The Computer Room

This is a story I wrote in 2021? 2022? Published in Compact Mag (not the political site). I’ve posted and re-posted it here several times. Here’s a radio drama version. As usual, I ask for your patience with audio quality.default.blog is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.“Here is natural instinct and here is control. You are to combine the two in harmony. If you have one to the extreme, you will be very unscientific; if you have another to the extreme, you become a mechanical man and no longer a human being.”“When you want to move, you’re moving, and when you move, you’re determined to move. If I want to punch, I’m going to do it, man.” – Bruce LeeDmitriy loved Bruce Lee.“What a man,” he would say in awe, poring over YouTube clips of Way of the Dragon or Fist of Fury. “what a true slice of America.”This became Dmitriy's catchphrase. Over and over again, "What a man, Bruce Lee."When Dima, which was his wife's nickname for him, or Dimochka, which was his girlfriend's nickname for him, would walk to work from the BART each morning, he'd spend forty-five minutes stalking through San Francisco's Chinatown. Some part of him must have known he wouldn't find Bruce, but still, he hoped he'd see his ghost.But Dimochka wouldn't find Bruce Lee in the window of the Chinatown outpost of Tacorea, or through the gaudy windows of House of Nanking. Nor would he find him in his martial arts classes in Dogpatch, nor his open office plan in SoMa.When he was supposed to be building out the frontend of his company’s site—something he could do but wasn’t sure why he was being asked to do—he found himself re-watching and rewinding a video titled Amazing Superhuman Speed! Bruce Lee instead.When his wife lay in bed next to him, texting her friends, he held his phone close and studied The MOST BRUTAL Display of Bruce Lee’s Speed!“Dima, the blue light,” she’d complain, still texting, not looking at him. He would hide his phone in the nightstand drawer and turn off the overhead light, keeping his AirPods in. He would fall asleep to a soundscape of Wing Chun.And on Thursday nights, when he snuck out and waited for his girlfriend to return home from work, he would watch The Forgotten First Fight of Bruce Lee.Hearing “Dimochka!”, clumsy in her American accent, should have been his cue to put his phone away, though he wouldn’t.Each meeting, he’d nervously watch his Bruce Lee videos, before telling her, “I’m too nervous to do anything.”So, she would finally kiss him, and Dimochka would spend the rest of the night looking into her eyes and repeating, “You’re so cute, how are you so cute?”His girlfriend, who probably wasn’t really his girlfriend, would repeat the same back to him, mimicking his accent, until he’d say to her, “The first time you kissed me it was like a hundred 9/11s were happening inside me.”She wouldn’t repeat this one. She wouldn’t say anything back.But one night she asked him, “Do you mean fireworks?”And Dimochka said, “Fireworks… I felt so warm inside, it was like a hundred 9/11s were happening.”He would leave out that this was only because she said yes to him at all; that she could have been any number of pretty women he fixated on, and he would have still felt warmly.Around 10, he would spring out of bed, and leave, ready to spend another forty-five minutes in Chinatown.His girlfriend-who-wasn’t-really-his-girlfriend would whine, “Dimochka, do you have to go?”And he’d give her a kiss on the forehead and say solemnly, “Sorry, I have to get home. One day.”If he took an Uber, he could probably stay at her place in the Haight until 11:30 and get back home to Bayview by midnight, but he couldn’t jeopardize his walk through Chinatown.Why was it that Chinatown was so empty by 10? It wasn’t as though there weren’t bars, it wasn’t as though there wasn’t a pulse here.He walked along the sidewalk, looking at the buildings, shuttered storefront after shuttered storefront. He looked up and down the street, at the cars, Teslas and beat up Camrys.He imagined what it would feel like to punch someone in the face.He imagined punching his wife in the face, but felt too guilty, he couldn’t even think it.He imagined punching his boss, he imagined punching the founder.He imagined punching his mother.He imagined punching his father, but he couldn’t remember what he looked like.He imagined punching a homeless guy. And then he imagined punching Bruce Lee. More than just punching him though, he imagined using a guillotine on him—the move that Bruce Lee popularized in The Way of the Dragon...He imagined Bruce overtaking him, subduing him, and that final moment, in pain, but also deeply ashamed by the defeat. He was impotent, even in his own fantasy.When Dimochka reached the end of his tour through Chinatown, he requested an Uber.He watched the driver weave in-and-out of nonexistent traffic, taking inconceivable turns down one way streets. The wait time number ticked up from 5 minutes to 10, and then 5 again, and then jumped all the way up to 15.He studied the driver’s face. He guessed that Farhood was an immigrant, too.He imagined punching Farhood.He imagined choking Farhood.He imagined grabbing him by the back of the neck and bashing his head into the cement.He imagined illegal move after illegal move. He imagined winning.He considered, for a moment, that maybe he SHOULD punch Farhood.But when Farhood finally arrived, he apologized to Dmitriy profusely.“No, don’t worry,” Dmitriy offered getting in the back seat, “Really. No big deal.”Farhood, now faceless and driving, responded, “Good attitude... Be like water. Right?”Dmitriy took out his phone and watched the last 30 seconds of The Game of Death, over and over again until they arrived back in Bayview, where his wife would be lying in bed, not looking at him, texting her friends. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit default.blog/subscribe

Today on The Computer Room, Katherine talks to Dr. Josie Zayner of the Los Angeles Project about genetic engineering and building the impossible. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit default.blog/subscribe

On today’s episode of The Computer Room, Katherine talks to Philip Rosedale, founder of Linden Lab, not just about Second Life, but about other synthetic lives. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit default.blog/subscribe

Dive into the intriguing world of AI with discussions on Meta's plans for AI-generated users and their societal implications. Explore the rising phenomenon of fictosexuality and how technology shapes emotional attachments. The podcast also tackles the intersection of luck, magic, and AI, questioning the authenticity of online interactions. Unpack the ethical dilemmas of AI in therapy and social media, while reflecting on spirituality and the quest for genuine human experiences amidst digital chaos.

