023-everyone-makes-mystiques

Dear Diatribe; Morning has broken.

Someone needs to look into that.

I am dragging from sitting up with the old man; he has a spring in his step this early.

Scott is due in London this

afternoon. He is supposed to be on a red eye.

As much as I look

forward to speaking to him; I cannot get up early, drive contrary to my special perception, do an airport pickup, and return in the frame of mind to be this character which is to become my identikit.

Expecting your newly widowed friend to

navigate foreign public transportation could be considered rude and uncaring.

I am a bastard.

I drink tea again. it.

So I am OK on that one.

I do want to like it and I don’t dislike

I just can’t get very excited about it.

if I liked Jello.

I was once asked

My response humored the questioner.

It’s

kind of like nothing Tea has a similar lack of substance for me.

I know there is

caffeine in many teas; it just doesn’t hit you like it does with Joe.

When I was a smoker, I was once given an herbal cigarette

to try.

“How does it taste?”

I didn’t know; I just had a quick

reaction that it wasn’t a real smoke.

Een and pals are filing in.

I need to spend a great deal of

time preparing for Scott, but I have a small training session in Gnucleus software this morning.

I have just finished setting up

a place on our new server to save files.

That is all they are

doing, there is no login, and there is no system. be called dishonest.

I don’t think so anyway.

build the database for it, and I do.

It wouldn’t

I said I have to

I also have to make the

software work with one. I have a desktop application that I didn’t work on at all. It is open source, so there is no cost. I also know that the file will be open to perusal and deconstruction.

The

deconstructions will give us a database design, this design reconstructs a file when to be pulled up from the workstation. I absolutely cannot do this myself.

A good amount of it, but

without Scott, I would have to confess ignorance to some student I don’t know. Een is very friendly this morning. a regular American type of coffee. Tatties not far from here. Alrighty!

He brought me a coffee,

There is a place called

This is good to know.

Big Ole Tatties!

“The place is quite small actually”

No laugh or grimace. I like him.

Separated by our common language

I am at least happy he doesn’t dislike me.

am a little touchy lately.

I

Whenever I meet people I fear that

someone will scream out “FRAUD!” or “BLOODY FRAUD!” as Britishers are given to. When someone is standoffish, I feel they are just holding back that sort of tirade.

Our recent meeting was at 5:30am.

This post-doctorate Biochemist was schlepping at the behest of Dr. Blythe.

The schlepping at hand was in preparation for me.

Who the fuck is this douche-bag? injected by yours truly. what I think.

This commentary was

Not that I said this.

I just write

I don’t talk to myself, I write to myself.

I for

one believe there would be some difference in the clinical diagnosis on that one.

I have every right to think that until

some empirical evidence is brought forward. happen by involuntary commitment.

This would only

I would not stand for it.

one will stand for an involuntary commitment; clearly.

No

It would

cease to be involuntary. So Een did want to meet me. flattered. enough.

I am surprised and once again

He’s a fun guy, sort of an egghead, but amiable

I began to give a short tutorial to him on using the

molecular visualization software.

He had tried it out already,

but he a few questions, questions I knew the answers to. What we have to do here now Een is build a backend while your guys ready everything that will be fed into it. we meet in the middle.

Ideally,

I, and a colleague who is arriving

today, will have a workable system at a time when you are ready to start feeding in data with some chronological sense to it. “I have no easy task in that.

The drawings and

documentation are very well done, but not electronic.

Just

electrifying ten years of research is a whale of a task in the time we will have” How much time is that? “I thought you would know.” I had thought you were talking about an imposed deadline. I want to work as if we have deadlines, but without them.

The

faster that we produce the body of work we propose, the better it is.

I have been told of much buzz on the Barcelona

conference.

Buzz tends to fade.

The Buzz/Non-Buzz paradigm

makes it seem like there would be deadlines. “What deadline do we tell the troops then?” We won’t lie.

You can have them yourself and you can put

it to them, but don’t assign me to my demands.

If you tell me

you want to finish some task by Friday, I would agree and support you.

If one of your kids out there asks me of the

efficacy of their deadline, I will tell them that “Een is very committed to that schedule, you should heed his direction.” “Fair enough then” The interest here is to build on what we have. have is not a lot in the tangible realm.

