blog
life stream
subscribeFriday, May 30
I could write a million words here about the way the ground used to swallow me up and comfort me on the catastrophic days, but that's not the way things are. I could write about saying goodbye or lonely cities and schizophrenic music. But it's disingenuous. And I suppose I must have changed. I would pull everything together if I could. I would bring it, rushing, towards the center, with hurricane force winds and clouds of disaster. That is, if disaster was on my mind. But I can't even try to understand and piece it into the puzzle. I guess there is no puzzle. There is only the goodbye hanging in the air. Perpetually. And if the ground fails to swallow me up I'll just lift it up and contemplate the weight and feathered lightness of the summer sky.
Wednesday, May 28
Indiana Jones IV Review, via Jeff
Monday, May 19
I don't do show reviews (Jeff does that, and better than TV Guide anyway), but you should be watching "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia." The NYTimes thinks so. And the news media in this country is never wrong. Or, well, rarely. And usually when they get things wrong it's about something more important than TV.
While I am ranting and being random, you might also want to check out the opposite end of the television spectrum as well and partake in PBS's American Experience on President Bush, Sr. While trying to avoid sounding review-ish, I'll just say it was super interesting. Another feature 'Bush's War' about his son's administration was even more interesting and works well as a crash course in recent American political history.
While I am ranting and being random, you might also want to check out the opposite end of the television spectrum as well and partake in PBS's American Experience on President Bush, Sr. While trying to avoid sounding review-ish, I'll just say it was super interesting. Another feature 'Bush's War' about his son's administration was even more interesting and works well as a crash course in recent American political history.
Quote of the Day: Philip K. Dick edition
"Whom the gods notice they destroy. Be small...and you will escape the jealousy of the great."
To differ
Monday, May 12
He stood in the street, an executive in a shade of grey, awakening from an empty horror
He hung his head, expecting the pounding and blood to spill uphill toward his temple
Instead a silence separate from the surrounding distractions welled within and He grew
He shed his mind's self referential image
Dying a thousand death, He paid it no mind
Heavy and cast off, as a cryptid awakening to
An unbelieving world, He took wing
Though unable to stop the flow of rivers
The Mokele-mbembe was reborn
And He found paper, sat down, lifted his chin to the sky, and then wrote these words:
It's no use
I am
And I love
And it's still no use
Today I choose to be free
He hung his head, expecting the pounding and blood to spill uphill toward his temple
Instead a silence separate from the surrounding distractions welled within and He grew
He shed his mind's self referential image
Dying a thousand death, He paid it no mind
Heavy and cast off, as a cryptid awakening to
An unbelieving world, He took wing
Though unable to stop the flow of rivers
The Mokele-mbembe was reborn
And He found paper, sat down, lifted his chin to the sky, and then wrote these words:
It's no use
I am
And I love
And it's still no use
Today I choose to be free
on understanding
Monday, May 5
content and context, window dressing, who needs
everything, we all need, we all do, the
pictures of animals and toys all in bright
colors exploding in my brain
competing needs, competing teams, but we also
had much more I believe and that's still true, a tandem in
our hands not under our feet, especially and especially
and especially raw, poetic
brass notes on high, to hold, on to the bend
break, on water on all wonder
and attraction, sinking soft briefly spoken
dream traps, conversely, upon this, you awaken
everything, we all need, we all do, the
pictures of animals and toys all in bright
colors exploding in my brain
competing needs, competing teams, but we also
had much more I believe and that's still true, a tandem in
our hands not under our feet, especially and especially
and especially raw, poetic
brass notes on high, to hold, on to the bend
break, on water on all wonder
and attraction, sinking soft briefly spoken
dream traps, conversely, upon this, you awaken
