the facts, ma'am (and precious few of those..) I was born in 1947
and since 2009 have been a widower after a marriage of 36 years.
I have two sons, two granddaughters, and a grandson.
I came to Fractals by a path so circuitous
and unlikely that it illustrates either absolute randomness or
the Hand of God. You pick. Before that I was an amateur herpetologist,
rock-'n-roll musician, and editor/publisher/chief contributor
to a newsletter that did its part to remold this world closer
to the heart's desire (or at least hit the brakes on some trips
in the wrong direction...).
And since none of that is very remunerative,
I also ran a very small business. One expects roadblocks in such:
but entirely too many of them were furnished by our government.
Those who may wonder at opinions expressed elsewhere in this site
would do well to remember that fact.
I have crossed this country by thumb,
seen where it all began in Greece, walked in the footsteps of
my Lord in Jerusalem, and survived the sixties with no permanent
brain damage beyond an affinity for the work of J.S. Bach and
My attitude toward the Internet is the
same as to life in general: come as you are and do what you can.
To place unnecessary barriers in people's way is too close to
what the Bible condemns as "grieving the Holy Spirit."
I don't believe in intricate homepages that can't be easily loaded
or read on older equipment. I don't believe in giant OS makers
disabling functionalities in their new versions and then eliminating
them entirely. I don't believe in giant Internet portals that
mix their social agenda with their supposedly objective news coverage.
I don't believe in whatever forces have turned the monitor into
a movie screen when most people use it like a book or newspaper.
I don't believe in tracking, data mining, country firewalls, evercookies
or packet sniffing.
And for that matter I don't believe in
continually taking from the Internet and never giving anything
About the name of my site: Schlaraffenland,
in German folklore, is a topsy-turvy place where everything is
inverted, mixed-up, and/or time-reversed. It's a psychogeographic
province in the general vicinity of the Big Rock Candy Mountain
and the francophone Kingdom of Cockaigne: best reached today through
the Land of Nod, though I understand that tickets to purported
alternate routes are being sold on streetcorners and other places.
Well, the hen has crowed, so this tale
is all told out. Cock-a-doodle-doo!