A couple of nights ago, I did a flurry of activity on this site—I wiped out this and that—"Simplicity!" I exclaimed. No external script references; no embeds. "Make it 1995 again!" I chirped. Like a squirrel darting across the street, I panted, "No New Year's Resolutions, no links, no playlists. Words, words, words!"

I don't know what I was thinking. I restored everything from an April 1 backup (that's where Jekyll/markdown really shines: I zip up my entire site for 7-13 MB). It's an extension of the Big Tech vs. freedom runthrough I'm playing.

I do this thing where I drill down to the cores of two sides of something. But, it is not a mental cardio workout; I eventually do find a solution. Like, I used to be bad at re-installing Windows, night after night. I'd switch it out for some flavor of Linux. I got really good at installing Linux—fast, efficient, one long install script for all my applications that was automated (Windows is a chore in that regard). In time, I actualized that, yeah, Windows is an inferior product unless you want gaming.

I did it the same between WordPress and Jekyll/Markdown. In fact, that's how I lost the back end of my 2018 posts along with all of 2019. "Snip, snap! Snip, snap! Snip, snap!" In time, I recognized that a static platform was exactly what I virtually the entire world wide web needs (with the exception of those sites that require interactivity, bill payment, multimedia, etc).

So there are gains to be had in this madness. I really ought to invest more time into thought experiments!

I ran through an idea in my head last night that was thought-provoking and might serve as a life-bending catalyst:

What if an angelic host named Mike took on the form of a code enforcement officer physical form and parked his white truck in my drive as I edged haphazardly the sidewalk to ask me one question:

Your Daddy wants to grant you one wish for your birthday this summer—anything you want. But, it's gotta be on a personal level. You cannot alter determinism for somebody else or on a global scale for that matter. Think of it as an...upgrade. A level up. What's it gonna be?

That's a challenging one to answer. I mean, instantly I'm thinking, "More Upgrades!" But then I'd return to the same place.

Most of the things you'd immediately jump toward are a curse. That yoke around the neck of great fame and fortune—naw, I ain't running with that. Folks with those lead awful lives!

A chiseled body—hey, immortality even! "Watch loved ones slowly die as you too, can grab a front row seat to watch history unfold as all the me-gods spiral further down into decadence and degradation!"

And thus I consider that which matters: "What about knowing all the intricacies of Scripture? Recite and exegete like a master craftsman! That can't be bad, right?" But, knowledge puffs up. Satan himself knows Scripture better than me. And what was Satan's failure? Pride. (Beauty and hunger for power are his hallmarks. He is an enticing entity, not a threatening, repulsive abhorration.)

Well, what about great wisdom? Become the wisest master—grow a long beard! And then write Ecclesiastes of how I failed miserably to do what I know. No, I know enough to regret what I know.

Even if it was to max out a skill, I would be shackled to the knowledge of what it is like to be great in one area and then lament how impossible it would be to build up another ability to that height.

So what then?

"You know what, Mike? I can't think of a thing I could use. Could you hand me that cup of water?"