tracing the origins of the ultimate zone out moment, plus pixelated nipples!

i rubbed proactiv on my burn today, took me a few seconds to realize that i was putting zit cream on my wound. it was the texture of the ointment that snapped me back into the present.

i was thinking about how elegance and efficiency presume (assume? indicate?) the existence of a god--a thought that's been with me for several days (blog entry on that coming, i need to let the thought marinate some more). and THAT thought actually started a week or so ago on a train ride, while ruminating on mathematical proofs and computer code and language, and seeing buildings and re-telling myself how fucken ugly our buildings are.

ugly buildings being the reason i couldn't relate very well to howard roark's passion for architecture. back when i was reading fountainhead, i remember asking myself why ayn rand chose architecture, of all pursuits.

and, of course, realizing that our buildings are ugly only came about when i stumbled on frank gehry, thom mayne, santiago calatrava, etc. while infosnacking months ago.

you know how conversations can jump from, say, t-shirts to pixelated (as in pixel, short for picture element, as in resolution; nothing to do with "pixilated" as in crazy, as in me; which is why i prefer "pixelized"; but google has only 110,000 hits for "pixelized" and 324,000 for "pixelated"... so we go with "pixelated") nipples?

let me say that one more time without going off on a tangent: you know how conversations can jump from, say, t-shirts to pixelated nipples?
it's quite fun to trace how conversations go from one topic to another. same thing with thoughts and coming up with some sort of excuse for rubbing proactiv on my burn today.