some nickel and dime it getting a few bills paid, some work feverishly on wringing a few pennies out. I don't sweat it. I'm not blogging to milk anyone for profit. I don't push cheering sections or grow my army, although my bounce rate is pretty sweet and I've been told by other website owners that I drive fairly nice traffic. You guys have seen me fuss about piggyback apps and bot swarms and even real people here and there, but mostly all I care about is that my name is everywhere. Janika Banks is a real business name I registered with a local legal office some years ago. I never made a cent off of it, but I wasn't trying to. I just wanted to see how that all works. Well, now I want to see how far I can push that.

Lately I'm a bit frustrated with irl and curve balls and cosmic target gaffes. I know it's time. I can feel it. I have so many interruptions popping up in my way every single day now that all I can do is laugh and proceed with one eye twitching like a madman and the other side of my head stabbing me with the stress headache from a weird mockery of hell. (I love Sartre. I was first exposed to that story in an advanced French class, so I had the added bonus of reading and testing in another language, but the story is delightfully painful.) Where was I? Oh yeah. I believe I've shared this before, but it's still accurate and apropos. I may have reached this point now where all that's left to do is just run like hell and take all the crap if I wanna really get this done.

last of 2016 30 day challenge- Day Six

I got so much stuff done today that I nearly killed Jawn, or at least it started sounding like it. I was clicking download commands and jumping up and running off every couple minutes getting more stuff done around the house. This was pure salvage, trying to recover what I lost when old lappy croaked off, just hours of material that is taking forever to replace. Anyway, kinda reached a critical heat exhaustion point I've never seen Jawn reach before, so I closed up shop and watched HGTTG, and now I'm getting ready to go to bed. Super early morning running out my door, lotta stuff to do.

I am very surprised, briefly booting up to make sure everything is ok, that Pinky blog still got hit more today than Lexxperience did, even with all the big broohaha about Brigadoom, and even though I didn't push the tweet links on a major hashtag day. I'm still not sure whether to find that disturbing. I mostly don't think about it, but I really did expect this to be a much slower Pinky day. Whatever. Day six won't be slow for me in real life, regardless.

I could sit here and go on about how hard things are. I could muse on people who have it harder and how keeping priorities and context are good. But truth is, I don't give a rip how hard it is, and I especially don't care about context that doesn't apply to me. I want to get my stuff DONE so bad I can hardly stand it.

If you knew without a doubt you only had a month to live, what could you get done? I'm not under any kind of prognosis, I'm still in pretty good shape, but seriously. I've been respectfully spending the last few days a bit more reclusive while we work through how we feel about someone else down to his last days. What do you say, what does it mean, what is the point if all the in-between wasn't important enough. How will we spend our own last days.

2016 kinda slipped by me. I calmed down, that's good. My brain is working waaaay better, that's super good. I'm on a good track with doing all the things right. But that's still no guarantee, is it? I've already outlasted a few people I thought were in better shape than I am. When I came back out in 2012, I felt like I was running a race to get my stuff done before I couldn't any more. 2016 has felt like I took a lap off. My sense of urgency has snapped back, and I'm running again, watching a clock, because I don't know when it gets more real and this part is over. I can't afford to wait another 4 years to get my stuff done.

I'm not going to waste 2017.

Vote Beeblebrox

my voting sox 2016 #PinkySox 

Waving hello to the variety of countries visiting me from facebook links this last couple of weeks. Top hits outside the U.S. are from Canada, UK, Germany, France, and Ireland. All y'alls are big on vote stuffs, I hear ya. 'Muricans are being a bit silly over here and the fate of the world is in our hands, omg.

And I'm not making fun, I know all you guys are way closer to the nukes and other missiles currently revving up than we are.

Also, hello California *mwah*, buncha sweethearts over there watching the Missouri experimentation and testing area for what's coming next. For those who don't know what I mean, I casually mentioned years ago that militarized police were seen eating lunch at a Mexican restaurant in Nixa (birth place of Jason Bourne), and that was pre-Ferguson. I kind of disappeared into the mist for awhile, because it got super weird when Langley area hits super revved up on my blogs after Obama got in, but I'm used to it now and we're cool. I'm being a good little 'Murican, watching my TV and talking about my meds and socializing like a good little consumer.

I know people who have worked themselves up silly over this. They feel sick, for realz. I grew up in a family where prophetic doom and gloom were more exciting than birthday and Christmas, so I'm in chomping popcorn mode and grinning like a silly idiot. These click out.

