Archive Span: August 29 to September 11, a month in autumn.

2:50pm September 11
A surreal day, etched in the bright shadows and burning sunlight of mid-September. I am walking in a dream, down a sidewalk teaming with people, in a small village near the western seaboard. Somewhere far away from me, orchestrated destruction has ended the lives of thousands. The twin towers of America's most obvious capitalist landmark are gone, blown to the ground, as clean as if it were a demolition. And I'm shocked to grieve.

The news reports are full of war, and the sickly-sweet plans for revenge. As others focus inwards to repair this wound, America's military frets, arming it's bases, yearning to lash out without the hindrance of thought. To annihilate whatever brought the pain. Be warned, guilt by association is a crime fit for death, and all they can talk about is the fight upcoming.

This is not nostalgia. I never liked the WTC, or anything it tried to stand for. And the pentagon is ominous, terrifying. Scary to a peacenik Canadian like myself. If these structures didn't exist in the first place, I'd feel better about the whole country... but it's not the physical buildings that bother me, nor the poor, poor people that worked within. It's the ideology that necessitates the structure's existence, the twin spectres of military and finance. This erasure changes nothing of that, and only introduces pain, conflict, remorse, rage. There is nothing good of it, no faint saving grace, no possible lesson learned. Just the ugly threat of death, the shocking loss. And I understand why the world never negotiates with terrorists, why they are an evil far worse than what you could normally rationalise. Terrorism is war: a brutal war without pretense, without sanction. This morning was the first salvo of another campaign, executed with fatal precision. There will be no white flag.

9:11pm September 5
Yesterday I went canoeing to Harwood. For those of you who don't know Powell River, Harwood Island plays a major role as the distant black line in about 50% of my known photographs. You'd think that an isle just out from my literal doorstep would be completely explored by now, but I had believed it all to be off-limits. Since the entire land mass is an ancient native burial ground. Just recently, one of my clients told me that locals were allowed to trespass, so long as we didn't stay over. Sleeping at a burial site wasn't exactly on my agenda, so I happily agreed...

At any rate, the scene was beautiful. You should have been there, mysterious audience person. I don't understand why human-free places just, well, *look* so much better. I'll have some pictures up in an eon or so.
9:55am August 29
I should really be fixing up instead, but the boulder is rolling now. Why try to shift our course? It's been long enough coming, as the prehistory tries to show. Yes, there's still Netscape 6 issues to sort out. And some of the sections aren't brimming over with vibrant content just yet. But folks, we have a well-animated skeleton.

The Present.