I enjoy that the darker the water, the more clear the reflection. There is a sense of irony there, that through a form of darkness, we can come to see our own reflections more clearly. I remember this usually around 6 A.M... and again at noon, when the morning coffee has run its course... then again at about 3, and once more around 8 PM. It's good to be regular... and I drink a good bit... of water.
In the course of my reflections today... I landed on DmagnusV... and my interactions with him over the years. We became acquainted, first, through this digital wonderland... sometime back in 2006. It was a warm, benign day in Los Angeles... and I was sitting at a cubicle, wondering what I should do to wile-away the day... work was slow... my mind was fast... and that led me to Ebaumsworld.com... where I often visited to see snippets of videos of people hurting themselves physically, emotionally, and mentally... While meandering that wilderness of depravity... I noticed this box at the bottom of the screen:
"Hobowars! Come. Fight. Beg. Destroy other Hobo's" Or something to that affect. I'm not sure what led me to do it, but a short time later I had click-click-clicked my way into this new world. It wasn't overwhelmingly complex... but it was addictive.
Flash forward three months. I've continued to assume the role of a Begging, half-eaten-dumpster-food eating hobo during my waking working hours... It seemed fitting that while I was working in corporate America, furthering the gears of Capitalist Progress... I was pretending to be a homeless hobo. It somehow lightened the sting of wearing a tie. I had bumped in to a group of like-minded hobos, in this digital wasteland... and "joined a gang". The leader of this gang was none other than Mr. DMagnusV. We became fast friends... he with his steady hand and witty subtext... capable of injecting humor into a situation without the majority realizing that they were indeed the butt of the joke... me with my blatant disregard for anything reverant or conformist.
Years passed. We grew up together, as hobo's tend to do. We became paragons of the homeless community... but my non-cyber existence was growing more tenuous. Moving, changing, evolving... one day I disappeared from the land of the layabouts... having committed to running amok in a more destitute fashion in the real-world. I had gone on my own walkabout... but not without having set aside a certain degree of mental and emotional real-estate for my digital brother, the purveyor of this fine blog.
Years more passed, until one day I got the itch to check in, find out of this gentleman had reproduced again... check in on his life... mostly outside of the land of the hobos. I had met his wife in the same venue, and was genuinely curious to find out if things were going well, and how their lives had evolved.
It has been approximately one month since that time. Mr. DMagnusV is still rocking out... leading groups of people in whatever he does, casually, and without arrogance or desire for personal power. It's a pleasure to see the many projects he's layered into his life... and I look forward to being a contributor here to some of the many things in which we share a mutual interest.
While I can't say "Call Me Ishmael"... I can say, "Call me Chad. Or Clubby. Or Bastard-sonofabitch" They're all correct. In the meantime, I'll call my friend simply that: My friend, and we'll together sew together a pattern of relentless terror in the form of bad humor, good fun, and senseless wonder. It's good to have friends.
Welcome back my friend. :-D
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