AAARRRGGGGHHH!!!!!

Because of the ongoing issues with tumblr and disqus, I’m moving this blog to another site. For future updates, please go to thisapparatus.blogspot.com, it’s my new blog. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Sitting here listening to The Black Dahlia Murder’s “Statutory Ape”, great song. Those crazy chaps in that band have a way with lyrics. Anyway, the surgery went well yesterday, my fourth surgery so far. I’m averaging slightly less then two surgeries per year. At first I was reluctant to call this a surgery, but when I saw the steak they cut off my back (slight exaggeration) I decided that it was, indeed, a surgery. I got a few pictures of it before I left the Dr’s office, and I’m tempted to post then on here. They’re pretty gross so I think I might spare you. If you want to see them, shoot me an email and I’ll send them to you (seattle252@gmail.com).

They took part of the tattoo, my last name now looks like “MCNUTEAUX”. Kinda Irish looking, I guess. The incision is about 5 inches long or so, looks like it’s going to heal up with very minimal scaring.

By the way, I don’t know what’s going on with the comments on this blog. Every time I think about looking into it, I just decide to do it later and it never gets done. If you want to comment, just shout out your window and let the comment be carried to me on the wind. Sound like a plan? If anyone wants to figure the comments out for me, I’d gladly supply you with my passwords and everything. I’m lazy. So very lazy.

So this morning I’m going in to have the skin around the second melanoma removed to prevent it from spreading. It’s going to be a relatively simple procedure. It’ll be done under a local anesthesia, and right in the dermatologist’s office. I’m told he will cut a football shaped piece (that will include a part of my old English “MONUTEAUX” I have tattooed across my back), then sew it up. Should be about 2.5 inches. Hopefully I’ll get some sweet pain drugs and spend the rest of my afternoon chilling out :)

In other news, my Christmas was fantastic! I got to spend a ton of time with my whole immediate family, which is a treat in and of itself. I received a very beautiful quilt from my very beautiful sister Jeannine. It’s very…me. Skulls, beer, motorcycles, music, guitars, galaxies and planets, etc… If you’d like to see it, it’s sitting atop my bed.

I was thinking the other day about the internet. Does anyone ever stop and think about what the internet really is? Where is the internet? Who is the boss of the internet? Steve Jobs? Bill Gates? Julian Assange? Daniel Tosh? All of us?

You know what the internet reminds me of? A brain. Imagine how brains work. You’ve got neurons in the billions, each one connected to a number of other neurons through axons in an indescribably complex net of interconnectedness. One neuron receives a signal, like an electrical impulse that says “send me to four neighbors”, then, when the signal reaches those four neighbors, the signal modifies to “send me to three neighbors” etc… Billions of messages like this buzzing all around the knot of intertwined axons. This produces, I believe, thoughts, emotions, and our ability to rise up out of bed and move with intention.

The internet is arranged a lot like this. You’ve got a single computer analogous to a neuron. It’s connected to a number of other computers through social networking web sites, e mailing friends, family, business, etc., sending signals to one or a number of other computers. It has a very “bottom-up” organizational structure where it is lead by everyone and no one. This, I believe, is why it can’t really be regulated or properly controlled. I mean, laws can be put in place to restrict access to things like child porn (though some will undoubtedly leak through), but mostly the internet is a free and open exchange of information with no restrictions. (It’s interesting to note that the Word program I’m using to compose this is insisting I capitalize the word “internet”. Fascinating!)

I think we are currently at an “in-between” stage of the evolution of the internet. With the development of smart phones and GPS technology I can’t help but think there will be an as yet unthought-of “thing” that takes the internet to a whole new level. In the same way I cannot imagine how we ever got along without the internet, when this “thing” happens, we will be thinking the same about it.

Anyway, merry xmas eve.

This past ten or eleven days have been a rough one folks. The ever unpredictable side effects of the RO5185426 have been rearing their heads once again. It feels similar to all that joint pain I was dealing with earlier last summer, but this time it’s being accompanied by a very good measure of muscle aching and soreness. It’s gotten a little better over the last couple days, but last night I woke up with a pain level of a 7 or 8, and I had to drag myself out of bed to pee. Still though, it’s getting better and is bound to get even better still.

Also, I had another one of my 3 month checkups with the dermatologist last Tuesday. Had another mole removed from my back during that visit. I’ve had about 6 or 7 removed since the first one that (essentially and unfortunately) started this blog. I got a call from the Dr. this afternoon regarding the results of that mole. It’s melanoma, and it’s completely not associated with the first one; it is independent and original. I’ll end up having a one-centimeter radius patch of skin removed where the mole was residing. This will be done in the dermatologists office under local anesthesia. Honestly, it’s going to be a walk in the fucking park (do any kids read this fucking blog?).

