Saturday, May 03, 2003
We are all America's heroes in chrysalis. Hatch.
"It's like a diptych of truth and illusion: one half Norman Rockwell, the other Hieronymus Bosch. We are handed the Rockwell yet we perceive the Bosch. I doubt the American imagination can exceed the reality of its victims who are now enjoying that nightmare made flesh. So we are told to cling to the Rockwell, that it might come to pass.
But look at history - look at Art History! Rockwell was exploded by Pollock, his tidy lines and white picket fences blown to scribble and elliptical spatter; he exists now in an old folks' home like a delusional uncle.
The dream cannot be sustained because it is without truth: Vodka doesn't make you handsome and guns don't make you stay hard longer. You kiss as good as you kiss. In the end we are naked and pimply and sometimes hot."
- Blake Schwarzenbach, from an anti-war speech entitled "SEE HOW WE ARE," given Thursday, March 27 at Washington Square Park in New York City. Go here for the whole thing.
On her LiveJournal, spentpenny, who, by the way, fucking rocks, has posted an amazing poem by John Amen called poem that fell out when i pulled a thread. GO!
Today, Double Agent got married. The thing I like best about her is that she shares all her social events, encouraging people to go and join her. I think that's really nice. (Credit where credit is due: zenbetty does that, too, and it really makes a guy feel liked.) Anyway, congratulations to her and Matt. Also, if you like her blog, she's got at least three other websites out there for you enjoy. (That's another thing she shares in common with zenbetty: lots of rest stops on the information superhighway.)
For no good reason, I've been listening to Pedro the Lion's song "Rapture" nonstop. I've had it on a comp for over a year, and I just fell in love with it on Friday. It's beautiful, and it's about doin' it!
"I love heavy metal, but the audience is as dumb, strong, and ugly as bison."
Now, hardcore kids, on the other hand, are cute and stylin'! The biggest difference between the metal I listen to and the hardcore I listen to is the audience. The music is pretty much the same. I went to a show on Wednesday, and that was the impression I walked away with. And that I can't look at girls at Emo's, because they're too young.
Conversations with My Dog:
[pppt!]
BigSleep666: Did you just fart?
SmallDog666: Probably.
I like the idea of being a jogger more than I like jogging. There's a romance and beauty to the long distance runner that I lack when I go my relative long distance, trying to convince my body to just make it to the next block, and then lie by pushing myself further. And then it starts to rain.
My day in a nutshell:
1. Went for jog. Didn't do so good.
2. Got a haircut. Look real cute.
3. Had a relapse at the comic book store. Don't want to talk about it.
4. Went to a wedding. Got some bubbles.
My day in a haiku:
Jogged. It hurt. Haircut
Looks good. Comics expensive.
Wedding bubbles.
...
"You kiss as good as you kiss."
"It's like a diptych of truth and illusion: one half Norman Rockwell, the other Hieronymus Bosch. We are handed the Rockwell yet we perceive the Bosch. I doubt the American imagination can exceed the reality of its victims who are now enjoying that nightmare made flesh. So we are told to cling to the Rockwell, that it might come to pass.
But look at history - look at Art History! Rockwell was exploded by Pollock, his tidy lines and white picket fences blown to scribble and elliptical spatter; he exists now in an old folks' home like a delusional uncle.
The dream cannot be sustained because it is without truth: Vodka doesn't make you handsome and guns don't make you stay hard longer. You kiss as good as you kiss. In the end we are naked and pimply and sometimes hot."
- Blake Schwarzenbach, from an anti-war speech entitled "SEE HOW WE ARE," given Thursday, March 27 at Washington Square Park in New York City. Go here for the whole thing.
On her LiveJournal, spentpenny, who, by the way, fucking rocks, has posted an amazing poem by John Amen called poem that fell out when i pulled a thread. GO!
Today, Double Agent got married. The thing I like best about her is that she shares all her social events, encouraging people to go and join her. I think that's really nice. (Credit where credit is due: zenbetty does that, too, and it really makes a guy feel liked.) Anyway, congratulations to her and Matt. Also, if you like her blog, she's got at least three other websites out there for you enjoy. (That's another thing she shares in common with zenbetty: lots of rest stops on the information superhighway.)
For no good reason, I've been listening to Pedro the Lion's song "Rapture" nonstop. I've had it on a comp for over a year, and I just fell in love with it on Friday. It's beautiful, and it's about doin' it!
"I love heavy metal, but the audience is as dumb, strong, and ugly as bison."