What we

Two esteemed academics

to give their support; we have a bit of buzz and some currency from what I understand.

I guess I control the budget; I just

need to find out how much it is, and where we get it.

I mimed

writing those questions down. He and I continued with a conversation that made it clear he had a previous relationship with you, Tribe. You Fucking slut, Tribe.

Sharing your thoughts with just

anyone. Finally one of the superiors I have met in this adventure presents as an equal. We seem like peers. another PhD in my posse.

It has that feeling.

This is just

Is this a regular experience?

I have become, by appearance, the peer of men whose educational careers span years longer than my age.

If I were to

take my post secondary education and add it to my parents, I would be short of either of them.

If I keep adding up my family

academics going back through grandparents and adding “greats” in perpetuity without catching up. educational scraps.

My parents had scant

The pedigree before them had none.

I am going to be a premium pseudo-intellectual, and damn proud of it.

At least in my personal writing I will do my best to

emit pride. attacks you.

The Tribe can sense weakness.

Then your journal

Found dead by thousands of unexplained paper cuts.

(paperless paper cuts?) I shall be duty bound to hold my head high while mispronouncing allegorical and didactic-ism as Konigsberg would bemoan. Our class went well.

It was taught by the both of us.

I

realize that I can use the software a tad better at this point. He can describe what is being done. If they ask me a question, and the word it identically to what is in the menus and the documentation for the software, I can answer them.

I am glad to jump in at these times.

There is

a play between Een and I that engenders in me, the respect he

already enjoys. I can seem aloof just typing on my gadget.

I am not

writing diatribe when I am looking busy, I am being busy. I am mostly preparing for Scott’s arrival.

The more he can

do for me, the better chance I have for success here. Emotionally I want to be there for him. can.

I will have no temper with him.

I don’t know how much I I know it is possible to.

I am waiting on news on Scott’s arrival. Een and some of the guys.

Now I lunch with

We are in the house, Shirley has

prepared a nosh. Out comes that chick named Viv, she saddled up next to me as I sat down. screen.

She sits too close; I think she wants to read my

It is clear she’s not well-liked by the others.

She

seems friendly enough to me. One of the boys chided her immediately. to discuss our project a bit. time.”

“Vivian, we need

Please don’t monopolize Peter’s

The others chuckled in a way that was somehow evil.

I

don’t know her, I have no evidence to determine whether she deserves service as their laughingstock. Please! save Een.

She is as much a studied chemist as any of you;

This is just a lunch.

It is a lunch with people who

practice a revolutionary openness.

You will learn that

excluding people goes against our entire thesis statement. “Sorry, Peter” he retreated. Viv, I had wondered why you weren’t participating.

Blythe

said you were in mid-dissertation. “It consumes me.

Even eating seems like a distraction.”

The same lad interjected, “Sorry Viv” I think that maybe I should have eyed Een’s disposition before expressing a control that was possibly beyond my jurisdiction.

Being a dick might be the way.

On your first

day, go out to the exercise yard and take out the biggest mother fucker you see. The brut to whom I refer, is hardly a brawny lad. Lad is a burger at Big Boy Restaurants. scientist.

A Brawny

This chap is a

We are also not serving in a penitentiary.

But being an ass at the right time can do you well. Occasionally I might get it right. honor.

I was defending a woman’s

Either that or she had none at all.

Maybe, that which

she had was not worthy of defense. Maybe I am writing and avoiding conversation.

Perhaps this

is some sort of psychological affectation; a defense mechanism. Being that I am bat-shit, I would never be able to tell. There is information I seek however. I will just step over to the counter and Shirley.

For my

Tribe, I take you away from the leering eye of Ms. Viv. Shirley, I was expecting to hear from a Scott Swanson. am sure you heard, he is to arrive today.

I

I would think he has

landed in London by now. “No such luck for him, he will be landing at 11:45 tonight. The doctor is up resting now.

He and max plan to fetch him from

Heathrow.” Een and I have a project to work on, I was planning to work in the barn with him until at least nine. “They had said you would be worn thin if you had to play airport taxi.

Malcolm wanted to meet your friend, he was quite

insistent about driving.

This is my plight.”

