"That which is overdesigned, too highly specific, anticipates outcome; the anticipation of outcome guarantees, if not failure, the absence of grace."
-- William Gibson, All Tomorrow's Parties
Return of William Gibson Day.

I am really tired, and must sleep, but here is a brief, brief overview:

Cronin, Walt and I showed up to the Library around 1700. They closed it down until 1815, so we sat outside and watched the pretty girls go by (I hate summer, but I like pretty girls; cursed am I). Cronin also attempted to lure the disgusting city pigeons into attacking me via strategically placed pieces of Wawa hoagie, but failed miserably.

Then it was time for the awesome.

<@bda> Gibson Is A Prophet
<@bda> Adam Is Froody
<@bda> So because we think it's hilarious that Adam gives his biz cards to William Gibson, I gave him another of Adam's cards tonight.
<@_Lasar> hahah
<@bda> "A buddy of mine keeps giving these to you whenever he sees you, so we figured we'd continue the tradition in whatever city you happen to be in."
<@_Lasar> :)
<@bda> The first link makes it far less funny, and much more awesome.
<@bda> But Gibson remembered, and laughed, and said:
<@bda> "That's fine, but it makes me wonder if he's a distributed entity."

Though I am positive I said something far, far less coherent than that. He also looked incredibly tired (considering his signing schedule, and the ridiculous things that it incurs, who can blame him). Questions this trip were surprisingly sparse, not that I ever have anything to ask one of my favorite authors when I have the ability to do so. I remember last time he was here, lots of people were up for it, though. Kinda odd. Maybe everyone was just keying off his obvious exhaustion?

Also, my brain went into total Fanboy Glee Mode after his response, so I just sort of stumbled off, giggling.

After the signing, Cronin, Hunter, Faith and I went to Vietnam Palace for some tasty food and to catch up on the last few years. It was good seeing them again. :-)

On my way home, I was waiting to catch a cab and some suburbanite hipster kids were failing to hail one as well. Failing like they kept running back and forth across Market St., whenever they saw one. I mostly ignored them and talked on my cell. Finally I managed to get a cab, not noticing the kids running across the street to... cabjack me?

I figured, whatever, there's four of them, and they are obviously unused to how this works. I will be a nice guy. As I am holding the door for one of the girls, one of the guys gets all puffed up and starts to call me a douche, or a dick.

I let out a mighty "Ay, yo!" with the full intention of smacking him around (for whatever it would be worth, he was younger than me and it is impossible for me to be in worse shape, physically, without actually being made of donuts), but his buddy... held him back? Or something?

The whole situation was resolved amicably once the (drunk?) kids realized, oh, you are being nice and letting us have your cab, while we are too incompentant to get one.

It just makes me feel like a real Philadelphian though: "Ay, yo!" to shut someone up, perhaps precipitating a bout of violence, and then a random act of charity.

"Hey sorry about--" "Yo, no worries. You and me. We're cool. You have a good night now."

Then two seconds later I caught another cab.

People, eh?

Pete came home after I got back, and we sat around talking about uh, lots of weird random things (books, politics, I failed to explain even the most basic aspects of quantum physics, more books), which was pretty entertaining.

Now I must sleep. Before the doom.

August 17, 2007 4:09 AM