My office just gave a brand new Toshiba Satellite Pro 440CDX. 133 Mhz Pentium MMX, 32 Megs of RAM, Multimedia, and more. It beats the heck out of my current desktop configuration.

One of the senior engineers tried to take it when I was gone.












Bored.Com
















































This guy Patrick Coombs has had some interesting experiences; and thus, a very interesting Webpage.

Experiences wanted.

What does it take to build a good Webpage?

I'm not talking about technical specifications here, like development capability, ISP service, et al. What I mean is, what does it take to make a Webpage interesting?

I've been giving it a lot of thought this evening. I'd had this day picked out for a couple of weeks ahead of time as a good opportunity to update this page; it's been over four months since I put any new content on here. And today was the perfect opportunity; the weather was supposed to be inclement, I finished the project I've been working on a little early, and I had the condo all to myself. The ideal situation for a little quality time with my computer, getting the creative juices flowing for the benefit of all you good people surfing the Web...if indeed you happen to surf my way.

So what happened? You guessed it. After I finally got all my stuff done today and sat down in front of my new laptop to compose my thoughts, .....I drew a blank. I discovered I had no thoughts to compose. I started to type a few halting lines, but it became quickly apparent that the essay I was developing was merely a rehash of the last couple I've written, about how this Webpage was purely a personal outlet, I can never think of anything worthwhile to post up here, this stuff probably wastes bandwidth, blah blah blah. The same old tired song. And I came to the conclusion that if I was going to update my page by merely rephrasing what I'd already said, there was no point in updating my page at all.

Problem was, I really did want to put something to paper (so to speak). I'm not an especially creative person; I don't know art, I don't read or write poetry, and when reading literature I can barely get past the plot, let alone analyze the symbolism and characters. The task of thinking up something new and original is difficult for anyone; for me, the task of thinking up something new and original--or merely interesting to read--can be absolutely Herculean. And yet here I was, sitting in front of my laptop trying to play author...and failing miserably.

At first, I tried to get into an author's mentality in precisely the wrong manner: I turned on the TV (it was the same way I dealt with study problems when I was in school. Bad habits die hard). After absolutely WASTING a couple of hours watching nothing at all, I turned off the set in disgust and determined to attack this Webpage thing head-on. I wandered down to my car, on the pretext of getting an audiotape, but really just to let my mind wander--I do my best thinking when I'm walking around. The tape I went to get was the soundtrack to the movie Good Will Hunting; as I rode the elevator down to the parking garage, I began to recall some of the movie's scenes.

Soon one scene in particular came to mind; it was the one where Robin Williams and Matt Damon are sitting in Boston Common, a day or so after their first counseling session in which Will (Damon) really shook up Sean (Williams). And Sean, after a night of drinking alone and some genuflection, finally realizes that he doesn't have to care what Will thinks (I hope I'm getting this right). He realizes that Will is "just a kid." I don't remember the exact dialogue, but the gist of it was that Will might be a bona fide genius and have read and retained knowledge of everything under the sun, but he doesn't know anything. Knowledge requires experience, and Will is too young and too driven by his fears to have experienced anything. He doesn't have knowledge; all he has is information.

It was at that point that I realized why I couldn't think of anything to put on this particular part of my Webpage. Somewhere I remember reading some established writer's advice to aspiring authors, and it was summed up in this: write what you know. Very simple, very direct. Write what you know.

Sean Macguire's words to Will Hunting echoed in my ears: "You're just a kid. You don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about." And in my case, it's true.

Now, that might be an oversimplification, and at any rate, I'm extremely leery of adopting anything remotely philosophical from popular movies. But the idea that experience is necessary for knowledge has a great deal of merit, and the simple fact is, I haven't experienced it a whole lot. I've only been out on my own since the beginning of this year; before that it was seven years of University education (and the more I reflect upon it, the more real experience I think I could have gotten out of that education). So on the one hand, I simply haven't had a lot of opportunity to experience things. But if lack of time were the only factor, then I wouldn't have had as much trouble thinking up material for this Webpage; after all, I am twenty-five. Young, I know, but a young adult. No, it's not just a lack of time; the other controlling factor in garnering experience (and now I'm using the term "experience" as a synonym for "living life") is the willingness to risk. To take chances, to make mistakes, to fall down and get back up. To LEARN. Learning takes risk.

I have always had a dreadful fear of risk.

Couple that with a natural laziness, and you have the perfect recipe for an extremely dull life--and dull lives do not lend themselves to creative ability. All my life I have had to fight strenuously against an innate spirit of timidity and a profound laziness. And that is why I have trouble thinking of things about which to write for this page; far too often I allow timidity and laziness to overcome my willingness to risk, and thus I have fewer experiences upon which to draw than I otherwise might.

This isn't some kind of manifesto, or some kind of statement of principles. It isn't even a declaration of a change of conduct. But as a sit here in the wee hours of morning typing this page and sipping on a Corona, it is a public realization on my part. If I want to maintain a Webpage, I'm going to have to do more than just pay Mindspring every month and think up a polemic or two every few weeks. I'm going to have to live life; I'm going to have to risk. And within the bounds of right and wrong, I'm going to have to adopt a new philosophy of action, summed up in two words:

"Experiences wanted."