Hang on, it's time to run out the door and go vote so @bonenado can get to work. Back in a few.

votevotevotevotevotevote

Ok, I'm back.

Vote now!

Who would you vote for?

Bilbo Baggins (can be trusted with the Arkenstone)

Michonne (wields the sword of truth aka katana)

Austin Powers (he's got mojo, yeah baby yeahhhh)

Felicity Smoak (the only mistake she made was leaving Oliver)

survey

I actually take voting very seriously. I get after @bonenado for skipping some of the bubbles when there's only one candidate on the ballot (like treasurer or something), but I couldn't bring myself to vote for 'Growcock', had to skip that one. I'm sure she's awesome, but I just can't SAY I voted for ...

Why? Because I cannot keep a straight face. I launch right into asthma attacks laughing so hard. I just can't. I refuse to risk dying laughing over something like that.

K, I've got serious minecraft stuff to work on, plus I've already stripped the bedding into the laundry because time for winter sheets to go on the bed, and stuff out to finally make my chocolate cake waffles. I know, right, nothing like finally getting to my birthday plans 2 weeks after my birthday. October was the longest month, just glad it's done and autumn finally arrived here (November casually mutated into awesome like Hey, sup?), and now it's countdown to turkey (Macy's Parade!!!) and Christmas (hiding presents!!!) and I'm in a froody mood.

base reality

If you were paying any kind of attention to social media at all this weekend, you saw the Elon Musk thing rip through. Guys, the simulated universe idea is nothing new at all.

I've been leaning for years toward this experience we have on earth being a learning program. My first hint at this thought was on 3-30-08. If you're on mobile, you might be able to turn your tech sideways to see that. My next big mention in one of my most read posts ever (outside of anything Lexx) was on 7-23-08, but I transferred that so mobile viewing will work. "One of my ideas is that our linear experiences on this planet in this 3D medium in our bodies is like a learning program. The physical teaches us symbolically through the emotional about the spiritual, which are ultimately conflicting viewpoints by themselves."

Even millennia ago, some Eastern religions believed we are a dream one of the gods is having. The idea that we aren't 'real' has been around as long as we could think about being. Thousands of years of philosophies and religions and now science propose that this world we think we live in might not be what we think it is.

Unfortunately, I think the whole boiling us down to AI sims is redundant. AI is something I don't ascribe to. Artificial intelligence is a misnomer, in my opinion. Us thinking and assuming we're intelligent and aware in the first place is kind of a joke to me. "Anyway, we’re all doing pretty much the same thing. Breathing, eating, sleeping, and filling up the rest of our time multiplying, working, recreating, and generally annoying each other. It seems so empty when you zoom out a little too far and see the bigger picture. We’re not all that different from worms writhing around in the soil. We’ve only elevated ‘awareness’ to an art form, and I’m not sure the people around me are all that aware."

The funniest thing about this vid capture is not that two different villagers are overlaying each other, but that one of the players named an avi NielsBohr. Talk about layering AI simulations...


I think our biggest hangup is our sense of self, realizing that we are autonomous and 'alone' without a hive mind, and longing for 'someone out there' to understand us, reassure us, validate us. We 'woke up' and saw our selves. I wrote that on 5-27-08. Seems like 2008 was a really thinky year for me, but that's just the year I started writing it out for public. I've been thinking about this stuff all my life.

Let's assume for a moment that we're not in base reality, as Elon says. Is there a base reality? Does he even ask that question? Elon thinks the whole AI simulation thing could be so layered that the odds of us being in base reality would be in the billions against. He's looking at it wrong. The odds of me being in this particular locality are 100%. If we are here, we are here to learn something. I see absolutely no other reason, real or made up, to exist in a world where we think like this. Everything we do and think in this life seems to be about what we have learned about ourselves and about interacting with others. Everything we think about this world is a judgement we make about ourselves. Why?

I almost brought a post out of private for this. Almost. I wrote it last year almost to the day, and it's marked as book content.

I'm not debating against Elon, but I think he needs to take his blinders off, along with the rest of the world. If we're going to reduce the religious and political conflict on this planet down to AI simulations that aren't even base reality, we need to at least give it the dignity of being important for an understandable reason. We are real. Our sufferings are real. Our hopes and dreams and daily grinds to get there are real. Even Einstein struggled with the concept of locality and being in the now. This is important because our world always seems on the brink of shattering, not just in the news, but within ourselves. We grasp and cling for beliefs of any kind to hold onto, as though our tenuous living is barely enough to even want to be 'real'.

