You’re on the Air VIII

M

an, I think my brain is starting to get frazzled from all the hard questions. Why on earth would you want to know these tigns about me? You’re on the air with the O-man.

True Love

whonose: Does your wife read this site?

O-man: Are you kidding me? If she did, she’d kill me. Although I do tell her some of the things I write (editted, of course), she has little interest in the Internet, TV or anything else. She’d rather exercise. By the way, how do you cut in line–sorry, “queue” to you–so often?

whonose: Oh and another – why do your eprops never show up?

O-man: There is a script that disables e-props. I have disabled them because I don’t think they are necessary. Comments are more important than e-props, and I don’t need people “grading” my entries with 1 or 2 e-props. As if blogs could be graded. Hahahahah. That’s so rich… But, didn’t I talk about this already? *click* Hi. You’re on the air. What’s your question.

sekura81: Oh, this is gonna be fun. Hmm, thinking thinking thinking, What’s your favorite memory and why? 🙂

O-man: Ah, a good question. But I have to preface this first with mythoughts on memory. My philosophy–as stated on my main page and on the marquee of the JAJournal–is that everything is subjective. I could tell you a lot of “favorite” memories, but none of them are as they happened. How can they be? It’s virtually impossible to recount any complex situation–emotional, combination of weather-location-time of day-age, lasting more than one second, involving more that one person–with absolute accuracy. Indeed, everything I recount here is imbued with my own emotions and sensibilities, so they should not be taken as “facts” or some kind of “truth”. Ultimately, everything we remember is a kind of story that we manipulate to our liking. Who’s to say what is fact and what is a figment of my imagination. But still, this doesn’t mean that I view all my memories as some kind of fiction. I just remember my version of it. I know Bane will know what I’m talking about.

Anyway, I have many memories and I have written many of them right here for everyone to freely peruse–geez, my life has become an open book. But to single out one memory is difficult indeed. Actually, this reminds me of the Japanese movie After Life, in which the recently departed must choose their favorite memory so they can relive it for eternity in some version of paradise. Now if I had to relive one memory for the rest of eternity, it would be the night when I knew M was my soulmate. It was after I had worked out at the sports club where M was an aerobics instructor. A bunch of us, including M, went out drinking afterwards–beer tastes really good after a long work out. We had gone out as a group before, but this time, M made it a point to sit next to me at the table. I mean, I really wasn’t sure if she was meant to sit next to me, but that’s the impression I got and it made me feel special. After drinking, we were heading home and as we were walking toward the train station, she slipped her hand into mine, and something in my heart went bang. I can’t really explain it, but I knew at that very moment that I had to marry this woman. I probably sounds really corny to cynics, adn believe me, I used to be one of those cynics–my first marriage had convinced me that there is nosuch thing as true love. But this one simple act of holding my hand convinced me that I was wrong. the feeling was warm and exciting and reassuring. Yes, there is such a thing as true love, and I will never forget the sensation when I first felt it.

Of course, this could all be in my head, as I am remembering it as I want to remember it… But, hey, what’s wrong with that?

You’re on the Air VIII

M

an, I think my brain is starting to get frazzled from all the hard questions. Why on earth would you want to know these tigns about me? You’re on the air with the O-man.

True Love

whonose: Does your wife read this site?

O-man: Are you kidding me? If she did, she’d kill me. Although I do tell her some of the things I write (editted, of course), she has little interest in the Internet, TV or anything else. She’d rather exercise. By the way, how do you cut in line–sorry, “queue” to you–so often?

whonose: Oh and another – why do your eprops never show up?

O-man: There is a script that disables e-props. I have disabled them because I don’t think they are necessary. Comments are more important than e-props, and I don’t need people “grading” my entries with 1 or 2 e-props. As if blogs could be graded. Hahahahah. That’s so rich… But, didn’t I talk about this already? *click* Hi. You’re on the air. What’s your question.

sekura81: Oh, this is gonna be fun. Hmm, thinking thinking thinking, What’s your favorite memory and why? 🙂

O-man: Ah, a good question. But I have to preface this first with mythoughts on memory. My philosophy–as stated on my main page and on the marquee of the JAJournal–is that everything is subjective. I could tell you a lot of “favorite” memories, but none of them are as they happened. How can they be? It’s virtually impossible to recount any complex situation–emotional, combination of weather-location-time of day-age, lasting more than one second, involving more that one person–with absolute accuracy. Indeed, everything I recount here is imbued with my own emotions and sensibilities, so they should not be taken as “facts” or some kind of “truth”. Ultimately, everything we remember is a kind of story that we manipulate to our liking. Who’s to say what is fact and what is a figment of my imagination. But still, this doesn’t mean that I view all my memories as some kind of fiction. I just remember my version of it. I know Bane will know what I’m talking about.

