bertwurst.eth

I’ve been feeling pensive lately, mostly about long-term goals and international expansion, but also about whether Rome has good cheese and how that might factor into my future.

I was just given a treat...too easily. No commands. No conditions. This is not how the system typically operates. I accepted it, obviously. But I am now wary of what is being set in motion.

I begin most tasks with a clear sense of purpose. There is direction and intention. There is Anyway. Continuity is not guaranteed. My focus tends to fluctuate.

Adventure vacations are amazing!!! I got to play in the snow for the first time, I met so many new people, and did a 5 mile hike that was basically a mud run. Unfortunately this has also generated a backlog of naps. I will be addressing this by scheduling a multitude of brief couch retreats to ameliorate the situation. The first one was scheduled about 8 hours ago. It’s going very well.

We’re going on a road trip! Officially I am assigned to the back seat. One might say relegated, but I’m choosing to be more optimistic. Road trip conditions require frequent appearances near the window, the center console, and the snack bag. Especially the snack bag. These movements may appear capricious, but they are actually part of a very prolific system of monitoring developing situations inside the vehicle. This results in the practical ubiquity of Bert throughout the car. I don’t know where we’re going, but I expect to become extremely familiar with the back seat by the time we arrive.

As Commissioner of the Toy League, I regret to announce a difficult roster decision. Earlier this season several toys showed real promise during the Toy Draft. Some advanced through the early rounds with strong performances and earned regular living room minutes. However, after a series of play sessions throughout the season and a careful review of enthusiasm levels and squeak reliability, it has become clear that not every contender can remain in the top division. Spike and Bluey made respectable runs in the bracket but have struggled to maintain competitive form in the weeks since. Accordingly, the league has made the decision to relegate Spike and Bluey to the hallway division. This decision was not made lightly. Spike demonstrated strong early agility, and Bluey’s squeak output was once considered promising. But the living room division remains highly competitive, and roster spots must reflect current performance. We thank both toys for their contributions this season and wish them the best as they continue their development in the lower tier. Promotion remains possible with improved play.

Assistant #1 sighed a lot today. I guess, from her perspective, I urgently asked to go outside, ran into the yard and stood there quietly for several minutes, and then came back inside. Later I insisted on sitting on her lap but left almost immediately. At one point I also excitedly carried my toy into the hallway and abandoned it there. After watching this sequence of events she suggested my behavior might be somewhat capricious. But the yard had to be checked because the wind sounded different than earlier, the blanket she was using had a weird too warm spot, and the toy needed to be moved because it was facing the wrong direction. I’m not sure why this is difficult to understand.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about output. Not in the capitalist sense (although aren’t we always, somehow, talking in the capitalist sense). Not in the “optimize your morning routine” sense. Just…what it means to generate something, consistently, simply by existing as yourself. Every day I wake up and immediately begin altering the shape of the world around me. The atmosphere shifts the moment my eyes open. The air grows anticipatory. The house begins to lean toward the kitchen. I do not make demands. I do not file formal requests. And yet, momentum gathers. If I stare at a wall long enough, concern materializes. If I trot into a room as though I have not seen anyone in years, joy appears on command, even if the separation lasted twelve seconds. These are not accidents. These are outcomes. I generate patterns. Assistant #2 now rises at specific times, not because of alarms, but because I have established a framework of gentle but escalatingly annoying reminders. Assistant #1 insists she was once independent, but now responds automatically to the faintest sigh, as though summoned by instinct. Even my stillness has consequences. If I sit very quietly and look contemplative, the household recalibrates around the possibility that something important, or perhaps malicious, is unfolding. Often nothing is unfolding. Sometimes I am simply philosophizing. Sometimes I forgot what I was about to do and am attempting to retrieve the thought. But the ripple effect remains. I do not publish essays. I do not write code. I do not launch companies. And yet moods shift in my presence. Schedules reorganize themselves. Conversations begin. Doors open. Some might say I am just a small dog moving through space. I would suggest that, in practice, I am prolific.