December 2011
1 post
Pat Jordache--Get It (I Know You're Going To) →
Wednesday, 14 December 2011
The Aural Odd
November 2011
1 post
Just a little set .
January 2011
1 post
Summer. Spring Street.
The room is small and engulfed in a deep secretive sweat. A motherly sweat. Humid, marshy. An open womb, receptive but not conceptive. Nothing could be born here save what has already been born andlost. Her room: a splitting off of then and now. Hers, the little room with the little window, overlooking Spring Street.
I am looking for a box, cardboard and weathered, ravaged by years of being...
December 2010
1 post
Little Winds
He woke. A slight sweat as the slight draught crept up the slight stairwell of the little attic hallway where she, the little wind and he, slept—z after z, grin and grin—night after night and into day.
He had dreamt that she, the little wind, had fallen. Fallen down where the little stairwell crept a little on its own—creaked a little, weakened a little more than its own Victorian...
August 2009
1 post
April 2009
4 posts
WatchAmazing
February 2009
3 posts
Sad Temples
And in these, our sad temples to sad fathers and mothers and sons long lost, we sit in chairs half-contemplating, half-forgetting, both past and pasts’ future—all borne on the backs of glass and ice and lies and three draughts beyond our pay.
And this then is our oracle.
Well this is Tall Hands! →
Overheard...head first
“It’s not the pasta dammit! It’s your incessant prattling about D.B. White for chrissakes!”
“E.B. E.B. White. And it’s not prattle. It’s the elements of fucking style.”
“Says who? I mean Jesus, you’re sitting there telling me about this and that and that and this and it doesn’t mean a fucking thing, Joel. Style is the only...
December 2008
7 posts
Monkey jockeys riding dogs - Boing Boing →
How is it that rationalization leads to the furor of power?
Caved Aged Baby Cheesus
dood…I was discussing with my roommates that we should have a baby jesus cheese mold for our christmas party.
I thought I was a genius.
I hate reality.
Of Months Past, a Letter to a Friend
“Of Proust again, “My hand trembles so as I write to you.” This, certainly, was not the message I had hoped to deliver in the past. It is not, unfortunately, that great all-important piece of correspondence that may alter the universal flow, but it is something, I feel. It is a sort of promissory note, a vindicated assertion to continue to grow and...
A Nod to Efficiency
Behold, the Cafetorium. This, perhaps, is one of the most interesting concepts of corporate design. For ninety-nine percent of your existence the Cafetorium serves its purpose as cafeteria. You go in, purchase a diet soda from the vending machine—if your dollar bill is flat enough—and take your seat among people you really do not wish to share your lunch hour with.
As you eat your...
The Accountant
In the accountant’s office is an old rusty flat-iron. The accountant, who works without end and sleeps on a cot in the corner of his office, is a fat man. The fat man’s name is Bruce Hempel.
The flat-iron in the fat accountant’s cotted office is a mystery. He has no hair—anywhere. In the morning, when the junior accountant, a thin, hairy man—older than Mr. Hempel but...
November 2008
58 posts
Teen commits suicide live on Justin.tv →
aja:
Abraham K. Biggs, 19 from Florida committed suicide live on Justin.tv Wednesday after being encouraged by viewers to do so.
The story as best we can follow it is that Biggs threatened to overdose on pills live on Justin.tv on a bodybuilding forum at bodybuilding.com. According to eyewitness reports, moderators didn’t believe him, and other users either on bodybuilding.com, Justin.tv or...
Cookie Day.
Cookie Day is like Casual Friday without this:
And that’s why I smile on Cookie Day.
Also, you get to watch the secretary always on a “diet” debate the pros and cons of “maybe just one.”
AND ALSO, NO ONE says: “Hey, guess what day it is…FRIDAY!” I mean, obviously, they know what day it is, they’ve got huge fucking calendars all over the...
Flash Me Some Dramaturgy...
I was, to be honest, quite fascinated by all the flash mob activity back in the day. It seemed all a very wonderful concept however shoddily it was inevitably carried out.
The idea seemed so rife with spectacle and roots in situationism but was, for the most part, unsuccessful (in my mind).
That said, a friend and I tossed around a few ideas the other night that may very well explode some...
1 tag
Survivalism →
This goes out to a little band called Sweaters.
Occupational Discourse
Tuesdays are by far the worst days, correct? But, on the same token, I tend to show up to work a good 30 minutes early on Tuesdays (and Fridays, for that matter). Why? Because my internet rarely works at home and huddling over the wifi receiver on the toilet is not only annoying but also slightly embarrassing. And, it makes me out to be a real jerk.
“What’re you doing in there?”...
1 tag
Sapperstein
Eyes are ice on this guy sitting across from me; hands knotted perfectly. In fact, his entire body is so perfectly perfect in its relationship to mine that he is, essentially, a nonbeing. His body-language nonexistant thus, he, teeters on the brink of obscurity. Shadows splash his right cheek. Bogey, I think. Yes, Bogart in the Maltese Falcon this guy, here. His face seems unflinching even when he...
2 tags
“The Rev. Jay Scott Newman said in a letter distributed Sunday to parishioners at...”
– -HuffPost
A query and an observation
I need to know something: What’s with all the old Korean men asleep in their vehicles (for the most part unmarked livery) every afternoon lined up along Kingsley Drive? My conspiracy theorist side thinks that it may be related to this:
http://www.humantrafficking.org/updates/468
But then again, I doubt that is the case. They are way too friendly.
Any thoughts? Surely, some of you have...
3 tags
“Every Monday morning Wölfli is given a new pencil and two large sheets of...”
– http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adolf_Wolfli
3 tags
2 tags
The Daily Monologue
A small stage, a packed house, a fat man in a fat man’s suit all shiny and dapper and woo wee…
He clears his throat and then:
“Idiocy of this life is what keeps me going, y’know? All the times we step back and seriously question what it is we are doing then—I mean, what else can we do, right?—then, we return to the fray a minute later. Indecision marks the...
Jesus
Jesus leaves a cardboard taste in your mouth. Jesus tries to get you drunk. Jesus teases you.
“Just one sip of me,” Jesus says.
You think Jesus is boring and why why why did mom make you hang out with him for all those years?
Such is the sickness...
“Such is the sickness of many a good thing that now into my life from long ago this refusing to say I love you has bound the weeping, the yielding, the yearning to be taken again, into a knot, a waiting, a string so taut it taunts the song, it resists the touch. It grows dark to draw down the lover’s hand from its lightness to what’s underground.”
-R. Duncan
Once
You were once my child but you will not remember this. You can not remember this in the same way that I can not remember your children, or your children’s children or the parents I once knew. Time has taken as time has given.
You were once my child and my recollection of you, there, at the window reflecting me, reading Lorca. You were my child there and I sat behind you, watching, reading...