Anyway, I have many memories and I have written many of them right here for everyone to freely peruse–geez, my life has become an open book. But to single out one memory is difficult indeed. Actually, this reminds me of the Japanese movie After Life, in which the recently departed must choose their favorite memory so they can relive it for eternity in some version of paradise. Now if I had to relive one memory for the rest of eternity, it would be the night when I knew M was my soulmate. It was after I had worked out at the sports club where M was an aerobics instructor. A bunch of us, including M, went out drinking afterwards–beer tastes really good after a long work out. We had gone out as a group before, but this time, M made it a point to sit next to me at the table. I mean, I really wasn’t sure if she was meant to sit next to me, but that’s the impression I got and it made me feel special. After drinking, we were heading home and as we were walking toward the train station, she slipped her hand into mine, and something in my heart went bang. I can’t really explain it, but I knew at that very moment that I had to marry this woman. I probably sounds really corny to cynics, adn believe me, I used to be one of those cynics–my first marriage had convinced me that there is nosuch thing as true love. But this one simple act of holding my hand convinced me that I was wrong. the feeling was warm and exciting and reassuring. Yes, there is such a thing as true love, and I will never forget the sensation when I first felt it.

Of course, this could all be in my head, as I am remembering it as I want to remember it… But, hey, what’s wrong with that?

You’re on the Air VIII

M

an, I think my brain is starting to get frazzled from all the hard questions. Why on earth would you want to know these tigns about me? You’re on the air with the O-man.

True Love

whonose: Does your wife read this site?

O-man: Are you kidding me? If she did, she’d kill me. Although I do tell her some of the things I write (editted, of course), she has little interest in the Internet, TV or anything else. She’d rather exercise. By the way, how do you cut in line–sorry, “queue” to you–so often?

whonose: Oh and another – why do your eprops never show up?

O-man: There is a script that disables e-props. I have disabled them because I don’t think they are necessary. Comments are more important than e-props, and I don’t need people “grading” my entries with 1 or 2 e-props. As if blogs could be graded. Hahahahah. That’s so rich… But, didn’t I talk about this already? *click* Hi. You’re on the air. What’s your question.

sekura81: Oh, this is gonna be fun. Hmm, thinking thinking thinking, What’s your favorite memory and why? 🙂

O-man: Ah, a good question. But I have to preface this first with mythoughts on memory. My philosophy–as stated on my main page and on the marquee of the JAJournal–is that everything is subjective. I could tell you a lot of “favorite” memories, but none of them are as they happened. How can they be? It’s virtually impossible to recount any complex situation–emotional, combination of weather-location-time of day-age, lasting more than one second, involving more that one person–with absolute accuracy. Indeed, everything I recount here is imbued with my own emotions and sensibilities, so they should not be taken as “facts” or some kind of “truth”. Ultimately, everything we remember is a kind of story that we manipulate to our liking. Who’s to say what is fact and what is a figment of my imagination. But still, this doesn’t mean that I view all my memories as some kind of fiction. I just remember my version of it. I know Bane will know what I’m talking about.

Anyway, I have many memories and I have written many of them right here for everyone to freely peruse–geez, my life has become an open book. But to single out one memory is difficult indeed. Actually, this reminds me of the Japanese movie After Life, in which the recently departed must choose their favorite memory so they can relive it for eternity in some version of paradise. Now if I had to relive one memory for the rest of eternity, it would be the night when I knew M was my soulmate. It was after I had worked out at the sports club where M was an aerobics instructor. A bunch of us, including M, went out drinking afterwards–beer tastes really good after a long work out. We had gone out as a group before, but this time, M made it a point to sit next to me at the table. I mean, I really wasn’t sure if she was meant to sit next to me, but that’s the impression I got and it made me feel special. After drinking, we were heading home and as we were walking toward the train station, she slipped her hand into mine, and something in my heart went bang. I can’t really explain it, but I knew at that very moment that I had to marry this woman. I probably sounds really corny to cynics, adn believe me, I used to be one of those cynics–my first marriage had convinced me that there is nosuch thing as true love. But this one simple act of holding my hand convinced me that I was wrong. the feeling was warm and exciting and reassuring. Yes, there is such a thing as true love, and I will never forget the sensation when I first felt it.

Of course, this could all be in my head, as I am remembering it as I want to remember it… But, hey, what’s wrong with that?