Addo Incendia

Sunday was a long tiring day, after having a lot of fun with friends on Saturday, it turned to drama all day Sunday that was eventually resolved thank goodness! I haven’t seen a close friend in a long time and it’s starting to get grating, we had the same internet schedule so it was good to have a little distraction while I was working, but I don’t think I’ll be seeing him for a while. \

-Jericho

Had a long tiring day with a couple old friends, a buddy I haven’t seen for months blew into town. Another friend blew in around the afternoon and we spent the day watching tv, talking, and mostly making fun of each other. More monday.

-Jericho.

I was talking with a friend and I realized how little I’ve actually said about my father, what he did, and what it took for me to get over his absence in my childhood. Mostly he wasn’t there, I can blame the meth he was smoking, I can blame him for being irresponsible, I can do a lot of things, and I did for a long time. I dropped it though, it was hard and it took a lot of working through on my own, and…eventually only a twenty minute phone call with the old man himself, but it was worth it. In and out of jail, not there when I was a kid it doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t matter. I’ll get into the meat and potatoes of it later, while I’m working further into java assignment do, I’m going at it slowly, and well it’s getting tougher but that’s good. I need the gradual increase.

-Jericho

A friend of mine, I’m going to share a bit of music that I use to get geared up for the day.

-Jericho

So I’ve been working on a java problem for a couple days now, staring at it meditating on the inner being of the problem before me, before attacking it like a mad dog, rabidly tearing at each of its bits one by one. Destroying everything that was of this thing, and turning it into something different and unique, a program.. Made by Jericho, low and behold though, this could not be done more tediously in any other compiler than Eclipse. Constantly crashing most likely my fault of course. -.- No matter! Push on, complete the code, program program.

Other things, cybersphere rocks my socks, all over the floor, up against the ceiling, all four walls and around the perimeter. My character on there is quite literally the greatest single human being I’ve every created on that game within the last two weeks. I know that’s saying a lot. However I have to be blunt. ^__^. Addicted to cocaine, working in the back of a Phiber-Optix he’s living the high life of slummin’ it. Got his own one bedroom apartment, a nice workshop to work on decks and write software. Now the drama begins, I can’t wait until the whirlwind begins to spin around my character, murder intrigue. It’s already started, tracking people? Why, what is going on. Paranoia taps at the back of Trevor’s head. Hearing voices, is it the cocaine? Is there really a cortex bomb in his head? Or is he just due for another fix.

-Jericho-

Having been born to a prominent Chinese family,

Shaocao was expected to do great things in this life.

As a young child his father called him beaker, a reference to

the day he found a glass beaker in the child Shaocao could

be found scavaging in his fathers private workshop.The circuits

of a vacuum or tri-v were his favorite playthings,

an entire childhood was spent searching through the piles of

electronic junk, scouring the mounds for that piece of

golden circuitry, constantly practicing a discerning eye

as he sought the perfect piece that would allow him to

finish his latest rudimentary robot or lightgun. His high

school years were a haze of constant parties and late

coke fed nights as he pushed himself. He wished not

only to have a social life, but a flawless academic

record as well. When offered to move onto college

abroad early he jumped at the chance, His parents

were offering him a full ride and his father and

mother could not have been more proud.Weeks

at MIT passed, and as he tried to hold onto the childish

partying he began to flounder. Exhaustion was his constant

companion in classes and out. The cocaine fueled cramming

would not help him as it did with the rudimentary honors

classes in his homeland. His choice was simple,

and the most difficult for him to accomplish. After a

long, harrowing stint in rehab he was able to kick

the monkey growing on his back. Trevor returned to

academia with a new found sense of obligation and

dedication Redoubling his efforts he was rewarded

with almost a preternatural understanding of electrical

engineering and computing sciences. The art of problem

solving through high level coding languages was indeed

his calling. Graduating with honors he promptly

returned home to be greeted by his family with open arms.

Thrust into his father’s company he found, to his amazement

he loved, and cherished his father’s field. Computer programming,

networking; technology at its finest. In the cutting edge world

of Asian research and development there was never a more exciting

field. To his dismay his entry level work for his father was in

advertising and multimedia a field he has had experience with

while working at MIT, graphic design and photo editing was never

his chosen field, though he did have a talent for editing videos,

art, photographs and perspectives he never understood it’s worth

in modern technology. Apart from advertising the slickest new chrome,

what more use could photography and graphic design have?

His mother and father were excited to have a son quickly on the

rise in the family’s company. A rising star in the technology

industry, but only recognized for his work in professional field

of graphic design. The excitement his father felt could never

fill certain holes in his son’s heart. Trevor as his mother

affectionately calls him ,is compelled to fill the voids in his

life, seeking ever greater thrills.He has been caught going out

on joy rides constantly in his father’s cars. Pushing them to ever

greater speeds, his friends speculating on whether it was true

talent or luck that keeps him from wrapping his father’s cars

around a pole. Gambling nightly, his winnings were a constant

pleasure, insurance that he would return, each night to throw

the dice, or turn his cards and see Lady Luck consume his savings.

