10pm and on. Emptying glasses again. Stories of former houses in familiar cities, to a point where no one knows for sure whether the place actually existed. With so many data virtually captured forever, it's tough to imagine information still can escape these records in between. (There are some more obvious ways to address this problem, but for none of them, expected outcome justifies effort. Maybe it doesn't matter that much after all.)
Zwischenzeitlich unterwegs, indifferentes Licht, grau wie der Asphalt, der Beton. Windig sollte dieser Tag werden. Hier, um an vertrauten Türen zu klingeln, auf fremde Gesichter treffen, mit den gewohnten Namen nicht weiterkommen über die eigenen Unsicherheiten stolpern. Ein kurzer Spaziergang um den Block, von Veränderungen berührt und kurz überwältigt. Weitere Teile eigener Erinnerungen werden blass. Man verfällt schließlich in gewohnte Rituale: Pflaumenkuchen neben der Tastatur. Wasser, gegen die Nervosität des Koffeins und die kratzige Stimme. Repetitive Vorgänge. Und das Zeitraubende an Details, die schlussendlich wichtig sein könnten. Zumindest kurzfristig.
From the "odd ways to fill your spare time" department: Reviving Netscape(R) Composer(R) in contemporary internet. Which feels like unearthing, respawning something horrible. Too: HoTMeTaL, anyone...? Interesting read nevertheless:
As a geek born in the early 1990s, who has been playing with computers from a young age, I think fondly of what tech looked like in the late 1990s and early 2000s.
So, naturally, when I got my hands on an old computer a few months ago, I installed Windows 98 on it as a way to revive software from my childhood and play around with it. Among the gems I wanted to revisit was Netscape Communicator, a software suite from 1997 centered around Netscape Navigator, which was the first web browser I ever used. One of the other applications included in that suite was a WYSIWYG web page editor named Netscape Composer.
https://plbrault.com/blog-posts/i-used-netscape-composer-in-2024-en/