Instead of running a system font stack for this site, I have applied Braille Institute's Atkinson Hyperlegible.

See, I'll use Brave's speedreader mode from time to time. Yesterday, I just got curious as to what font it uses. I like it, so, I slapped it up. And this time around, I got it set up on my Google Charts, using ChatGPT to cover those pesky hover bubbles.

I sat down and worked on my New Mid Year's Resolutions, the replacement for my New Year ones. And you know what I did? Wiped the whole thing out! Every resolution! That's not to say I then went on a Twinkie-fueled rampage down at the donut shop. "Mmmm, forbidden apple fritter..." Those are the best aren't they?

However...

A little voice in my head began urging me to shave off this big ol' beard of mine. I actually like this growth. Like a woman with her cascading beauty, a man looks better with a beard. Put facial hair on any man and they are instantly upgraded. I mean, do you really want this guy? No, THIS is the guy you want. And yes, I have literally eaten a Vidalia onion like that sans the dry outer layer.

There are internal drivers within me—life goals, whatever. They don't necessarily line up with the calendar date of New Year's Eve, though that's always just a delightful place to start! Resolutions aren't required...directly. But I wonder if this beard is my canary in the coal mine? If I stash my goals away into a drawer, are they out-of-sight / out-of-mind, like an object permanence thing? If they're no longer declared (like a variable), do they no longer exist?

My Resolutions are wrapped around the idea of preparing me for what lies ahead.

Thus, what do I want to do? What am I resolved to do? I am reminded of one of the final scenes of the reimagined Battlestar Galactica series:

Kara: So, what about you? What are you gonna do? Today is the first day of the rest of your life, Lee.

Lee: Well, I always thought when this was all done, I would...kick back, relax, spend the rest of my days doing the absolute minimum humanly possible.

Kara: And now that you're here?

Lee: I want to explore! I want to climb the mountains, I want to cross the oceans, I want to...I can't believe I'm saying this, it sounds too exhausting, I must be crazy

I still have that passion in my heart—despite my 40s! I forget that I'm even there, despite having experienced a part of the 1970s... 1980s... 1990s... 2000s... 2010s... 2020s. I'm now finishing up my 46th year—about to begin the 47th! We tend to forget that those created-to-be-blown-out birthday candles are for bygone years—not new thresholds.

Years ago, I closed off that adventure into the unknown, leap into the abyss hall of my heart. Was it out of responsibilities/obligations? Maybe it was undergoing remodeling or something. There is value in stability. And there's a reason why I don't go zany on the fonts for this site: when you have an audience, you want to meet their typographical expectations. Don't make them think more about the type than the content.

And the journey I want is not the stuff of vacations at the beach, existential escapism playing dress-up, hubbed at the Holiday Inn. That's boring. And frankly, creatively spurious. The mirror there looks out over the same view.

I am not talking about vacations anyway, that one-and-done cash heist. It is the journey inside of us. The Hero's Journey has always wooed me. That's common to mankind, isn't it?

I don't want everyone else's life—I don't want to subsist in a Nutrition Facts existence—or even a grocery store reality!

I am drawn to a world with no electricity, to be up and down with the Sun. To feel alive as the rain cascades down my back. To work with my hands...

To see life; to see the world; to eyewitness great events; to watch the faces of the poor and the gestures of the proud; to see strange things—machines, armies, multitudes, shadows in the jungle and on the moon; to see man's work—his paintings, towers and discoveries; to see things thousands of miles away, things hidden behind walls and within rooms, things dangerous to come to; the women that men love and many children; to see and take pleasure in seeing; to see and be amazed; to see and be instructed.

Henry Luce (1936)

I suppose what I want can't really be codified into a New Year's Resolution.