Origins pt. 11

I grew up in a meat house. A week's menu would likely include fried chicken, meatloaf, hamburgers, roast beef, roast pork and spaghetti with meat sauce. No one made me eat my vegetables, so I didn't. For as long as I could remember New Years Eve was the apex of carnivorous behavior. All afternoon my mom would be cutting up steak into little cubes and making various sauces. As dusk fell, and my dad arrived home weary from another pointless day at the office, she would get out the avaocado green electric fondue pot (a wedding gift from 72) and begin heating vegetable oil. Once it was boiling we'd all gather round the table with our long, color coded forks (many an argument with my brother over who got red), and spear chunks of steak and dip them in the bubbling fat until they were brown enough to eat. This was a slow process, and dinner would stretch on for at least an hour and a half. Finally, after 30 or 4o pieces of deep fried beef I'd be full. We'd retire to the living room and watch movies until shortly before midnight when we'd tune in for the ball to drop. The kids would always get a cup of ginger ale for the toast. This went on until I was in 10th grade. That year I had a friend sleep over. He joined us for the weird flesh meal. By the next year I was completely immersed in my gone generation lifestyle and rang in the new year in the banging bass and day-glo of a Laurel, Maryland warehouse (at 11:58 the d.j. on the platform yelling out to a thousand of us "Just two more minutes mother fuckers!").

Origins pt. 10

In December of 1989 I began an art class flirtation with a beautiful Cambodian girl named Thy (she actually did model). We sat together, drew together, and molded clay together. On a Thursday afternoon shortly before Christmas she came to me as fourth period was about to start and asked me to skip class with her. I had never done anything like that before. We snuck off the high school campus and walked up Burke Lake Road to the King's Park Shopping Center bundled up against the cold. A few times she took my hand in her gloved grip. I was on top of the world, rebelling and falling in love at the same time. She took me to a Chinese restaurant where she knew the employees and spoke to them in whatever the language of Cambodia is. I had never eaten Chinese before and was too finicky to try it so I watched her eat noodle soup before we headed back to catch our buses. The next day I was in pre-algebra watching the clock waiting for Winter break to begin. She walked into my classroom and whispered something to my teacher. Ms. Weaver called out that I was needed in the office, and I followed Thy into the hallway. She wasn't even an office assistant. She was sucking on a candy cane and said "I just wanted to give you a Christmas card before we left, and this...", and she quickly kissed me on the cheek in the long hall of blue lockers and cold linoleum. I walked back to class touching the spot where her lips had been. I could feel the candycane stickiness of her kiss, and kept my hand there until the final bell rang. Over the break she called me. After talking for awhile she said "How come you haven't asked me to go with you?" I didn't know what to say, and stammered, embarassed. "It's because I'm Cambodian isn't it?", she sharply asked. All at once I realized that was why I hadn't asked her. I was mad for this girl, her adventurousness, rebel streak, and beautiful face, but I was afraid of what my friends would think. We were part of a group of all white jocky guys and gum smacking white girls. Thy was not someone known to my social circle. With her accent and skin color she never could be. I lied and said, "Of course not. It's just I'm not ready to go with anybody right now." And I lost her forever. After break I was ashamed to look her way and art was no longer a time of togetherness. I had given up the chance for the first great young love of my life because I was worried about others' racist perceptions. I had forgotten this for a long time, but Jeremiah's comment to Joe that "Tom's not a racist", brought it all back. I may not be one, but I let other peoples' prejudices break a girl's heart and my own when 14 was my only reality.

Origins pt. 9

In 6th grade social studies we were all at our desks doing round robin reading about Mesopotamia. The textbook informed my 11 year old mind that "human civilization began 5,000 years ago." Immediately I was overcome by dread, a darkening of my senses as I felt overwhelmed by my misunderstanding that before Mesopotamia there was nothing, in those days not knowing the difference between humanity and civilization. It was a crushing moment of insignificance and tinyness when I first began to contemplate how pointless everything was. It's hard to quantify now why this so disturbed me, but it did, and that feeling comes back to me sometimes when I encounter evidence of the past like the pottery shards I've found in my wanderings across the Colorado Plateau. I wonder if I was the only one in Mrs. Gorrell's class at Cherry Run that day who had their head blown off by the impermenance of their world conception.

Question of the Day?????????

Is Chik-Fil-A the only national restaurant chain with an openly right-wing agenda?