By the way, anyone else pick up on Alex Trusk being an allusion to Elon Musk in Cube 2: Hypercube? (soundtrack sample) (my review, it's very short) (Here's a better review) Not saying that was done on purpose for the film, but it's fun to think about.


Yeah, you guys get all hyper about Elon's base reality thing. "This isn't a game." "The first one had RULES..." And I'm always bringing up Minecraft being Magrathea, so Elon bringing up our existence not being base reality in a plethora of AI simulations is meh. Already been there, dude. Nice that you're super wealthy and quoted around the planet, but some of our brains out here are every bit as big as yours. wassappening No, I'm not a wunderkind owning the planet, but neither am I satisfied with accepting quidproquo, as it were. I really hope you keep it transparent, Elon, because I'll be really disappointed if you don't, and I'm counting on you to keep leveling up and change the world before it really does blow up.

:edit 35 minutes after original post time: That wassappening post just hit into all time top 10, and getting hit harder than this one, so thanx whoever is doing that link sharing, you rock.

In the meantime, some of you are still getting Pinky blog confused with Pinky XXX in searches and winding up here. Yes, have some brain candy.

#IWriteAboutItBecause

btw, loving John Rhys-Davies in The Shannara Chronicles

Last night was pretty exciting. I was having a buncha big thoughts in the shower and wound up thinking about how not even the Doctor could get the Sliders back home, like you do, and emerged to @bonenado feeling upset about not being able to find his giant stomper hunting boots that he'd been rummaging around in the basement for and suddenly switching gears wanting to know if I'd want to watch The Blacklist, and I gave up, all my cool thoughts went down another drain again, held frustration at bay hoping I'd be able to pick them back up later, because I had a neat idea I was going someplace with. And now #IWriteAboutItBecause I'm hoping I can trigger back to where I laid down those thoughts.

First order of business was to squelch the ADHD and redirect, so I led the way back down into the basement and patiently refocused gerbil brain back into more logical questioning over and over, do you remember the last time you actually had the boots, did they disappear before Thanksgiving because remember Twink was moving and there's all this 'new' stuff down here now, the mini trampoline kept coming up so obviously there was a reason the boots had to move off the trampoline (I conceded his logic for them being on it in the first place was actually sound to his way of thinking), and over a little time putting a picture back together from probably about 8 weeks ago, he suddenly went straight to them buried out of sight between and under a bunch of furniture and sacks and boxes covering a kids' plastic picnic table, where they were sitting on the seat off the floor. (He's watched every version of Sherlock ever made, I don't get how this process of rebuilding a crime scene hasn't sunk in yet.) (Maybe that's why I was always bored with all the other Sherlock versions and he's still glued to Elementary.) (I really hate Elementary, I have to leave the room.)

See, you can't get basement floor odor on the soles of hunting boots by setting them on the floor. It's ok if they sit on everything else... We've had lengthy discussions through the years about the mysteries of odors and hunting superstitions, so yay, we found the boots and went back upstairs to watch The Blacklist. I really don't think Elizabeth Keene should have been able to recover that quickly from a nitrogen-heavy suffocation that blacked her out, but I digress and the show must go on.

And then Scott dreamed about drugs and the FBI swarming his work last night while I dreamed about alt worlds where I made other really cool stuff on the webs that felt so real that I had a hard time waking back up to this world and going, 'oh'. Not as cool here as the last me I visited.

So here I am, coffee in the brain, and still trying to remember that really cool thing I was thinking last night in the shower that I couldn't wait to get out and write down before I forgot it and then got brain bombed. The danger of getting back into the shower and trying to recreate the scene is having all new cool thoughts crowding out the old ones that slipped away, so best just stay out of the shower for awhile and see if some utter peace and quiet will bring it back, now that @bonenado has left for work.

Mondays are like this. Every Monday. Every. Monday. My brain and I getting reacquainted, chatting about this and that over coffee. Starting all over again with making a Plan. Scott is still driving my car, but I hope to be getting my keycodes to the new lappy guy by Wednesday and picking new lappy up by the end of the week. Might be coming out of the depression dip soon, kinda seeing shafts of light getting into the darker corners again. Arms hurt like heck all night because I held my phone watching the live tweet feed while the Vikings teetered on the edge of ridiculous fail, so I've gotta stay away from my phone today and let my arms rest again. My hands finally stopped hurting somewhere in the night. You know, I don't say much (I really don't), but when a person can't even hold a spoon to stir something, yeah. You should see me putting jeans on. Ok, maybe you shouldn't. I have this trick where I hook my thumbs in the belt loops to pull them up. I've already been through a couple of years where I couldn't tie shoes or even put on my own socks, so I've got all these little tricks I'm going back to.