Just so this posting isn’t all about pain and suffering, I’ll add a little vacation story from our visit to Versailles. This place is an amazing palace you can tour through, very beautiful and opulent. At the end of the tour there was a snack counter (there is a snack counter at most, if not all, of the big museums in Paris) and we had some sandwiches. Then I was getting a rumbly tummy and knew I’d need to find a restroom soon, lest I have another “incident”. Turns out the lavatories were unisex, which I thought was interesting. I had to sit in a stall and have a total colo-rectal O-ring blow-out right next to my girlfriend. That was Rad. I was stuck there for a minute or two after she had flushed and washed up, just to let myself continue to drain. I stopped short because I could tell some people were waiting for the stall to become free. I flushed, buttoned up my pants, buckled my belt and opened the stall door. There were about ten women in line waiting for that stall. Every one of them was looking at me with cold disdain (probably because of the fecal heavy miasma I gave vent to). I felt like the guy who accidently uses the ladies room because he wasn’t paying attention.

Those restrooms were unisex, right Sarah?

Last Sunday was my family’s annual pre-Christmas party/white elephant gift exchange. We didn’t always do the gift exchange at this party, it was a tradition that started when I was about 15 or so. The party itself has been going on since before I was born (or at least since I’ve had the ability to recollect). The gift exchange portion of the party started out innocent enough, we had a limit of $15-$20 or something, mostly cute ornaments, coffee cards, holiday candles, etc.. It didn’t take long for us to morph this into something slightly different. Now it has become is a question of who can bring the gift that will make the most people laugh. There are still some worth-while gifts in the mix, as a matter of fact, I’d say this year’s gift exchange had a higher percentage of nicer presents as compared to previous years. For instance, my uncle Pete brought a very nice framed and matted picture (three pictures actually) of him and my dad dressed up as pirates (or something like that). It was pretty cool!

Last year I thought it would be really funny (and even a little “edgy”) to bring the used needles that were a part of my chemo treatments from two summers ago. I had to do three shots per week, with a new needle every time. I decided to save up the used needles in a clear container so I could physically see the progression of the treatments (because there was to be a total of 48 weeks of those injections, I made it through twelve weeks of them). In the same present I also included the empty injector pens I used for those treatments. It went over fairly well, everyone had a good uncomfortable laugh :)

This year Justin (my brother) took things to a whole new level. The gift he brought made my used needles and injector pens look like a Christmas mug. Heidi (his lovely bride) waxed his whole upper body, then they melted the wax down with the hair inside. They then cooled it in some sort of large tuna can shape. It looks like a large hockey puck. From across the room it looks as though it may be something fancy and decorative, perhaps even having a pleasant aroma. It has a very natural wax color, kind of a greenish-brown like something you might find at the Pottery Barn or Whole Foods. Upon closer examination, however, you can clearly see this thing is a bio-hazard (heave). It is… beyond words (heave). There is hair clearly visible embedded in the wax, but the top actually has hairs sticking through (heave). It makes my skin crawl to even think about it (heave). It makes me feel like there is a hair in the back of my throat (it feels like there is one there right now, heave). Nicely done, brother of mine :)

In other news, a slight controversy has begun over the authenticity of the duplex pictures and the associated claims. I’ll get it ironed out soon enough and post pics of the correct location. The place pictured, I’m told, is right next door to the actual place. We were close. So very, very close.

This is the duplex I was born inside. I was born on in the top unit, Christopher Clark was born in the bottom unit.

Last weekend I went and visited the house I was born in (it was actually a duplex, and yes, I was born IN the thing). A very close friend of mine (Christopher Michael Clark) and I were both born there, which is how our moms became friends. I hadn’t seen the place in a really REALLY long time, but Chris knew right where it was. I gotta admit, it was a little surreal being there, I started wondering which shrub my placenta was buried under (that’s right, I just ended that sentence with a preposition). I’m going to upload some pictures onto the blog. I’m not sure if they’ll be directly connected to this posting or not, but if you’d like to see what the duplex looks like, find those pictures.

