Sept 22, 2003 GJ

Although Monk didn't think that he would be someone to have multiple journals across the internet, thinking one quite sufficient, a gal has moved him to open a second blog at GreatestJournal, only so that he can continue to follow her life, having become addicted to her story, as she has made that journal 'friends only.' He already had been following her across the internet and now he is there.

For those who don't know Monk, not like furtive knows Monk, he can readily become a basket case when confronted by the unknown, particularly when it comes to this new world of cyberspace and his computer, dreadfully fearfull of ruining his lifeline to the internet, and to Blurty in particular.

You are not going to believe this! It's a new low.

One still cannot believe the timing! This doesn't excuse Monk, but it can seem that the gods are indeed after him. Just as Monk submits his info to create his new journal, he hears this sharp, piercing beeping sound. He is sure that it is tied to the creation of the journal, and that the sound is issuing from his computer. He hopes that it is going to go away when he comfirms his e-mail account and fills out the personal information, but it doesn't go away.

Monk is now in a full panic! A cold paranoiac fear. He has one working theory. GreatestJournal has a new feature: private messages. Monk doesn't understand how it works yet, and he was thinking that they might be telling him that he has a message, which he does, an introductory greeting (from Bonita no less). He cannot stop the beeping. He freaks out to the gal for whom he thinks he sacrificed his home computer, as well as to the support staff over there, including a personal cry for help to Bonita (is that her picture?-- bonita indeed!).Monk then decides to shut down the computer and re-start to see if that old stand-by will do the trick here, too.

But it keeps beeping!

He finally considers seriously the possibility that the sound might be coming elsewhere. He goes to the kitchen, thinking that it does sound like the smoke alarm when it beeps, though this wasn't a fast beeping, only beeping every forty seconds. It's clear that that's not it. Monk is afraid about having to explain to Simple Tree and Jules about his online journal, so that she might solve the problem.

However, as Monk comes back to the computer, he remembers and sees the smoke alarm right outside the office, where the computer is. He stands under it. And, damn it, that is it! One presumes that it is a low-battery warning.

On one hand, he is relieved that it isn't a serious problem. On the other hand, he is reminded of what a fucking basket case he can be. He goes back to their support site and Bonita to tell them that he is just an idiot, and that there is no problem. Our primate-protagonist. Quite the man!

In closing, it may be worth making clear that Blurty is still his home. He is there to follow his blogger friend, though he also fancies the idea of playing with styles over there, maybe getting comfortable enough to improve what he has here. Monk's user name is, ta-da, 'monk', but he doesn't count on posting seriously there except as incidental play. What a day! Well, Monk now feels stronger for it, not having been destroyed.

sept 23, 2003 A Racial Inferiority Complex?

While Monk was learning how to play with journal styles at GreatestJournal, he hears a banging at the side of the house, and someone shouting greetings. Monk steps around the furiously barking eskie to go out and see who is the latest person to pretend not to see our sign informing people that we don't want to be solicited.

Monk comes upon a sharp looking, well-dressed fellow, who we will call Tad (it just comes to mind). Tad is a blond Anglo in his very late teens or early twenties, slender, about 5'10", with shortly cut hair, a good-looking young man. He is dressed business-like in neck-tie, dress shirt and slacks, perhaps a little uncomfortable for the sunny, warm afternoon.

One expounds on this because it brings out one of the tormented aspects of Monk's psyche. He feels so out-classed by such a person. The coup de grace are those bright blue eyes. He has never been able to overcome the power of golden hair and blue eyes, as even his dreamgirl is so made in the fantasies of his mind. When Monk sees this graced with upper-middle or upper classdom, emphasized with fashionable and costly clothes and the delicate graces of educated and refined manners and speech, he begins to wonder how did these people ever cease to think that we darker people are inferior after all.

This is one reason, though not necessarily one of the more important reasons, why Monk lives as he does, so severly withdrawn from the social traffic of the world, finding his satisfaction in books as well as the distancing medium of the internet. He harbors a deep sense of a fundamental inferiority, that he cannot deal with other people on equal terms. Since he also cannot accept dealing with others on inferior terms, he simply doesn't deal at all, or at least as little as possible.

This lesson was capped today when Tad gave Monk that confident little smirky smile as they first began to talk. He knows. Monk feels that Tad has this same understanding of the world, perhaps even feeling smug with the understanding that he also knows that Monk knows this, too.

Funny, though, he is pitching for a Mexican restaurant. Tad readily accepts that we don't go out to eat, and he leaves.