why you should've known: first off, the secret message in <a href="http://dealingwith.blogspot.com/2002_04_01_dealingwith_archive.html#75070659">the double entry that was different</a>: This job decides what to do he has a system, you see. he cycles through works with women Names are on and off And this is about once a week head Truth is in the world is out give it a hard turn and get out That could be a good thing. before life stalls out all done that crossing wires shit That�s nice. ....it all makes sense now, doesn't it?? second, <a href="http://dealingwith.blogspot.com/2002_04_01_dealingwith_archive.html#75504743">this major hint</a> referred to <a href="http://dealingwith.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_dealingwith_archive.html#10955964">this picture</a>, which originally said "international paper" in the bottom right corner. now it said 75301-1311. (Check the archive which has the first version first and the second version second.) Even if you don't know that it's a ZIP code, there is a search engine, <a href="http://www.google.com/search?sourceid=navclient&querytime=QpKa&q=75301%2D1311">a very good search engine</a>, which will return just one result if you search for that number. third, there are a lot more subtle hints throughout but i would have to go look for them myself to tell you about them, and i just don't have the time right now... 76081915daniel millerThursday, May 02, 2002publishspecial thanks to: the audience i know of--scott, jason, and dan, especially scott for encouraging me, oh and of course miriam for sticking to it because of me even when the dogs were grossing you out; the counting crows for getting me through that huge second to last section; the story i first heard on npr that sort of fueled this thing, but now i can't find it for the life of me, some guy whose mother and brother were major criminals and finally got caught when they murdered an old lady for the insurance money, if you know who i'm talking about email me; south florida for the constant fuel--i really did see two middle aged white people set off the alarm at Marshals and no one bothered saying anything to them, they just walked right out the store, i really did see the bus come and stop in the super-rich neighborhood in west palm where the weekend group bike rides go; and if you're reading this, thank YOU. cheers, daniel 76080893daniel millerpublish<center>the end</center> 76080071daniel millerpublishThis is the part of the movie where we call in Madonna�s husband for some visual help. This is the part of the movie where Obi Wan Kenobi climbs out of the public junkie toilet and pukes on the public junkie toilet floor. This is the part where the scene freeze-frames, but the camera is able to spin around. Where the Matrix lady is just about to kick the shit out of some computer program figments of her virtual imagination. Except this isn�t the movies. Not exactly. This is the part where we swing the camera around from behind to in front of Johnny and see him frozen in terror. No. No, this is not happening. Really. This is the part where we swing the camera around from behind to in front of Johnny and see him speaking to us. <center>No. I mean that. This really isn�t happening. I�ve meant that. This is the part when you finally get to see who�s been talking to you all this time.</center> And he suddenly has the same face as the guy who�s got his right hand wrapped tight around his Judas Priest in the changing room that you definitely never want to use if you ever happen to be buying some Arizona denim blue jeans in the future. Not that they aren�t a fine brand of <a href="http://www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/8291/blyjean.mid">jean</a>. It�s just that that is a giz stain on that little tiny changing room chair. This the part where you suddenly realize why Micha is always looking so good. Because Micha works in women�s apparel. Because in fact Micha was a man�s name. Because in fact Micha was a man. Gay, but a man nonetheless. Because in fact Micha was the women�s apparel manager at a <a href="http://www.mapquest.com/maps/map.adp?countrycode=250&country=US&address=755+State+Rt+18+Ste+600&city=E+Brunswick&state=NJ&zipcode=&addtohistory=&submit.x=18&submit.y=10">chain store</a> in the Brunswick Square Mall in East Brunswick New Jersey. Was. Is. Whatever. What difference does it make? What difference does it make with all these toes around? Because this is definitely not the part where Renton appears in his brown monk robe, light saber in hand, and saves the day. This isn�t even the part where Irvine Welsh gets a nice fat check in the mail. This definitely isn�t the part where George Lucas makes more dollars than I�ve killed swimmers all over this place. This isn�t even the part where Chuck Palahniuk gets his third book turned into his third screenplay turned into his third movie turned into his third fat check in the mail. This isn�t even the part in Fight Club where Brad Pitt makes all the girls squeal in delight at the thought of eating his spooge out of a bowl of cream of mushroom soup. But it is the closest to that one. Squeal that is until they find out it was really Edward Norton making them choose between spit and swallow. But this isn�t a movie. Point is, this is the part where you�ve seen me talking to you now for a couple seconds and you realize my voice has changed. You realize you never heard the voice of my brother, but that you were always hearing the voice of brother. You know, the sick one? I�m the good one. He�s the failure. I�m the success. This is the part when you realize I�m brother. 