Under the Radar

somewhere in my mind, i knew the above image existed before last night - however - it’s still a surprise to me.

the image is from the Zelda II: The Adventure of Link and i never owned the game until now - having bought one of those dandy nostalgia machines -> NES Classic

it’s odd. until last night the only time i played this game was with my elementary school friend erik. he had all the video games and i was pretty jealous of that.

but back to the point…

as i dive further into my memory box i wonder about the common “our memories make our identity” thing. i’m not sure i believe it in that, my memories of who i was and what i was doing at 20 are not me now. it’s as if i’m looking at a stranger and wondering what the hell he was doing and why.

i go over my images that i’ve been compulsively making since youth and can’t fathom the hand that made them. i remember every detail of doing so but that memory is something similar to having read the story from a book. i see the events, i can imagine what’s going on in my mind and yet…is that me? did that happen?

i am error.

Life by Spreadsheet

It all boils down to the logs. Who keeps the logs, who enters the logs, who saves the logs and where those logs end up.

Data points, data analysis, sentiment analysis, correlation, blah blah blah.