Name me one other fastfood joint that offers all customers free copies of The Washington Times (a great paper if you're one of the many who can maintain pro-war and pro-life positions at the same time-it helps to have a "wide stance"), and has little brass plaques on the cash drawers that say "Thou Shalt Not steal". Oh yeah, and they still honor the blue laws on Sunday. Also, mysteriously they are able to maintain a very white and English speaking staff even though every Mc'D's, BK, Wendy's, Taco Bell, and Arby's in the area tends to have an all immigrant workforce because teenagers here don't work anymore as they are too busy downloading songs onto their Ipods.

However, despite their allegiance to Brit Hume and William Kristol they do produce a superior frozen, breaded chik-n product when compared to the other grease merchants. And their unique waffle fries contain up to ten times as much surface area suitable for salting as your average thin potato snack(Wendy's excluded). And what other fast food restaurant gives you whip cream and a cherry on your milkshake? I'm told the cherry symbolizes the need for abstinence, and the cream stands for male depravity.

Origins pt. 8

A gray afternoon in spring with puddles in the cobbles at the entrances of alleys we walked up Lombardy. Jennifer shouted to us from her balcony. I pulled my BB gun from beneath the elastic of my shorts and in one quick motion had it pointing skyward towards her. She shrieked, probably an instant of brief terror, before she remembered we had those stupid guns.

Origins pt.7

It was around 11p.m. we were on the Beltway heading back from our first sort of date, an evening spent in the smoky confines of Murphy's on King Street. I was having trouble seeing my blind spot to merge left so I could get to the first exit for 66. I asked her "Can I get over?" She said "sure", and I followed her advice nearly getting smashed by another car. I said "Why did you tell me it was clear?". "I thought you were just asking my permission to switch lanes. I thought it was sweet."

Under The Tree

Rosemary Stretch

My buddy Roger is in a three-piece band, Rosemary Stretch. You can download their first EP here.

Dear Santa,
I would like the following:

• To win the Mega-Millions lottery so my family and I could live in comfort on the west coast of Ireland
• For John Edwards or Barack Obama to win the Dem nomination, and a similarly unqualified and inexperienced candidate win on the GOP side so that it will be harder to attack each other.
• To finish my GIS education and find gainful employment in either natural resources or politics
• A chance to see the Arctic before it's gone
• Impeachment
• For the U.S. to declare Israel as rogue a nation as Iran
• An improvement in the housing market so I can sell my modest home for great profit like I should have a year ago before the bubble burst
  

Schwarzenegger: California will sue federal government

Wow, that's a feel good headline if I've ever seen one. Way to go.


UPDATE: GM, Ford, and Cheney may be behind the head of EPA's decision to deny the recommendations of his staff.

Biofuels are insane.

One tank of ethanol is enough to feed a person for a year.

Stephen Malkmus

Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks do their best impression of Randy Newman in love with a soldier from Baltimore. . .for 6 and some odd minutes.

Seriously,

this guy? Stick to your source, bitch. Six days, SIX DAYS! And then some rest.

sick of seeing myself.

Turns out,

it could have been my half brother that took Tom's radio. The bottom right one is me drunk. Whoa, i look awful. Remind me not drink so much.

My Brother of Another Color

This is just too much fun.

West Asian Insects

Monkey Girl on Hyde St., San Francisco

Not that anyone will see it,

but there are allegations that clinton has rigged the Brown and Black Presidential Forum (only on HDNET?!? i mean i get it but i don't know anyone else who has it).

My Daughter the Chimp

half man, half chimp

With Giuliani Fiscal Conservatism Means Billing Citizens For Your Booty Calls

This story needs to be noticed! Clinton was impeached for far less an offense than billing the government for travel and security while conducting an extramarital affair. Giuliani is trash.

Update: Giuliani allowed his mistress to use the NYPD as a chauffeur service

75/25

Nah, man, you're more apish than us!

This will be a stop on the Gel Paco tour of the greater Washington D.C. area for any interested parties.

Watch...

Mr. Berman write (and erase).

half and half

50/50

oh my

From Bull Run Mountain, Looking West

half man, half chimp

half man, half chimp

Seriously, though, you gotta check this out!

Bull Run Conservancy

I've been driving through Thoroughfare Gap now for 15 years, admiring the mountains there with their white cliffs as I would approach from the west every morning. But I never had any idea there was a whole network of trails contained within its green heights. A mere 20 minutes from my house is a near wilderness of rugged terrain ascending to 1,200 feet with splendid views of the Fauquier County horse country. This area known as the Bull Run Conservancy is right off 66 near Haymarket. It's managed by a non-profit environmental group and covers 800 acres. The area was once homesteaded and as you hike there are numerous remains of buildings and other signs of a civilization being retaken by the woods. Now that I know this place is there I will be going out there a lot. This morning, Shaun and I did 5 miles of hiking there, and only saw one other person the whole time, and they were down in a valley on another trail.