76080049daniel millerpublish<a href="http://www.philkim.com/index2.html">philkim.com</a> how do we know this man? raspberries of course! 76056528daniel millerWednesday, May 01, 2002publishJust re-read/proofed the final Micha installment (and backed it up!) and I'm jonesing to put it up! ha ha ha. I can't decide if it's great or stupid but I like it. They'll be a postlude too in case you care. One more post after the end. 76047461daniel millerpublishYeah. One more before we say "the end." If you want the ending <a href="mailto:mill6858@bellsouth.net">email me</a>. update: that means the contest will be over. That last one was a doozy. No wonder it took me a while. It was 5.5 pages printed out. Enjoy. 76045329daniel millerpublishAbout the time the sun was going down, Micha and Johnny were sitting at a sidewalk caf� just across and up from the jewelry store. Their black-haired accomplice came out the front doors, looked up and down the street for Micha and Johnny but not seeing them, and locked them. He walked in their direction but still did not see them, ducking down an ally near the shop that headed in the opposite direction from where they were sitting. Micha pretended not to see him and continued to sip her coffee. Johnny new she had, though. The tension level in their auric sphere had just gone up a notch. About a half hour later, Micha finished her coffee, said it was time to go, and stood up. Johnny was on a roller coaster, at the top of the first hill, at his local theme park. Robber�s World. He wanted so badly to get off that coaster. He wished so much he hadn�t begged and begged to ride it. He wished so much he had been shorter, too short to ride it. He wished so bad that he had just climbed straight through the coaster-car when it was his turn, just jumping right across to the exit platform instead of sitting down and letting that yellow-padded steel retraining bar come down over his shoulders. But he hadn�t. He was here. Along for the ride. And the first cars were starting to head over the crest of that hill. Micha led the way away from the jewelry shop, much to Johnny�s surprise. Hey, it�s barely dark out. What were you thinking? <center>Me, thinking?</center> Micha walked around the area, down a couple residential streets nearby, seemingly looking for something. Finally she found it. Parked on the street in front of a house in said nearby residential area was one of those Home Depot pickup trucks that you can rent by the hour or day. Let�s hope they�ve rented it for the day. Let�s hope they won�t notice/mind its disappearance until�would tomorrow morning be ok with you? There was a lot of commotion coming from the back of the house it was parked in front of. i.e. They just finished moving/installing Jacuzzi/picking up entertainment center/repairing old rotted fascia board/putting in brick-paved walkway down the side of the house and were now enjoying some cold ones out back. <center>And let�s hope they don�t have guns.</center> Micha walks up to the truck, opens the unlocked door, and says to Johnny, still standing in the road at this point, �Get in.� By the time Johnny is getting into the truck, Micha�s already got it started. The keys were in the ignition. The truck starts up rather loudly, much to Johnny�s anxiety�s loathing, and they rumble down the street. Micha drives around for a while. �Figured I�d do some advertising for Home Depot since they were nice enough to loan us this here truck�. After what seems like hours, 25 minutes, she drives a careful route back to the jewelry shop area and parks in a nondescript parking lot around the corner from the back ally of the shop. At first, Johnny doesn�t even realize where they are. Micha has traded in her beach bad for a real canvas gym bag. It�s full of a bunch of heavy tools she figures she�ll need for the job. She leads Johnny down a side street and then into the ally behind the jewelry shop. Every move she makes seem purposed, destined, full of intention, drive, and confidence. Two quick looks for any potential onlookers and Micha tries the back door to the shop. It�s unlocked. Good boy. They both sneak quickly into the back room of the shop. It is a small room, gray mostly, and there are no windows at all. There is one gray, solid looking door into the main showroom. There are some filing cabinets and drawers along the right side of the room and a table with a medium-sized safe on it along the left side of the room. Micha closes the door behind them and takes a big breath. She�s still unusually quiet and focused. She heads for the safe and puts her bag on the ground near the table. She unzips its long zipper slow and calculated like. Out of the bag she pulls an extra-sized crowbar, and she proceeds to get the tip of that crowbar right between the door and the body of that safe. <center>Wow.</center> But then she starts to crow. Pry. Whatever you call it. I�ll tell you what, this woman has some strength in her. That safe is jostling all around on top of that table, crowbar sticking out from the between its door and its body. You�d hate to be a man in her hands. After about five long minutes without any luck--she can get the door pried open just a little bit, but can�t get the mechanism to pop--Micha wakes Johnny out of his shock/sleep: �Get over here and help me!