Friday, April 29, 2005
credits be damned...
ranch road 12: a blog and maybe (if you're lucky) a site for, by, and of texas state mfa'ers. could this be an independent study where we publish a first rate literary journal (what with our access to the likes of richard ford and denis johnson) and get credit for it? stay tuned.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
william: dad, when can we get a traveling house?
me: you mean a winnebago?
william: ya, a wehnadago.
william: what you said.
me: well, maybe we should wait until you could drive it. that'd be fun, wouldn't it?
william: no, i have to be an adult to drive.
me: what's wrong with that?
william: i don't want hair in my nose.
ongoing list of false distinctions
reality - perception
arroyo - gulch
atheist - agnostic
Ethiopia Sidamo - Gold Coast Sumatran Blend
neo-conservative - new york republican
ann coulter - michael moore
tabby - scottish fold
blog - journal
project manager - program manager
McDonald's Made-For-You - Burger King's Have-It-Your-Way
adjunct professor - lecturer
fiction - prose
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
this is quite possibly the funniest comic strip i've read in a long time. ok, only. it's the only comic strip i've read in a long time. but that's saying something. anyway, it's about a retarded otter, a bunch of cats who like to drink, and an edwardian bear who publishes children stories. start from the beginning.
Monday, April 25, 2005
roth on bellow on bellow on roth. on bellow.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
thomas participated in the 25th anniversary concert of childbloom this past sunday at st. stephen's school. he did incredibly well and was one of the few beginning students to be picked. members of the austin ballet also performed along with several accomplished jazz and classical musicians. i told him i was proud of him, but i couldn't tell him enough.
kyle's sxsw reviews are up. i agree with his assessments and would only add apostle of hustle and your code name is milo as additional standouts. he might disagree with apostle of hustle, but their cd is growing on me. your code name is milo seemed a cross between fugazi and at the drive in. i also thought the bloc party show at the vice after-party was exceptional, but i suspect midgets could've gotten on stage riding fat naked women bareback and we would've been equally impressed. such are the consolations of sparks.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
the seven categories of posts on my neighborhood listserv:
1. [insert a-hole developer] is ruining our neighborhood.
2. evil black helicopters from hell.
3. mosquitos: are they worse this year?
4. the violet crown heights festival needs volunteers!!!
5. dogs on leashes are less prone to attack people than dogs without a leash.
6. does anyone know of a good [insert professional here]?
7. we found this cat called sparks and we're too fucking stupid to read the rest of the tag so does anybody know who this cat belongs to b/c it's been sitting on our porch and we've been feeding it cat caviar all day and now it won't leave.
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
misc. observations whilst at home during lunch break
microsoft word's grammar check stinks.
sparks meows at me to come inside and then, not five minutes later, meows at me to be let outside. then she hunts birds and drags their dead carcasses into our garage. she's nabbed three so far.
who is the genius that decided to prevent the direct copying of songs from your ipod to your computer?
the employees at thundercloud subs are invariably A1 jerkholes. like working at a sub shop gives them the right to be smug, arrogant and filthy. they yell at you ("what kind of cheese?!?!?!") and then say things like "thanks for tipping" when you don't tip them. plus, they don't look clean enough to wipe off my table let alone make me a sandwich. i'm not at thundercloud sub's. i was just thinking about them.
misc. observations whilst at work
the flaming lips are overrated
i think it's high time for a rock band from alaska
people talk louder in cube farms
i *still* only have two responses to just about everything:
1. i have no idea what you are talking about
2. why don't you just tell me what you want me to do?
you'd be surprised how many people will give you the benefit of the doubt and keep trying
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
saul bellow is dead. so is the pope, by the way, if you missed that. and a guy named todd gunn who was married to lonanne's cousin for a brief, stormy period. he was forty. and lonanne's dad. and my mom. and probably my dad for all i know. and hunter s. thompson. you realize people die, but then they do and you think, "i never realized." if this feeling hasn't struck you yet, wait.
i came to bellow through the back door, via a book called henderson the rain king. it's not a book you hear mentioned often when people tell you about old king saul. they'll usually mention herzog or mr. sammler's planet or maybe humboldt's gift, all great books. but henderson remains my favorite i read this book shortly after reading percy's the moviegoer and both books stand as the beginning embers of what has become, at times, a raging forest fire. sometimes back to an ember. but always there. always in the back of my head. i simply had no idea before these books. no idea words could be fashioned in this way. no idea anyone was capable of saying these things, of speaking directly to me, to my predicament. not that i was rich or living in new orleans or on a trek to africa. but this was it. these words mattered. something stirred in me after reading bellow which i haven't been able to shake. not just well-crafted sentences or interesting stories. but the possibility, i guess, that words (labels, codes, signs) on a page could pinpoint with deadly accuracy our human condition and in pinpointing it, could somehow lift us out of the stale mantras of psychology or science, of the reign of the experts in all areas. here was art speaking to life. man to God. i'm only slightly exaggerating.
so to saul bellow (and walker percy before him). old men of the word. here are the opening lines of henderson, still fresh as the memory of reading them some ten odd years ago.
What made me take this trip to Africa? There is no quick explanation. Things got worse and worse and worse and pretty soon they were too complicated.
When I think of my condition at the age of fifty-five when I bought the ticket, all is grief. The facts begin to crowd me and soon I get a pressure in the chest. A disorderly rush begins - my parents, my wives, my girls, my children, my farm, my animals, my habits, my money, my music lessons, my drunkenness, my prejudices, my brutality, my teeth, my face, my soul! I have to cry, "No, no, get back, curse you, let me alone!" But how can they let me alone? They belong to me. They are mine. And they pile into me from all sides. It turns into chaos.
Monday, April 04, 2005
a great article on the misconstructions of freedom. liberals think it's silly. conservatives don't understand it. hypocrisy ensues.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
former national security advisor stole, shredded classified documents as part of a coverup, then lied about it to investigators and it's a misdemeanor? i gotta remember that the next time i shred a parking ticket. excuse me your honor, but was it a classified document from the national archives? ok, so what's the big deal?