View from the summit of Bull Run Mtn. looking west over Fauquier County. The Blue Ridge is no the horizon.

Remains of house near the Chapman Mill site.
Near an old dump site.

Dawson cemetery.

Digital Camel 4

Saturday morning after turkey day has led to the creation of Digital Camel 4. It'll surprise ya. Clear Tigers and The Snake The Cross The Crown are next on my purchase list.

La Futura

Highway Ethyl Revisited

• Mighty Car's soul visualizes
• Should she and errors write?
• Nightmares shouldn't have rotated
• Oscar Wilde dryly thought
• Christina Applegate's problem around some carnviorous lyrics crashed
• Delirious English babies
• Garfield was not a vacuum
• MacBeth's fetal man
• The game must have exploded
• I was carelessly confused
• stoned sharp babies
• seductive kings
• resonant hymn
• Malcolm X hasn't been my razor
• You have been a vacuous comic
• drama girl drippingly sighs
• may tennis balls kill
• will retards be chewy?
• nevertheless, we kill
• rough difficult head
• can your spectacles imagine?
• a frustrated seductive cheap f***
• my butt rams
• mushrooms by me fly
• Therfore, you ere like my devil
• warlike deities
• you should dream
• your deadly dictator sleeps
• Ben's guns will be epics
• you perversely should be your religion
• The thought
• Megan's light is not it
• can carnations need boys?
• Brains from the telephone
• my gun under my snake
• grim zebras
• nonexistent cerebrums
• polyester hair
• aspirations with no sun
• a religious towel
• addictions around me planned to drop
• Romeo wetly exploded
• crap stained gag
• quick politics
• naked weirdos
• be my murder
• tha illness smiles
• Should I have married?
• mustn't Tammy be your banjo?
• shaved relations
• Houdini is codeine
• Norway's apology
• the poetry was you
• Must Lincoln's senate shrink?
• his flatchested honey sometimes smelled
• sleepy love
• common grape
• we were partially dead
• the vision may kill
• cigarette without lips
• your apples are these apples
• Amir babbled
• this ghost is you
• rolling thunder is my jargon
• my peace is your joke
• couldn't we be lonesome?
• Melinda was my ecstasy
• regal dewdrop
• My handcuff was Piaget
• royal crap stained culture
• evangelical circus
• Santa Claus' ambulance
• hiccup to kill
• Rats must be tossing Vittorio
• your ashamed fantasy
• fretful spectators next to boxcars
• my cell is you
• Adam's star under the silent lonesome
• they hum to be resentful
• a naughty pipe
• I was the other twin
• Might it be my wegro?
• Boo's bitch sausage
• the panty barks
• their tummies forgot beef
• bongwater kisses
• foaming rears
• creek hiccup
• I will think polka-dotted
• intoxicated beside some grave
• your tragedy bench
• Ryan should be damned
• it's pitch sad outside
• Tom is a fucked up book
• the mountains had been like a bible

Yesterday

"Mr. Kevin, tomorrow is a great day"

"Oh yeah?"

"It's Thanksgiving, Mr. Kevin, the best holiday. Do you know why? Because you give thanks. To Allah. which is all he asks. The one true God. Everybody give thanks. No matter what religion you are from; if you are christian, muslim, jew, tomorrow you give thanks which is what allah asks. Even if I don't live here long, I will take Thanksgiving to where I go because it is the best holiday, ever."

Something Big To Be Thankful For

In Canada being a conservative means you conserve. In this country even a liberal wouldn't dare anymore to protect 25 million acres from development. This is such a great success for conservation, and it comes on the heels of last June's agreement in British Columbia that protected more than 11 million acres as wilderness along the Pacific coast.
Read more about one of the biggest national parks ever created

Find Your Candidate for 08

Take this candidates quiz to see who you should vote for. Post your results in the comments. My top two candiates based on my responses were Dennis Kucinich (73%) and Chris Dodd (60%). My highest ranking repugnantcan was, no surprise, Ron Paul at 40%. My worst scoring candidate was Mormon Mitt (4%).

RABBIT IN YOUR RUCKSACK - totally addictive dance music

The Ethyl Project

Eb, when you've retired from the fetal fairy one night I'd like to see a little more from the Ethyl Project, as promised.

Roots

I caught my first fish along this Burke Lake inlet during the summer of 86 just as Monkees reunion mania swept the country, and Gumby dominated the afternoon syndication market.

Simians

"He said the primates were 'even slapping women who try to chase them'."

While The Rest of the Family Napped

Speaking of the Iron Sheik...

it is nice to see he has aged gracefully.

The first thing that has made me feel good since seeing "Sicko".

