DAC '99 Technical Notes
There are still a few bugs in the system at Georgia Tech
Friday, 2:30 p.m.
I am sitting in the conference room where Professor Rabyd will be explaining
his psychedelic hypertext novel, Sunshine 69.
I just smoked a cigarette with Tim Ryder from Melbourne, who, last night,
led Scott and I on a drunken taxiride into
purgatory. I awoke at noon, the conference in session, I unregistered,
the glass table in the hotel room shattered, cigarette butts trampled
on the balcony.
At this point, I am registered but still unsure why I'm here or what
I hope to learn or achieve, beyond giving what will hopefully be a
reading. In the context of what I've seen so far, a fresh breath of
art—practice undiluted by theory—will be successful,
I am proving so far unconfident and inept in the face of meeting interesting
people. The conference is, however, crawling with interesting people
many countries. As I walk among them and allow them to observe my name
tag they will all silently note that I am someone they have never
of from a part of America they have never heard of from a school they
have never heard of, a school which helped make the Web possible by
introducing the prototype web browser Mosaic.
The session is in session.
William and Scott talk to the Marriott Bartender 4: Volleyball
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