Most of the meager salary his father paid him would go into

carving chunk after chunk out of the sizable debt he owed to

the Huwanbe Triad family who owned him. Constantly forced to

look for deals on any items he wished to buy, the discerning

eye he practiced as a child was priceless now. Scouring Hong

Kong for the best deals and even perhaps free meals. The Daoist

in him flourished A skill invaluable to a man who could spare

nothing for extravagance As the years passed, and his debt

grew larger, it was abhorrently apparent he was becoming an

indentured servant. He soon started seeking employ in shadier

dealings. His greatest strengths would once again save him from

misery. While he hated his old man, his father instilled an

ability to disseminate data, and design anything virtual from

the top down at an early age.

Soon he would find himself slicing terminal after terminal,

a virtual cowboy moving data from unsuspecting victims to his

debtors hands. As time progressed he found more enjoyment

from the repayment then his work with his father. Not only that

he found a constant thrill in the fact he was better at it than he

could have imagined. Calling upon all of his knowledge gained

while working tirelessly in the halls of MIT he pushed himself

to further depths. Digging himself out of this mountain of debt

was his only goal, the sleepless nights of his youth soon

came upon him. He was here again, staring at the city before

him bathed in the night’s light. A gram of coke in Trevor’s hand

he slowly weighed the pros and cons, and remembering the

Huwanbe’s many beatings he sat down to his latest work

nose caked in powder.

The nights of gambling were soon replaced with coke

filled hacks and data recovery jobs anything the triads

asked of him he had to do. The time blurred around him

and as he continued snorting gram after gram, pushing

himself to juggle his suffering professional work

and private work for the Huwanbe. All of his work in vain

as it came crashing down around him on his 24th birthday.

Awoken suddenly his knuckles blistered and throbbing with

agony. His father standing above him, a cane outstretched.

The most startling thing however was the Triad enforcers behind

him. After a bit of discussion it became clear that his debt had

been paid by his father. Disgraced Shaocao has been allowed a

portion of his inheritance to relocate. Hoping to follow a dream he

looks to New Carthage to find his calling. His skillset focused he

spends his nights off cybersphere before leaving Hong Kong. His

room bathed in neon from the giant holographic model displaying

another beer the corporate trust fund child it’s obvious demographic,

bringing only a few of his personal items; a deck, Ramcard, and

electrical tools, he’s come to New Carthage hoping

for a better life, after renting a shop where he may do his work.

His only belongings the clothes in his bags and his personal

electronics and a a modest amount of currency.

-Jericho

Man I don’t think it has anything to do with the day, I think the universe just has to release it bowels sometimes, and what we call Monday is it. I woke today completely freaked, utterly ready to jump out of my skin, shut down everything and give up on all of it. I’m terrified of the fact that people that I don’t know read this. Why? Who cares, it freaks me the fuck out to think my own friends know so much about me. I’ve never been a sharey person up until this point. I don’t…. decompress well, I spin my head over and over and over and then flush. So when I started this blog, I thought why not. Lets have a lark. Now I can’t go the day without writing in it at least a little. Still it’s scary, all my friends and I have grown so close, I would feel pain to be without them. Soul and Kevin especially have sat here and helped me grow and expand as a person. There are others I would credit more, I just don’t want to say it. They know who they are, that should be enough. No my problem is that these people are so connected to me that I feel vulnerable and exposed and I want it to stop. I want to run, and hide, and end everything, because then I could regulate the hurt. Instead of leaving it open to who knows what. I won’t, it’s just what is going on in my head today. The beating thumping fear of being exposed to those around me, having them know my inner most thoughts. I can’t handle it all the time. Today is one, I haven’t mentioned how I felt to anyone. I’ve avoided the subject, and I will until the day I die. Or someone forces me to talk about it. I don’t want to resolve this really, I like the wary gait I approach sharing parts of myself with. I just can’t help but wonder how it will affect my friendships to come. Will people think this caution is me not wanting to bond? Perhaps, however it is not that. It is just one of my overwhelming fears, something I don’t know how to get rid of. Something I must learn to overcome.

-Jericho.

WE HAVE BEEN ANNOUNCED. On the other blog, oh yay. The post over there is pretty in depth if only short. Only minor changes are in order on this site.

So after getting up early, reviewing lecture five then going through lecture six on Java. I started coding a few programs, hello world, add two integers I’ll be moving into assignment two for the methodolgy class next week and so on. I’ll cover five assignments in java, simple programs really. Hopefully I won’t have that many problems while I’m working through each problem. I watched a movie last night called “Broken Flowers”

Bill Murray in one of his best roles to date plays Don, an aging Don Juan who’s most recent girlfriend leaves him. He receives a letter shortly after that states he has a son which is looking for him. After encouragement from his neighbor Don goes on a road trip to find the mother of his child. An interesting look at the aging hipster’s life as he moves from unique woman of his past to the next. Each experience vastly different than the next. Each time, you see the impact the confrontations with the past have on Don, Bill Murray once again masterfully portrays emotion through facial features and silence.  I’d give the movie a three out of five, just because it’s improperly marked as comedy-drama. Though Bill was able to make me laugh, the central focus of the movie was his growth as a human being and the eventual death of the Don Juan.

-Jericho.

All bets off, all tickets collected. Jury is in, and they say YOU ARE SICK. Sentance is at least twenty four hours of bed-rest.

-Jericho