� Johnny, woken from his shock/sleep, jumps/comes to Micha�s aide. Except he�s not as strong as she is. He grips the crowbar and give it a weird tug/twist, and manages to get the tip/crow-part of the crowbar inside the safe, the door open just the width of the crowbar body now. In other words, stuck. Micha grabs the tool back from him and tries this new angle, but it is no use. The safe has essentially swallowed the useful part of the crowbar. Johnny returns into his near-catatonic state while Micha returns to her bag for more useful/plan B tools. She pulls out a cordless power drill with a not-small metal bit. �Ree-ree.� She proceeds to place the drill on the side of the body of the safe, close to the door. This is supposedly where the locking mechanism is. This is supposedly just like the car ignition, but on steroids. Oh, and by the way, that tension level in the auric air now filling this small gray back room of some jewelry store with bad security? Yeah. �Ree-ree� Micha drills into the side of the safe, quite successfully in fact. Little metal filing come spinning out of the ever deepening hole she�s making in the side of this thing. By the time she�s done there�s quite a little pile on the table under her hole. Oh, and by the way, �by the time she�s done?� Yeah. You know how when you�ve drilled all the way through something the �ree-ree� gets higher pitched because the drill is spinning without any resistance anymore? Yeah. No. That ain�t happening here. You know that �ruh-ruh� when the electric motor of the drill can�t turn the bit anymore because it�s come up against something stronger than it is? Yeah. That�s what�s happening here. The drill stops turning somewhere in there. �Ruh-ruh.� �Shit.� Micha leaves the drill sticking out of the side of the safe and tries the crowbar one more time for completeness sake. Just in case. Nuh-uh. No. No joy. Not this time. That tension level? How many notches do we have before we top out here? Micha�s calm/cool/confident side that had been predominant up until this point? Yeah. She kicks the table, shoves the safe, kicks the wall, etc., etc. �Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit!!!! �Johnny, go get the car!� �What?� Johnny�s near-catatonic state? Yeah. �Get that fucking truck!� Gone. Replaced by: adrenaline. Replaced by: immediate response to authoritative command. Replaced by: compliance. Johnny is out the door before everything begins to register again, running down the ally and out into the side street. He gets to the Home Depot truck, starts it up, and drives it back to the narrow ally. It barely fits. For some reason, by instinct maybe, he backs it down the ally to the door of the jewelry shop. By the time he�s coming up to the door, Micha is coming out of it with a big metal hook attached to a metal cable. She�s struggling to get the hook onto the bumper of the truck, and Johnny gets out of the truck to see what�s happening/assist maybe. Micha�s somehow got that cable attached to four points on the door of that safe. The body of the safe is being held by another cable, connected to a portable winch, which is also somehow already attached to the floor/wall behind the safe. �What the�? How did you�? �?� ��?�, by the way, is the Universal Literary Symbol for Jaw-Open Confused Look. Micha gets the hook onto the bumper of the rolling Home Depot advert. �Get inside and be careful.� Micha tells Johnny in a stressed-out mother�s voice. Johnny goes inside through the half-propped-open-by-the-cable door and Micha gets into the truck. Johnny can hear the engine rev up. �Ruh-ruh.� Except really loud. The carbon monoxide fumes shoot straight into the room. It�s practically poetic. It�s practically a civil war narrative. It�s practically a World War II documentary. It�s practically nowhere near Tom Hanks eating really good at the catering table after shooting a major death-and-suffering scene on his way to making however many million dollars saving some Private Ryan. <center>What about private Johnny?</center> Micha peels that pickup down that narrow ally as fast as it will go from zero and that tiny bit of slack in that metal cable connecting that truck to that safe gets taken up that fast. That safe gets yanked off that table in a sideways direction towards the door. It doesn�t even hit the floor, although it grazes Johnny standing just almost in the very wrong place, on it�s way to slamming against the doorframe at the back of this little jewelry shop. That winch holding the body of that safe to that wall? Yeah. No possible way. The impact is so violent that some of the drywall turns back into dust and fills the air with gray powder. This combines nicely with the carbon monoxide fumes. However the desired result is reached. Sort of. The door frame holds up against the body of the safe, but the door of the safe is just right to be pried off the body by the force of the Home Depot. That safe door just comes flying off, drug behind the truck now, and the contents of the safe go sprawling out all over the ally. Contents of safe: cash, paperwork, gold, silver, and diamonds. Contents of safe: floating around in the air, bouncing on the ground, pinging off the wall opposite the store. It�s like a war movie meets one of those movies where tons of cash ends up floating down from some tall building where the bad guy and the good guy both had one hand on the briefcase and then the briefcase opens up and the money all flies out towards the crowd waiting below to grab at it aimlessly. Johnny�s standing there in his gassy dust cloud, watching the money float around in the air, watching the diamonds bounce off the brick wall across the ally. Then watching the brick wall across the ally flash. Flash red. Flash blue. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. Then hearing a voice over a public address system, not the good kind used at concerts, the kind attached to the grills of cars. <center>Welcome to Taco Bell. Would you like to try our new Club Chalupa? Charlie Brown�s teacher.</center> Ma�m, step away from the vehicle. Red. Blue. Ma�m, step away from the vehicle. Cash floating. Diamonds bouncing. Jewelry store documents falling into puddles on the ally road, their records being erased by the effect of water on ink. Red. Blue. Ma�m, step away from the vehicle. Red. Blue. .. Red. .. Blue. .. White. 76045256daniel millerpublishmore updates: 1. the whole thing about riddell's article is that he and my crew are doing the same thing. i was very happy to hear that, since it's not like we're all in cahoots (sp?) or anything. i get more burned by the day by the amount of peps out there in this 'postmod' christian world who are supported for doing the same thing, with possibly less practical result, than we are. get out there people! integrate! damn; i need to finish 'my new church' parts 2 and 3. 2. going on a roadtrip starting this thursday up north. going to record with a friend, scope out the DC area, etc. so if i'm really quiet over the weekend here u know why. 3. as if. 4. anyone's reading. 5. ha ha ha ha ha 76003477daniel millerTuesday, April 30, 2002publish<a href="http://www.osbd.org/article/13/">osbd - one small barking dog - mike riddell interview apr 2002</a> there were too many gems to try and quote here. very important, quick read. how's this for a tease: ...more important is the recognition that God is present and active in the whole human population, and that if the risen Christ is to be found anywhere it is among ordinary people. We need to relocate ourselves into the mainstream, instead of huddling off into a corner feeling smug about our own righteousness. I think the church as gathered group and fixed congregation is probably in its last stages. We are more likely to find dispersed groups of friends who celebrate their faith in small ways. 75964760daniel millerMonday, April 29, 2002publishUpdate on a few things: 0. My jaw is doing much better since my major TMJ attack one week ago. I have to eat real slow, and eating isn't really enjoyable, which might make this the best diet control program ever. A beer or two seems to help some, though, so I think that's compensating in the bad calories dept. I've started much more regular consumption of the substance. 1. Went to Wal-Mart again today and was feeling very dissonant about my piece that's going to be in Next-Wave next month. Not going to do anything about it, but I realized that people are precious and community happens despite the terrible structures built up around us. I was actually feeling much more mad at Starbucks for branding community. Oh and I finished Palahniuk's Survivor and am reading just No Logo now, which will contribute to my anti-corp./brand/consumerbrainwashing. Plus I want to return it to it's owner. 2. So far at least <a href="http://www.dooce.com/02_26_02.html">1</a> (on a side note a few months later she totally stopped updating her <a href="http://www.dooce.com/">site</a>) person has been fired because of her blog, although just a little <a href="http://metatalk.metafilter.com/mefi/1887">digging</a> reveals quite a bit more of this type of thing. While I am currently unemployed, I do have one (count them, 1) client for whom I am doing some web design, and would like to think that my maintenance of my web site does not offend them in any way. Besides they have a very vicious attacker out there keeping them busy on that whole front. Besides I like them and the work so I can't imagine any problems. EVEN SO, I've long since concerned myself with what I put on the blog, be it the truth about my old work, the truth about new prospects, or just the abundance of the f-word in my Micha story, which I also post to this blog. Particularly the last bit, although the Micha story is a rough and tumble story hence all the cursing. I mean, it is fiction, right? But this all leads to an interesting thread which says, who are you trying to please? For example, I've had to be careful about what I say about our government, since Miriam is about to be hired by them. Not that I'm any more displeased now than ever (ok maybe a little bit more), but still. Our system is based around this thing called freedom, right? Same for corporations. I love how corporations, since they're giving you livelihood, think they can rule it over you like Nazis. If a corporate culture has no communications and bad morale, how can they expect their employees to be silent about their conditions? WAKE UP CALL TO CORP. BOARDS AND MANAGERS: if your employees hate working for you, YOU are probly doing something wrong. THIS WORLD is about the human condition, not $$$$ AS YOU MIGHT BELIEVE. The point is, their opinions and comments, if constructive (and even cynical comments can be constructive), should