I do know that idea had something to do with 'all of time and space' being just a tiny blip in the reality of our own universe amid a consortium of multiverses (a bunch of a bunch, I just wrote), and how one would go about conveying that idea in a story. So I started crossing Doctor Who and Sliders and had this brilliant epiphany of phraseology (that's a real word, guys), and *boop* it's gone.

Really wish someone would do a fanvid of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to Lady GaGa's Edge of Glory. If I had the time to sit and do stuff like that I'd have whole novels on the market by now. I need staff to do frivolous things for me.



Nope, still haven't recovered that thought. Maybe later today. In the meantime, making my way through another Monday to some kind of breakfast.

compared to what

Thanx to a friend's character name on an RP board, I dreamed about an old boss I'm not at all fond of all night with the same name. It got weird. No, I'm not telling you. Because. Ok, all I'm saying is I nearly got caught hiding the butter, the office was a wreck, he was using an old WWII radio mic, and for some reason, the British were coming and threatening to break in and I nearly got caught stealing his butter out of the break room fridge. Yes, there's more, that's all you're getting. Of all the people in the world I never wanna have another sexual tension dream about, it's him, and one of these days one of my dreams will go epic and then I'll hafta deal with the morning PTSD of having raped and murdered my old boss in my dream. The WWII mic really threw you guys, didn't it? I think it was an allegory for how bad he was at communicating during our morning meetings. Also, I was in the store when the Twin Towers got bombed. There's way more, but seriously, that's it. Those dreams are nearly as bad as my old school bus dreams that went on for years and years. No, I have no idea what the butter was about. Yes, I'm pretty sure we can all guess. I stole his mojo. Srsly. One day he was off the clock and walking through the store in super short super thin shiny gym shorts, and of course everyone he walks by tells him how hot he looks, as he passes me I snort and blurt that he looks totally gay in those shorts (he had a wife and five kids), and everything just went spiraling down like a smoking biplane since then. He jumped on the death of a child in my family as an opportunity to harass me till I broke and left just before my 401K rolled into its 5 year thingy. The nightmares ever since then have been ludicrously laced with sexual tension and one-upmanship (I looked that up, that's the way to properly spell it). Doesn't help at all that he really was kinda hawt.

No. No new lappy yet. Tuesday night was all about @bonenado's pickup, so since I had to run in against traffic in the dark ahead of possible freezing rain, we went ahead and got the shopping done and I just canceled my appointment Wednesday and stayed home. So still on old croaky offy lappy. Yes, he's still driving my car.

My brain is all blurred up. This whole FOCUS!!! thing is only grinding my wheels on one blog right now, and I think I'm pretty much done with dredging my soul as writing practice. Some of you are going thank god. Others are going but leave in the dreams.

So, 2015- Conquered fears, processed deaths, clawed a few eyeballs, found an old friend, got Sherlocked, explained all the things, watched numbers, learned out to make tables, got a new phone, discovered banoffee, counted sox, ran with a goat god gang, had good holidays for once, decided being called a sox goddess was a little overboard with the whole Pinky sox porn pun and generally drew back into a shell, although thankfully not my cave.

2016 so far- Totally dumped a buncha twitter lists, scaling down public priorities, cut a few projects, sized down my gangs, going underground more to WORK, still want staff to help me interface with my publisher, but dang it, one last hurdle to wrap my head around called "close your eyes and hit that frakkin send button", and all kinds of Lexx about to consume my life while facepalming my way through learning more new stuffs, which my brain is rebelling against even thinking about right now, but I'm obviously in a mood to raze last year to the ground and start fresh.

The mitosis thing cracks me up.

this source rocks, click if you're bored

Meanwhile. #brainfry You guys didn't see the old days when I wrote limericks of luv to a dead assassin on an RP board as a robot head. I'm not very good at this stuff at all (although I'm awesome with limericks), but I can totally see this one if Khan ever fixated on a pet.



Oh well, moving on with the day as best one can with a 3-day (so far) headache. I actually forgot about coffee entirely for about 20 minutes because I was so brainless dragging out of bed.



