Monday, May 29, 2006

uneasy comparison

i am king pellinore, and you are my beast glatisant. i try to live my life sanely and regularly, and then you appear mistily and mythically, and there i go. off on a quest that has no end. following after the traces of your fewmets, always a bit too late...

Thursday, May 25, 2006

yeah. insecurity's a bitch.

here's a more poetic way of saying the above, from the gift, by hafiz, and translated by daniel ladinsky. the title of this particular poem is "the mismatched newlyweds." (but i don't know that i'd call it the title exactly, more like a descriptor...)


A pair

Of mismatched newlyweds,

One of whom still feels very insecure,

I keep turning to God




i like hafiz. truth shines through.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

fact 'n' fiction

the new whipping boy is of course, the da vinci code movie. someone remind me if there was this much controversy with jurassic park... h'mmm, wait, jurassic park was basically a biology/ecology book, while da vinci is apparently religiously based... never mind, now i understand.

this article actually makes comments on the errors in the book. well. as someone reminded me the other day, the book (thus movie) is actually fiction. as in, it's not a true story. why be surprised then if there are errors? point of fact, those aren't errors, those are literary devices, evidences of artistic license.

why then are folks getting so het up over fiction? i think it's a knee-jerk reaction. when i first read the book, i thought how ridiculous. the second time i read it, i thought, interesting concept, but i don't believe it. even i, for a moment, treated this piece of mind candy with the same amount of... respect, as i gave to eunuchs for the kingdom, an actual piece of scholarly work. shame shame shame on me!

i'd like to blame dan brown, his publisher, and his publicist. but it's not their fault that i (and others) suspended our x-factor for longer than we should.

Thursday, May 11, 2006


i'm coming to believe that mornings (not mondays) suck. i don't think i've felt well in the mornings for at least a month. pisses me off actually. but in a weak, vague sort of way. i rather hate it, but can't pull together enough energy to be viciously (<--that word looks strangely foreign this morning), vituperative.

but anyhow, y'all folks that read my blog, go out and support stephin merritt by buying his albums. better yet, write him tons of fan letters. and shun both sasha frere-jones (of the new yorker magazine) and jessica hopper (of the chicago reader, a music contributor). shun them publically and write letters of disgust over their irresponsible conduct to their editors. it's time we got back to journalistic integrity! <--and as a result of that lone exclamation mark, i now have no more energy. *sigh* but with the last dregs i'll post the link for the article that has curdled my stomach even more than it is already curdled. tmi, i know. sorry, sorry.

oh yeah, btw, journalistic integrity... isn't that an oxymoron? *weakly laughing*

Wednesday, May 03, 2006


is all i have to say after reading this.'s not like i think things will change though. my cynicism is too deeply ingrained for that. however i am a bit horrified that we as a country, a supposedly democratic & God-fearing country, are still killing folks. and yes i realize the irony in what i just said.

but. i have the solution. hit the inmate with a 2x4 across the back of the head, a good hit, knock him/her right out. and then give the injection. or even better, hit 'em the first time hard enough to kill. alternatively, because that might disturb the viewers, give 'em enough of the anesthesia to stop their heart. a third alternative, find another solution in lieu of killing folk. yea, you, the reader are laughing at me. that's okay, i'm laughing at me too. and you're right, that last option, that's crazy talk.

Monday, May 01, 2006


"Earth bears no balsam for mistakes;
Men crown the knave, and scourge the tool
That did his will; but Thou, O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool."

check out the rest here.

written by Edward Rowland Sill, it's one of my favorite poems...