speak crazy to power

Made me think of the Libertarian.

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kosmos

Our contemplations...stir us. There is...a faint sensation, as if a distant memory of falling from a great height. We know we are approaching the grandest of mysteries... We wish to pursue the truth no matter where it leads. But to find the truth we need imagination and skepticism both. We will not be afraid to speculate, but we will be careful to distinguish speculation from fact. The cosmos is full beyond measure of elegant truths, of exquisite interrelationships, of the awesome machinery of nature.

-Carl Sagan

Gentleman Jack sits quietly inside, recalling that Merlin has been idle

The opening of my section two of the manuscript:

Never any further than a door. A window with meticulously wiped interior, exterior collecting dust, insects, fingerprints, water-stains, high velocity eggs. A bed collecting memories, obscure internal dialogs, and crisp photographs of distant quasars.

The door, unlocked, may be used to enter, but quitting the room is another matter. Permissions must be granted. Approval is difficult to come by. Water still runs from the tap and periodically refills the toilet. Newspapers gather at the foot of the recliner. The stories on their pages were set in type and plated many ages ago, perhaps even at the beginning of all things. Joylessness may be imagined, but in truth holds no meaning--stillness also may be indicative of freedom from desire or trepidation, of deliberation, or (why presume the lofty) that someone has been smuggling horse tranquilizers to your beloved mentor.

Through the mess of a window you have seen him frying up a tube of sausages. He spends days in front of the television, nearly motionless. Has he been using his magical powers to pay the utilities? His prophetic visions to determine the solutions to tomorrow's daily jumble?

It would be good, you surmise, to free him from this drudgery, but--it will occur to you--into what?

My New Site

It won't replace this one. Go visit it and be creeped out. Add a suggestion. And thank Kevin for the idea.

Various Death

And for those who disliked my Bachelard quote in the manuscript

"It is as though Baudelaire knew of nothing to shut himself in with but curtains."



It seems "for those..." just means "for Laura." Is this a better quote?

for those tired of being a creepy child

Spring is finally poking its cute little Japanese cartoon head out from the snow-clouds. It was shorts weather today and I finally got my bike fixed (shorts weather means it was mid-forties or so) so I went for a ride around town, did some people-watching, and found a beautiful shrine and temple with a cemetery. Strolling through, I found myself a bit anxious. I hadn't locked my bike at the entrance. I could read the signs phonetically, but still had little clue what they meant, so I wasn't sure if I was allowed in or not. I had gone in anyway, but I often find myself a little anxious that I am doing something offensive, just because I don't know the etiquette. I resolved a while ago to be a bit more adventurous once the weather approved, but now I find that I am not used to venturing on my own.

I didn't take a camera with me because I wanted what I saw today to be solely mine, difficult to recall later, only appearing in flashes when the air is just right. Every time the weather changes, I begin to recall. The first truly warm day takes me to San Antonio, 1997. A Sunday afternoon touch football game with the Oak Hills folks at Marshall. Chris Pruski punched Jeremy Karney in the throat instead of tagging him. Bret Halbert was a force of nature, as always, on the line. Tiffany Potter and I sat on the hood of my black RX-7, and then danced in the parking lot to some song I had playing.

I've been editing stories. I'll be sending five or so off for rejection soon. It's been a long time for me with the trying to publish thing. Hopefully I'll get in the habit, but don't anybody hold your breath on that front. Editing and submitting seems to only occur during a kind of manic phase I go through in my compulsive writing behavior.

I'm completely not caught up on the basketball happenings in the U.S. I hear the Lakers look dangerous, and that the Celts are as expected. And SA fans are as deluded as ever about their aging team's chances... though I do hope as well. But I have seen nothing. Baseball just started here. I think I'll go to a game. We'll see. There's a team in Sendai that hasn't been very good, but they apparently just picked up a few good hitters and a superstar pitcher.

Coffee.

we are all buddha's creepy children