This just made my day. I'm going to run this 100 times while I do stuff.

till death do we part

Caught up on Agents of Shield last night with @bonenado. He watches it, I just pop in for the blue parts. Took 3 frickin seasons to get this far. I can't wrap my head around going that slow. Clicks out to full size if you want to download it for a wallpaper. If I had the money I'd have a whole bedroom wall done up like this.

I've added Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to my marathon stack this week because it's a perfect New Year's Eve movie.

Yes. Mine. Her. Best Christmas ever.

reoriented

So Christmas is all mailed off, New Year's resolutions are done, dreamed about Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy all night long (I assume in some elaborate response to last night's trip to the pond), but no asplosions and the world is still here because I live in the Plural Sector now, so let's get the jams on and GET TO WORK.



This scene, especially, kept showing back up in my dreams, only I was the one with the gun shooting people.



Bless fans. Just, bless them.



GET TO WORK! >=l FOCUS!!!

the Question

I think I've figured out that the flash drive thing bothering me so much was because I went through actual fail for several years. One of the reasons I started hoarding info on tech was because the brain crash was unbelievably sucky and tech became an extention of my brain, holding elusive thoughts and glitchy memories in place for me. And here I am on the other side now apparently almost traumatized by the shock of having gone through it. I don't think I could really see the overall emotional impact until that flash drive fail happened.

It's one thing to cut off feelings (all my life) or even memories here or there (blocking is a survival tactic), but it's another to have systems fail because of viral infection hitting an already faulty nervous system and being left with glitchy old strings of Christmas tree lights. I spent years rebuilding and reconnecting through a haze of meds and seemingly neverending illness, and about the time I've finally started feeling like I'm patched back up and clearing the debris field, I go through a very symbolic memory crash with that flash drive. Thank goodness it was only a stick and not my brain this time. All the same, I've been reeling through several days of flash backs and emotions, and even though I'm actually quite up for the most part, I'm realizing I've never really talked about what it was like back then. The closest I came to being really honest in public was blinking in the light on my spaz blog. Up to that point, not a soul in internet land and all the fandoms I'd been in ever had a clue. No one who met me after 2004 ever met the me before brain fail.

As I've recovered my cognitive function, I've also recovered some memories and reconstructed more out of a pile of rubble covered in brain fog. This last year has been marvelous and thrilling like I haven't felt in 11 years. Anybody read Flowers for Algernon? That. That was me. Only I started off with this brilliant IQness and a nearly perfect ACT score and plummeted to the black depths of not being able to count a little bit of cash buying a burger. I asked bank tellers and cashiers to count my money for me for several years. I couldn't dial a phone number without help. Nope, not one sign of any kind of brain damage, or blood vessel problem, or cancer, or anything else, just function loss and some outlying trigeminal nerve damage. And even now, every time I get a simple cold virus or even just too tired teetering on the edge of flare up, I go all glitchy again.

I feel like Rip Van Winkle. I've gotten to wake up for awhile and everything has changed, and I've gotta get all over the program before I fall out of step again, because surely this can't last. I feel like I'm racing the sad, and the more I can look back and see it now, the harder I run. And I don't think this is an irrational fear. I've already got four really big strikes against me and was barely into my 40's when the brain crash happened. I can still hardly believe sometimes it's all coming back on again.

Lupus and the Brain
Diabetes and Memory Loss
Lyme Disease and Cognitive Impairements
Fibro Fog and Dyscognition

Memory glitch, loss, fail, whatever you want to call it is such an incredibly sad and lonely thing to go through. It's bad enough living with prosopagnosia and not remembering faces, but to not remember times and events and which holiday is coming up next is like feeling lost all the time. And how do you say this to anyone? How do you tell people in the wake of your impact that you're flying blind in a ship that lost its core memory? Big nod of thanks to Douglas Adams for providing frames of reference via Grebulons and Hactar the Krikkit war computer. The whole Janika Banks tagline thing is about surviving epic fail. "I asploded. I'm ok. Like the Central Intelligence Core of the Krikkit War Computer, I'm everywhere, in the mists all around you." Because that's what it's been like since 2004, leaving people in the aspienado wake of my brain fail impact. You guys realize it's the mice's faults for building Deep Thought in the first place, right? (I'm also epstein-barr positive from an actual mouse bite. How ironic is that.)

I feel like I've got to say all the things before I can't again.
(Lyrics- Anni B Sweet)