be used to improve things. They were said because something isn't right and needs to be changed. Why is the world run by fear? (That was a rhetorical question by the way.) I have to be careful so I don't piss off (pick one or more): the church, my employer, my potential employer, my audience, my potential audience? For me, I'm really only concerned about pissing off God. He's the one who could really screw me. And since my whole life has been about seeking after Him/Her, I think I might be ok in that department. People will continue to hate me for no reason, lie to me and about me to others, assume the worst about me, try and discourage me, refuse to understand me, just plain never understand me despite their better intentions. These things cannot be helped. All I ask is that God understands me. And sometimes I feel like he does. All this to say, I'm about to put my blog on my homepage, after Micha has finished with all her cursing and a new, less violent but possibly even more troubling story, begins. I will try and watch what I say. If you don't get it, that's ok. Just don't hate me for it. Don't judge me by it. They're just words. They're the best thing we've got, but they still just can't compare to divine intervention. 75939924daniel millerSunday, April 28, 2002publish<a href="http://www.gopteamleader.com/benefits.html">Benefits of GOP Team Leader - Help Further President Bush's Agenda for America - Republican National Committee</a> OH YEAH! ...got this from <a href="http://wendycooper.blogspot.com/">wendy cooper's weblog</a> 75929487daniel millerpublish<a href="http://designforcommunity.com/display.cgi/200202182129">Design for Community: Excerpt: Chapter 12: Weblogs as community</a> 75929402daniel millerpublish<a href="http://miamistories.com/">MiamiStories.com</a> 75929377daniel millerpublishyes. yes. and yes. the style at our installations is certainly nothing like ya'lls over there. we don't have the dance culture at all down here (despite being Miami and all...closest we get is when the Winter Music Conference rolls into town; actually i'm sure there are plenty of clubs in south beach playing good dance, but trust me it's a different culture; although i seem to remember something on the small fire message boards about that ;). anyway, we're from West Palm. my favorite local band is Legends of Rodeo--major American Rock'n'Roll. The biggest act out of our scene is Dashboard Confessional--major emo guy. The band we're forming for the summer is going to be punk-pop. Basically we don't have a dance bone in our bodies over here. And the music from Ecclesia was just like Caedmon's Call; but guess what?--they're about two hours apart, so yeah, South Texas music I guess. i guess it's just more the sentiment or vibe. if somebody comes to DJDC through AWDC and they see my little 'note' and they go to my mp3.com page and immediately make up their mind on us, who knows what that mind would be. i just put two new songs up there that both have cocaine references and the one has the word 'goddamn' in it. farther down the page are my 'praise and worship' tunes i would just *love* to sell off to some publisher and be done with it. besides the fact that that is all crap up there....SSSSSOOOOOOO.....but for example i'm listening to Kings of Convenience right now, who weren't dance to start out with, but were embraced by that culture. so there are plenty of examples out there of the fact that it's not style it's culture.....i guess the problem is when u grow up in the getto culture and then try to be relevant...peps don't realize they have to get out of the getto entirely...if you were to pop in the Ecclesia guy and Legends of Rodeo, you might stick them in the same Americana category...but I hear, feel and know there is a wide, wide gulf between them....or like my fav band, Over the Rhine (another Americana sound)...the getto is just now hearing about them...hello?!...but OtR fortunately is far enough along where it's neither here nor there to them what the getto thinks....the band we're starting is going to be called <s> Christian Porn Machine</s> (Update:shit!someone read that! ha ha.) in order to keep the getto away....we're here for the antigetto, because we are the antigetto. over there, you never had a getto. and you can praise God about *that*. 75925188daniel millerpublishMicha and Johnny spend the late afternoon and early evening window shopping, sitting in the park, and of course eating, all around the area where the jewelry store is. They talk all about Johnny�s problems with girls: �Fuck �em, you don�t need �em.� �and all about Micha�s problems with paying for things: �At places like Marshals, Ross, and TJ Max, you can literally just walk right out the front door with stuff, alarm ringing, and as long as you�re white, middle aged, and just bought some little shitty thing for five bucks, those nice Haitian ladies at the checkout will barely even look over their shoulder to make sure �Oh it�s just you� setting off the alarm with the $100 worth of merch in yer oversized handbag and shoved into your crotch and butt crack.� 75915231daniel millerpublishbig thanks to steve collins for these name badges for when we start our new mega-church down here: <img src="http://personal.atl.bellsouth.net/mia/m/i/mill6858/images/dmbadge2.jpg"> <img src="http://personal.atl.bellsouth.net/mia/m/i/mill6858/images/collins_badge1.jpg"> 75914664daniel millerpublish