Amaebi

"The use of portable electronic devices is now permitted aboard this flight." Too much flying -- I've been learning the lingo. Maybe I should be a flight attendant. I can look out the window and tell that we've reached a safe cruising altitude."

Ever walk into a thoroughly clean house-a house so neat that it transcends 'living quarters' and trans-mutates into something more akin a shrine? A house where the sparkle from numerous (very tidy) objects combine into a luminescence greater than the sum of its parts? If you can imagine a house like this, then you can imagine a website like this.

With what we've read so far, it seems that Amaebi is in fact accustomed to this sort of thing - website development, ya know? Amaebi is a clean read, an experience that is exhilarating in its pace of conversation. If you assume that simplicity is a virtue (and it should be) then you might give this site an A+. Simplicity, however, has its drawbacks as well.

This site is so simple that it's hard to find the 'archives' section. No bother though, as all the links seem to be operational and it is quite easy to scroll backwards (methodically) to find anything that you might want to read.

As for 'Amaebi' herself, it's nice to see such a perfect mix of even handed humor, personal insight, and intelligent analytical thought. Seeing as how the soul feeds on both art and rote mentality, here's a bit about a Steinbeck fan run amok:

"A few years back I finally did get to visit Cannery Row. What a soul-draining experience. The canneries are gone. In their place: an aquarium packed with tourists, a wine tasting room selling t-shirts and baguettes, and a bunch of high-end boutiques and cafes built to look aged, to capitalize on an inimitable legend. I prefer the legend, or my literarilly filtered memory of it, for the legend was destroyed as soon as I experienced the postmodern reality. Why do people think they can artificially inject history into the newly constructed present? Steinbeck must be rolling over in his grave."

L.A. Stories

Amanda K. Erickson on L.A.

"I do go and seek out special adventures to write about. My goal is to piece together what Los Angeles is. I am sure I am not alone in tackling a city like this in terms of concepts rather than realities. This stuff intrigues me and I hope it intrigues you as well."

It's always an adrenaline rush to discover a gold mine like this. The design is so crisp that it practically peels off the screen in neat quad-form rectangular e-magic slices. Add a bit of intelligent reminiscence and a pint of irony, and you've got one of the better and more definitive guides to 'What's Going On In L.A.'

"I mean, hello?! What a nosy, stupid, arrogant, patronizing, old fart windbag! He went on to ask me what I did and when I told him web design he asked if I worked at home. He went on to suggest that that must be a good thing and will be great for when kids come along.

"I very much wanted to shove his stethoscope far, far up into a dark and uncomfortable place. Maybe then he could listen to his own ass for once instead of talking out of it."

We definitely recommend this one.

Elliot's Story

The technical ramifications reflected in presenting a piece of prose authored by a five year old are numerous. Solution? Wait until you're older, and then post about it.

6/7/48-Age 5

"Judy Rupert lived in apartment 4G, which was directly below us. Today she came up to our place to play. She was playing with Maude but I kept butting in. I was lonely and wanted to be included. Judy got angry and started hitting me. Really hard. Maude jumped to my rescue. She started hitting Judy, who went running for the door. Maude chased her out of our apartment. Then Maude came back to the room where I was whimpering and said, "Nobody beats up my brother. Except ME!" Maude then beat the shit out of me."

Apart from the challenges of presenting material from this far in the past (some of the later stuff pegs Elliot at 52), there is also the argument about what precisely 'online journaling' is. Not to fear; there is lots here to read, it's easy to navigate, and it does reveal a lot about the reader. For example:

8/5/95-Age 52

"This morning there was a note from Slut. She said she had to go off on a family matter, but had a chance to call Nipples. According to Slut, Nipples was still feeling the aftereffects, and told Slut that she thought that I was amazing, and that she spent the rest of the night walking around naked feeling sexier than she had in years, and wanted to know when I would continue her D/s training... another satisfied customer, thought I."

We're assuming D/s is 'dominant/submissive' training. Way to go, Elliot.

Obsessive Compulsive

Hoorah for unabashed and unrestrained social commentary.

"Tonight was the closest I've gotten to actually picking up a girl since I've moved to LA. Not that that's any major accomplishment by most people's standards, but for me it would be quite a breakthrough. Her name was Christa, and had she not been so completely plastered, I am sure I would have walked out of the club with her number. Instead, I watched some black guy take advantage of her by pushing her into the corner, basically forcing her into dancing with him, if groping can be called dancing. It was hard to tell if she was enjoying it or not, considering she was barely moving, but when she left for the night, the two friends she came with were hotly disputing her decision to hand out her number to the black guy, confirming my suspicion that drunkenness played a major role in her actions."

Welcome to Jeremy's corner of e-space, uploaded periodically from Calabasas, L.A. Jeremy currently resides in L.A. doing fixed income research for an investment firm. Not of his own personal choice, mind you, but simply because the money gods demand it. And where the money gods exhort their influence, yeh, we must traverse.

"I had thought yesterday that we were completely done with the recent portfolio valuation, and we wouldn't have to muck around with option-adjusted spread (OAS) crap for the servicing exchange again for quite some time. I was wrong. Very, very wrong. I had only been in the office for about two hours when our database guy Mark came outside all flustered while I was smoking with some of the office addicts. Since he doesn't smoke, I knew something was up. Sure enough, my boss was looking all over for me, because of some major problem Mark couldn't explain. I hightailed it upstairs, and got the skinny. Dave, the CEO, had just gotten back from New York, and after looking at the numbers we came up with Monday night, decided they were complete shit."