So he does still drive? “Not in three years.” Was there an accident?

“Well; no actually.

He’s never hurt anybody; his car

remains fine shape” What ended his motoring then? “Three years ago I was downtown in a shop.

A Tremendous

crash sent the racks flying into the counter and the back wall.” Was anyone hurt? “Just the pride of that old man behind the wheel” “My heart broke for him. done.

He cried when he saw what he’d

I cried, the shopkeeper looked up from the mess in her

store and cried with us.” You said no accident! She

laughs,

and

then

gains

her

Malcolm, it was another old man. thing like him, really. that age driving.

composure.

“It

wasn’t

This geezer didn’t look a

It just got me to thinking of a man

I thought about the dignity of these men.

That is quite honorable of you.

Defending dignity and all

So you took it upon yourself to stop his driving? “That is how Max says it.”

She raises her hands. “I could be wrong.

I might be proud of it too.

gladly be wrong to the face of a living man.

I will

I figure I can be

wrong and he will still be alive.” Point taken I need to go to back in the barn with Een.

We planned to

draw up a storyboard for the development of the drug. big day for me.

This is a

I don’t feel good about putting you guys out.

“A trip like that with Malcolm is no chore for Maxwell. Those two can go on for hours together.” How many hours is it by car to Heathrow? “Under two” So, nearly four hours altogether? “It’s something along those lines. about.

It’s nothing to worry

They don’t want to take a minute away from your work.

They will do more than you expect to move this along.” They will be appreciated for that. …

I neglect to mention you.

Thank you Shirley

The rest of the day/evening was dedicated to this storyboard project.

It was done as Een walked in and out of my room.

He

was providing constant guidance to the students in the main work room

who

were

producing

the

first

of

hundreds

of

detailed

drawings to make up this story. He is a strong instructor.

I feel that I am gaining a lot

more understanding of this development process. Een has been around here for a long time.

After twelve

years with the doc, he has the whole story.

I am surprised that

he isn’t trying to grab some credit here.

I respect him for

that.

As long as it is the case I will respect him for it.

He had to go home. a wife as well.

He has a wife and two children.

I have

I plan to setup meetings with her on the

teleconference, we have had several already.

I think we will

enjoy that, and it might give me some insight into the parts of this whole thing that have been lovingly kept from me. I need that sort of thing especially now. hits the pavement here. already respect you for.”

The adulation

“Show us the things you can do that we (Never actually said)

I am pulling out my amazing self and readying for thrills.

These people are nothing compared to what I can be.

Just watch

while I pirouette through this pharmaceutical nonsense. As of now, 9pm, I have the house largely to myself. current

resident

is

downstairs

dissertation

doesn’t show her face that often.

writing.

The She

I only have seen her once or

twice per day for the three that I have been here. Dr. Blythe has a study with a comfortable burgundy leather chair.

I will sit with you Tribe.

while I typed into other files.

The Tribe has been sleeping

It would get mad, if it weren’t

inanimate. I did get a reply to an e-mail to Sangeeta.

I had asked her

to set up some “alone” time on the videoconference with me.

She

set up a meeting for Her, Gerhardstein, Miles, Sangeeta, some other

folks

requesting.

and

me.

She

knows

that

wasn’t

what

I

was

It was just a quick dash off.

Any way, I will see my sweet, along with the others at the meeting. So there’s that. I

am

relaxing

to

Stellar

Regions,

a

Coltrane

Relaxing to this is as twisted as I suppose I am.

album.

Trane’s late-

in-life work is filled with constant turbulent, sometimes sour tones.

This one was found by his wife and released in 1995.

He

died in ’67. Miss Viv is about. bathrobe.

I

am

not

She has gone into the kitchen in her

sure

why

she

lives

here.

There

basement; I haven’t been there as it looks foreboding. seemed relieved that she was moving back there.

is

a

Blythe

I understand

that was to be staying down there before moving into my current room.

Somehow she ended up in one of the bedrooms. There is not

a whiff of suspicion in the air. One would expect some, with young lady like that bunked with professor.

This

professor

will

decide

now,

in

on

her

doctorate,

no

less. She stairs

is

to

lurking,

here

right

quarters.

considering contact.

