Thursday 4 May 2000

Pic of the day: Spring road.

Who said it's a long and lonely road we travel on?
Don't know where we're going, or where we're coming from?
My life's been a journey, you've helped me see it through -
nothing seems a problem, just being next to you.
Another day is breaking, where we can laugh and cry -
something there between us, which words can not define.
(Sorry, I haven't a clue who wrote this, I think he was a radio guy or something. It's been years, perhaps decades, I barely remember the text anymore. I think it was a farewell song of sorts, to his friends. Hey, don't get this wrong: I intend to hang on here as long as the nanomachinery keeps pumping.)

The strangest thing happened when I arrived at the bus stop in the morning. It's a bit over 10 minutes from where I live, and I don't know a soul there. (Not that I know many where I live, either.) As I arrived, two girls were discussing my best friend, SuperWoman. Well, actually not in great detail - they were discussing her choice of career. The older girl listed the places SuperWoman had studied and practiced, and was obviously reasonably well informed. She looked like she was 16-17, but must actually be around 20 based on what she said. The younger girl was about to enter high school (or rather its closest equivalent in Norwegian, advanced school). It was presumably her career plans that had started the discussion of my friend.

It's sort of strange for me to know that I have a friend in common with someone, and not have an idea who they are. Of course I did not ask or in any way interfere.

Soon after I arrived at work, I heard about the new script-based virus that is spreading, mainly on Win98 and Win2000 systems. I quickly disregarded it as irrelevant to our workplace, but I was wrong. No, the virus is not able to spread there. But the sheer amount of incoming email (generated by the virus) made the HQ mailserver kneel. The funny thing is that the mails bear the title "iloveyou". Or not so funny, if you imagine the disappointement of the thousands who hoped it would be real ...

According to the Norwegian anti-virus specialists Norman, the virus has spread explosively. It infects JPG, JPEG, MP2 and MP3 files (and then some, I hear). There may be some divine justice in this, since a lot of both JPG and MP3 files are pirated (pictures and music, respectively). But the virus does not bother about legalities. If I let it loose on my portable, it would destroy my picture diary archives as well as The Sims, which uses the MP3 format for in-game music.

Incidentally, I did not expect to get any of those mails, and did not. My contacts seem to split cleanly into two groups: The computer freaks, who use assorted non-Microsoft mail programs (as do I), and the barely computer literate, who use Hotmail or similar services. (No offense to Hotmail. OK, just a little offense to Hotmail.)

(By the way, thanks for the real e-mails! I hope I've replied to you all. You folks are great!)

I was taking a walk in the lunch break. I don't think it is just me, I think the women are actually dressing more exciting in the warmer weather. It's not like they are wearing mini skirts or anything, either. But both the blouses and the jeans seem to be more tight fitting in the warmer weather, when I would logically expect the opposite. Oh well. That's their choice. I have mine.

And as I walked through the main street, and I saw a man who reminded me of an old friend, I suddenly started to think about sunshine people and moonlight people.

The sunshine people are those who have the light within themselves. It does not really matter to them where they are and who they are with. They live and choose from within themselves. The moonlight people, on the other hand, merely reflect the light. And therefore they also change color depending on where they are. If circumstance removes them from the company they used to keep, they change.

Now that I think this seriously over, I do not think that there are many who are fully sunshine or moonlight people. I think we are a mixture of both. Perhaps some are like my wristwatch, which soaks up light during the day. The first part of the night it glows quite brightly, but as the morning approaches, it has turned quite a bit more dull. I can still see the outline of it in the dark, but it is hard to make out details anymore. I wonder if that is my fate ... fading away?

Time will show, if only there is time. What a precious commodity is time, and yet so easily trampled underfoot. Pearls for swine indeed.