Leah Prime from our fantastic Art Bell episode and of the blog We Own the Night and I talked about my initial reaction to friend.com’s chatbot launch… and why I might be wrong about it after all. This is an experimental format I’m releasing to paid subscribers only right now. Please share your feedback! It’s very likely that a more polished version will be un-paywalled later in the week… But I wanted to get a temperature check first. Do you guys like it? Should I do more? Articles referenced:Avi Schiffmann’s Tab AI necklace has raised $1.9 million to replace God This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit default.blog/subscribe

Katherine talks to Sam L. Barker about the enduring legacy of pop-punk and emo, and crucially, about how it all coalesced online. You can also listen to this on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and YouTube.Read Katherine’s article about blink-182’s unique brand of humor here.Subscribe to Sam’s Substack here.A note from Sam:Be My Escape is an essay and podcast project where I look over some of the most enduring emo (I use the term culturally and loosely) and pop-punk albums of the 00s. I want to give this selection of albums the same level of attention and analysis which more established and accepted alternative, indie, hip-hop, and electronic albums are granted. What makes them important, their cultural and personal background, and what lateral topics they uncover, be that gender, mental illness, terrorism, or sexuality. This project can be seen as a response to what might be termed the great “Emo Revival.”Since the reformation of My Chemical Romance in 2019 the genre has received a welcome critical and popular re-examination. The explosion of pure enthusiasm at the news led to an outpouring of emotions, articles and memes. Critically ignored in the 00s, and mostly forgotten in the 2010s broadsheet newspapers like The New York Times were now writing sympathetic pieces on albums like The Black Parade. Pitchfork, once happy awarding A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out a 1.5 got busy writing a series of revisionist reviews from young writers redressing the delta. The When We Were Young festival has become a major yearly draw, pitched directly at Millennial nostalgia. Warped Tour’s coming back. Everyone can admit they like Emo now, it’s fine. But this isn’t intended to be a victory lap. Nostalgia can be fun, but it can also be a sugar rush. Some albums are bad, some albums have aged poorly, some deserve to be forgotten. The genre deserves critical analysis, but it can withstand it too. I’m not interested in MySpace photos of you with shitty straightened hair and a bootleg Senses Fail shirt. I want to know about the Fall Out Boy B-side you cried to. The Dashboard Confessional lyrics of your first tattoo. How a musical album about a goth Bonnie and Clyde got you through the worst times of your life, when everything else abandoned you. You were embarrassed of it, now you’re not. Let’s talk about it.Discounts are available for students, the elderly, military, people who work at the mall, service workers, fans and friends of Ron Paul, and true believers in Default Friend. Just email me and I’ll set you up (real btw). You can also just give me the $5:And a final note from Katherine: This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit default.blog/subscribe

Paid subscribers are receiving this a little bit earlier than free subscribers.Katherine reads her Tablet article, “Adam Lanza Fan Art,” a deep dive into the elusive True Crime Community (TCC), a small fandom of mostly adolescents and young adults who treat school shooters and serial killers in the same way other fans might treat boyband members. After the show, in a special Q&A with producer Taylor, Katherine talks about her experiences with hostile people online, why she chose to write about Adam Lanza, and her reflections on her past work and its interpretation in the media. Katherine argues that the fascination with these figures often reflects unresolved adolescent emotions—for better and for worse. P.S. Gio returns soon with an extended discussion about a recent confessional guest post on default.blog.* Read Adam Lanza Fan Art. * Watch Zero Day and RSVP for our in-person discussion or our digital discussion.* Subscribe to The Computer Room. * Listen on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and YouTube.I want to pivot to video but I need a better backdrop. Help me pay Taylor to make this a reality and make MY computer room amenable to such a transition. It’s only $5/month. Discounts are available for students, the elderly, military, people who work at the mall, service workers, fans and friends of Ron Paul, and true believers in Default Friend. Just email me and I’ll set you up (real btw): This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit default.blog/subscribe

In this episode of The Computer Room, Katherine and friends talk about Art Bell's legacy. We meet Leah Prime, who's writing a book about Art Bell, John Steiger who on a mission to hand transcribe every single episode of Coast to Coast AM, and Joseph Matheny, the mind behind Ong's Hat. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit default.blog/subscribe

Katherine and Gio discuss “Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke,” a novella by Eric LaRocca about a complex BDSM relationship between two women that unfolds through emails, forum posts, and instant messages in 2000. They talk about what it meant to “log on” in 2000, lesbian media, and whether online relationships are uniquely suited to BDSM dynamics. Gio also reveals that, somehow, he didn’t know Katie Herzog of BARPod is a lesbian.Help make “number go up” by subscribing: This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit default.blog/subscribe

“The most un-American thing you can do is reject fame.”In a recorded phone call, Katherine and Laura Albert, the writer best known for JT Leroy, explore the fuzzy boundaries of truth and fiction in our digital era. They discuss the telephone as a medium, catfishing, imagination, and lying as a form of storytelling. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit default.blog/subscribe