Another thing I was thinking about recently: Why is it so funny to see people fall down? I got to see a woman fall down the other day on some wet brick in front of Seattle Central Community College. It was great! I always feel like the universe lines up perfectly when I get to see someone slip and fall. I saw a woman stumble over her high-heels once, she fell all the way down and smashed her face against the black-top. True story. It happened in a parking lot, I was driving by in my car as the only witness. She looked like she smashed her teeth out. I stopped and rolled my window down to ask her if she was ok, she said she was, so I moved on. It’s hard to know what to do in a situation like that. I’d like to ignore it for the sake of the person’s pride, but I don’t want to seem calloused. Another time I got to see a very attractive, very well put-together girl stumble on the top step of a set of concrete steps. This was at Highline Community College (is a pattern emerging here around community colleges?), I was waiting for a class to start in an out-door breeze way, the young lady was coming up a staircase right on front of me. Again, I was the only witness. Her books and papers went everywhere. Totally classic :)

There’s an oft repeated experiment where (essentially) people are being fed the culinary equivalent to TV dinners, but the setting is a fancy restaurant and the presentation of the food is nothing short of ornamental with small artistic accents and stuff. In one such experiment, the dessert was nothing but store-brand whipped cream given a fancy french name. As you might expect, most people (certainly not all) enjoy the food just as though the ingredients were on par with what the setting and atmosphere would dictate.

There was a similar experiment on the show “Bullshit” where people were given a blind taste test between organic and non-organic bananas, and asked to choose which one was organic. People would be able to choose correctly at the same rate random chance would prescribe (for the record, I do understand the positive benefits of eating organic produce, but those benefits seem more ethical then flavorful).

The point here isn’t an illustration of the unsophistication of our collective pallets, but rather our susceptibility to deception (especially self-deception, which creeps into our belief structures without our conscious knowledge). Even if it’s purely a manifestation of the subconscious, we are all terrified of being wrong about things, especially things we care deeply for. How many things in your life are you uncompromisingly attached to?

Once, not that long ago, people were firmly connected to the idea that the Earth was the center of the solar system. So connected to this belief, they though it a grave insult to suggest this not to be so. This is one among a whole host of examples through history where well established beliefs were turned upside-down by objective inquiry. Can objective inquiry get to the bottom of everything? I doubt it, but we can all play a part in the tearing down of veils when we put objective inquiry into practice. Ideally, I’d say that each and every belief you have should be splayed bare on the chopping block of objective inquiry.

But that’s just me. Some people are comforted by those veils. Some people make the conscious choice to not learn or uncover things because the veils are so comfortable. I liken this (please pardon the example) to a mother grieving over the death of her son. She tells herself, and forces herself to believe, that he is just away at camp because it’s easier then dealing with the truth. Would anyone just let this mother persist in this belief? Wouldn’t it be more productive for her to acknowledge the truth?

This example is a bit extreme, but I believe everybody has veils around them purely for the sake of comfort, I’m just challenging folks to dare to know. Risk letting yourself be objective. Take responsibility for the things you believe in. Discard long-held beliefs that hold you back from truly living (like the grieving mother). Acknowledge the fact that your senses are fallible (like in the restaurant illustration) and your mind susceptible to error. But mostly, seek truth. Seek truth. Seek truth.

When we flew in to Amsterdam, we ended up circling the airport for about 45 minutes before we could land. Then, when we were finally cleared, the landing was perhaps the most turbulent I’ve ever experienced. I don’t fear turbulence, and there’s no part of flying in an airplane that scares me. I’m not trying to act like some tough guy, but I could witness a plane explode on takeoff right before boarding my plane, and be just fine with it (though, statistically speaking, that would be the safest time to fly). I do, however, get very motion sick, which led me to one of my first “firsts” of the trip, using the sick-bag. As we were on the approach, I reached into the stowage pouch on the back of the seat in front of me and retrieved the bag. Sarah said “are you alright??” and I lost the dry croissant I had eaten for lunch. Four or five more good heaves and I felt a little better. I noticed that I set off a couple sympathetic vomiters, which pleased me. I handed the warm-bottomed bag to one of the stewardesses (uh, I mean flight attendants), and she reluctantly took it from me. Minutes later as the 757 was making its weary way to the terminal, I pulled out the sick-bag from the pouch on the back of the seat in front of Sarah and used it. This time (as you might imagine) it was mostly a lot of loud burping and dry heaving. I did get a little sauce up though. Gave that bag away, and grabbed the third unused sick-bag to go. I ended up not using it, but there were a couple close calls. At least it makes for a funny one-time story?

Anyway’s, had an appointment yesterday with Dr. T to discuss the results of the CT scan I had done Monday. Turns out the RO5185426 continues to do it’s job. The cancer is holding steady, no more shrinkage, but no new growth either. this is good news as it keeps me involved the study. Like I’ve mentioned in the past, I don’t want to change medications unless I have to. The thought of adjusting to a new medication is daunting, I’d like to stay with the “RO”.

In other news, I got a new windshield for the motorcycle. Yippee!!!