Vive le Mission Renaissance!
I’m moving back to the Noisebridge ‘hood today. Possibly Maybe will be my temporary residence, while it lasts. (Definitely a step up from my first occupad.) If I haven’t posted over the last few days it isn’t for lack of things happening – on the contrary, too much has happened to find time for writing about it all.
I just created the paper mockup of ZiP02 (with Whimzy’s assistance of course). This is always the point where it begins to feel more real & exciting to me. It’s gone from something on a screen to a tangible object.
Two things have happened recently to make me feel that our/ZiP’s star is in the ascendant among the Noiseoisie.
1) The other night, after I attended the Agency Salon at Langton Labs and checked out the beginning of the Ayahuasca Symposium, Rubin took my photo in the Noisebridge cafe — just outside the darkroom — I think for the official photo wall posted in the stairwell. This is a very good indicator of one’s social status.
2) Then the other day, I was again working in the cafe when Rayce came by giving one of his whirlwind tours of the space for several guests, as he so often does. He pointed me out to the guests, saying, “This is Tony, he’s working on a project right now that’s Noisebridge related, the name of the project is the Noisebridge Zine.”
I could’ve corrected him — “It’s called ZiP: Zine in Progress!” — but what’s the point? I just smiled & basked in the glow of success. I am as susceptible to ego flattery as anyone — no denying that. And really, who can hate Rayce? It’s impossible. I have a damn good reason for being pissed at him — my former housemate knows it, even if no one else does — but I’m not much of a grudge-holder, not like I used to be. I get angry easily, but it fades quickly. If I’m going to be a regular part of Noisebridge (considering going for membership status next month), a relationship with Rayce is an inevitable necessity. Although I worry about him, too, to be honest. What he could do to himself or others, as hinted at on that fateful night in January that led to the destruction of my former home. (Glamortramp will be writing about that, with name changes & such, in SMOTS btw, which we hope to have finished by the Ides of March.) Frankly, there’s a reason he & JD were so drawn to each other, despite the animosity. Love & hate are closely related — it’s true. There’s no escaping destiny. Sometimes we hate those most like us, because they reflect the parts of us we vainly wish to annihilate. (Think of the end of Frank Norton’s great San Francisco novel, McTeague!)
One other thing: when Rubin was taking my photo, the light was on in the dark room, & I got to see it for the first time. Having never actually seen what lies behind that door, I had come to imagine that inside the room was a slide which took you down a long curvy course into a pool of plastic balls like the “plastic swimming pool” I used to love at Chuck-E-Cheese. And beyond that, a whole other world of eternal night & blacklights, everything fluorescent or phosphorescent or bioluminescent: a Nightworld, the land of Noisebridge at Night.
Seeing the actual room with the light on was, therefore, a bit of a letdown. *Sigh.* Sometimes it’s better not to know.
*Noiseoisie: The Noisebridge ruling class.
**Six Months on the Street. See ZFOS, above.