Now, hardcore kids, on the other hand, are cute and stylin'! The biggest difference between the metal I listen to and the hardcore I listen to is the audience. The music is pretty much the same. I went to a show on Wednesday, and that was the impression I walked away with. And that I can't look at girls at Emo's, because they're too young.
Conversations with My Dog:
[pppt!]
BigSleep666: Did you just fart?
SmallDog666: Probably.
I like the idea of being a jogger more than I like jogging. There's a romance and beauty to the long distance runner that I lack when I go my relative long distance, trying to convince my body to just make it to the next block, and then lie by pushing myself further. And then it starts to rain.
My day in a nutshell:
1. Went for jog. Didn't do so good.
2. Got a haircut. Look real cute.
3. Had a relapse at the comic book store. Don't want to talk about it.
4. Went to a wedding. Got some bubbles.
My day in a haiku:
Jogged. It hurt. Haircut
Looks good. Comics expensive.
Wedding bubbles.
...
"You kiss as good as you kiss."
Labels: haiku
Wednesday, April 30, 2003
...
Tuesday, April 29, 2003
Sometimes, monumentally bad things happen to the very best people, and it reminds you just how dispersed all your loved ones are. A different state. A different time zone. A different climate. And you'd like to trade all the ones and zeros in the world for a firm handshake, a warm smile, and a shared tear.
If Verdana could hug, this sentence would wrap itself around you.
I love you.
If Verdana could hug, this sentence would wrap itself around you.
I love you.
Monday, April 28, 2003
"...
"And your tattoos look like shit!"
I love heavy metal, but the audience is as dumb, strong, and ugly as bison. I was at a show last night, watching big, stupid men collide into each other and caught myself thinking "This is totally inappropriate behavior!"
When I grow up, I want to be Atticus Finch.
(Today, coincidentally, is Harper Lee's birthday. She's 77! Happy birthday, Ms. Lee!)
As an ethnic group, there's something unfortunate about the word Slav that just doesn't hold up to the word Celt. Or the word Assbag, for that matter.
Brief Descriptions of My Friends, Part 4
I have a friend in Brooklyn named Kevin. Kevin and I have been close friends for close to ten years and we've never lived in the same town. Like me, Kevin knows the stigma of growing up in New Jersey, and has the strength to refuse to be ashamed of it. Like strippers get paid for being hot, Kevin gets paid for being funny (the analogy works, because neither are particularly well-off). Chances are likely that Kevin is a lot funnier than you are. I find myself quoting him pretty regularly, and I never give him credit, which means chances are likely that I'm a lot funnier than you are, too (and that I can't be trusted). True story: Kevin and I first clicked when we were in a waiting room full of teenagers vying for admittance into a writing program and I said that the scenario reminded me of a Higgins Boys and Gruber sketch, and he was the only one who got that reference. To this day, I still remember the gleam in his eyes. He runs a popular film festival in New York called Video Vaudeville, so go and tell him I sent you! Kevin's married to a brilliant woman named Rebecca, who is a dedicated NYC public school teacher, which means she's a saint. On bad days, Kevin is the first phone call I make.
"And your tattoos look like shit!"
I love heavy metal, but the audience is as dumb, strong, and ugly as bison. I was at a show last night, watching big, stupid men collide into each other and caught myself thinking "This is totally inappropriate behavior!"
When I grow up, I want to be Atticus Finch.
(Today, coincidentally, is Harper Lee's birthday. She's 77! Happy birthday, Ms. Lee!)
As an ethnic group, there's something unfortunate about the word Slav that just doesn't hold up to the word Celt. Or the word Assbag, for that matter.
Brief Descriptions of My Friends, Part 4
I have a friend in Brooklyn named Kevin. Kevin and I have been close friends for close to ten years and we've never lived in the same town. Like me, Kevin knows the stigma of growing up in New Jersey, and has the strength to refuse to be ashamed of it. Like strippers get paid for being hot, Kevin gets paid for being funny (the analogy works, because neither are particularly well-off). Chances are likely that Kevin is a lot funnier than you are. I find myself quoting him pretty regularly, and I never give him credit, which means chances are likely that I'm a lot funnier than you are, too (and that I can't be trusted). True story: Kevin and I first clicked when we were in a waiting room full of teenagers vying for admittance into a writing program and I said that the scenario reminded me of a Higgins Boys and Gruber sketch, and he was the only one who got that reference. To this day, I still remember the gleam in his eyes. He runs a popular film festival in New York called Video Vaudeville, so go and tell him I sent you! Kevin's married to a brilliant woman named Rebecca, who is a dedicated NYC public school teacher, which means she's a saint. On bad days, Kevin is the first phone call I make.