She

the

appears,

hallway from

between

shadows,

near

to

be

I will ready my switch-button to avoid her

roving eye. (Note: Only discussed three or four times in thousands of pages, and never detailed further than the name “Switch-Button”, is a setting Peter kept to immediately switch from his diatribe to a more innocuous document.

It is the earliest stated recognition

of the need to protect diatribe content.) She does walk in.

The bathrobe is tattered at the hem.

She stands at an inch or so short of a full six feet. I am six-one. I am almost six-one. I am six-feet tall, to be honest with that. rounding up in high school. six.

I began

My closest friend Al was six foot

I wanted to be six-foot-something, not just six-foot. She is still standing there. Here she comes, be right back

Kind of creepy

“So, what are you writing in there?” I am updating this storyboard Een and I have been working on. I offered my screen for her examination. “I wondered if you were writing about people as you were talking to them” That is, of course, always a possibility. “I think any of those guys in the department would give their left bullock to read all of that. has been disseminated by Malcolm.

Everything we have seen

He insinuates that there is a

lot more in there.” You would have to be a lifelong confidant of my wife’s to read those passages. She steps over and grabs the Tribe.

This is why I continue

with this subject. The robe, some kind of silk or satin number, was without a tie or buttoned closure.

Bended arms holding my diatribe gadget

and its stylus writing accessory were what kept the frock from falling to the floor.

These breasts broke free and rite in my eyes.

danced their gravitational

They lacked presentational qualities that I

have enjoyed in bosoms previously.

Not that they were

unattractive by nature, it’s just that I wasn’t sure they were being presented to me. She is in her twenties, she is not overweight, and nothing is likely to be grotesque.

Nothing was grotesque.

I was left to wonder whether there was any amount of carnality in the actions of a woman who seemed devoid of any prurient thoughts. The thing that threw me wasn’t boobs. a pair of, less than flattering, panties. not manufactured to seduce. “knickers”.

She was wearing only White, cotton, and

In England they call them

That is a word for knee-length trousers in a

Dickensian boy-clothing. are not sexy clothes.

At least in my experience it is.

They

They are not lingerie.

They were an over-laundered white.

Viv’s locks are dark.

There is clearly a color-coordination between the drapery and the floor coverings.

This was apparent through the thin veneer

of the undergarment. The vagina is altogether hard to separate from base

carnality. This particular vagina was uncomfortably close to me and obscenely visible.

As mentioned, it wasn’t completely

visible, but the organ that dare not speak its name does not nee to show its face to be considered obscenely visible.

It just

needs to have it’s presence be noticed. Whether she realizes the import of putting it in the room in such a way, I just don’t know. she had no idea.

If I had to bet, I would say

I am inclined to say she is unaware.

This is a situation some me would jump for.

It is not a

prudishness or unblemished moral stance on my part that keeps me from partaking.

I dread the hassle.

like this would certainly cause.

What craziness; something

Wealthy and powerful men, who

have the resources and connections to arrange things on a nearly guaranteed down-low will throw caution to the wind for a bit of the ole Orel Hershiser. She moves closer as I right that paragraph.

She is rearing

the face of her sex, swaying to music that is hardly danceable. I must take some umbrage at this. While I’m here, can you make it a point to cover yourself appropriately? She lifts one arm to inspect the sleeve, leaving her

breasts and mid-section uncovered. “This is the nicest robe I have.

I don’t have a lot of

nice clothes” Not my point at all, your robe is fine, it is just not proper in the situation. All of a sudden, she is offended. “We are scientists around here. over your magical writings.

Every one is all-a-flutter

I hope there is more to it than

fashion critiques of your hosts. I have over four hundred pages of dissertation downstairs. I will probably have to rewrite them five times each before Blythe accepts it.

We don’t live the charmed life that you do.

I can’t just dash off a diary and have people glowing with praise.” She was gone before I could clarify. much.

I will mention it to Dr. Blythe.

escaped my consciousness so quickly.

I don’t care that The partial nudity has

It is her commentary on my

place here that really struck me. For years now I did just think I was writing a diary, one that was titled with a tired play on words.

Oops I think I might have made a mystique. Everyone makes mystiques.

(Title that shit right there.

You thought I would go with some kind of vaginal title.) That is probably not true.