Expansionism (Unfolding Saga, Pt.7)

There came a point in time when we were nearing Steamboat and realizing that it was getting on in the day and that we still hadn't stopped anywhere for food for the actual camping. The first outfitter store we came upon after we got off the highway was a bust. We went inside, looked all around for freeze-dried food in bags, and when we couldn't find any, Ryan asked the clerk for help. She showed us to a shelf that was full of food but Ryan took one look at it and said, "Whataya say, go somewhere else?"

"Got somethin' against this here food?" I asked.

"I don't know. You'd just think they'd have more selection probably somewhere else," and with that he asked the clerk if there were any more stores in the area that might have more food.

"On down at Steamboat there's a store. . .hold on," she said and walked us closer to the door. "Go out here and take a left, follow that road on down to the right and turn right on," some road which none of us remembered the name of 10 minutes later, " and go down about 2 miles. On the left hand side is a store called," another name we soon forgot. "They MIGHT have some food. It's a little late in the season and so our selection's not that great. They might be the same there. They're wrapping up their tubing season. They're right on the water."

We thanked her and left and drove in the direction she sent us in and then realized we'd forgotten much of what she'd told us.

"Do I turn right or left here?" Dawn asked and we all sat at the light.

"Right," Ryan replied.

"I don't know, Ryan," she said.

"No, I'm pretty sure, Dawn. You're gonna have to trust me. Turn right."

And she did and it was correct and Dawn appeared amazed and she told Ryan, "Wow. I have to admit, I wasn't real sure you were right, Ryan. Maybe it's Kevin I have to watch out for," and she looked in the rear view mirror and smiled at me.

"No, I'm pretty sure it's still Ryan," I told her and grinned.

A few miles down we pulled left into the parking lot of a small shack of a store touting the Steamboat touristy-kitschy sign and Dawn tried to park in the shade for the dogs and we went inside. A young woman in the back behind a wooden counter greeted us as we came in. Next to her on the wall was a door which led out to a creek out back with a sign next to it advertising inner-tube rentals. The three of us split up and went to looking about the store for food and whatever else we might need. I watched the young woman behind the counter for a minute, looked at a few things, and then found Dawn standing at a wall of shelves full of freeze-dried food in bags.

"See anything you like?"

"Yeah, what do you think?"

I thumbed through some of the merchandise. Kung Pao Chicken, Lasagna, Spaghetti, Shepherd's Pie. "I think I'm going for Kung Pao Chicken. It's not every camping trip you get Kung Pao Chicken in a bag."

"Yeah, I know," she said. "I don't know what to get. What do you think Ryan wants?" and at that moment Ryan came over.

"What do you think? Shepherd's Pie and Spaghetti?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so," said Dawn and I grabbed all three and made my way to the counter with a map that Ryan had grabbed. Ryan picked through some things behind me and talked to Dawn.

"Kinda quiet in here, huh?" I asked the young woman behind the counter.

"Yeah, it's getting close to the end of the season. Where are you guys going?"

"Right here," I said and pointed to the folded up map. "Your guess is as good as mine, I'm just following them."

"It's going to be cold. It's been getting down into the 30's at night."

Peter Von Poehl - Bell Tolls 5

Peter Von Poehl-The Story Of The Impossible

Peter Von Poehl

Dr. Dog

Dr. Dog - Adeline

Expansionism (Unfolding Saga, Pt. 6)

["Do you know anything about polyamory?"

"Um...If I'm not mistaken isn't it being in love with more than one person?" I asked.

"Sort of. I was talking with these two guys I met at the bookstore last night about polyamory. Polyamory is having deep or intimate, not necessarily sexual, relationships with more than one person. Do you think that's possible to do?"

"You mean, to have that connection with more than one person at a time? I think you probably could. But as far as having relationships that function and that function well, I don't think you can. It's hard enough to have just one relationship."

"Well the thing about it is, it's open, like, everybody is upfront about it and knows that you are in other relationships, maybe even knows the people you are in other relationships with. It's a way at getting at honesty and everybody is in it only because they want to be. If you're jealous you can't be in the relationship. It's like, that's one of the rules. Everybody is on board and up front."

"Yeah, it still sounds like trouble to me. I'm not saying it's impossible, it just seems like it could get really complicated really fast. I take that back, I don't think it's possible. Not for any sustainable period of time. I think people are just built that way," I said and turned to the back seat. "What do you think, John?"

"I thiiiink that, if you can do it then you can do it and if you can't then you can't," he said trying not to look as though he'd been paying attention. "I don't even know what you guys were talking about," and then there was silence for a short moment.

"What do you think about it?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said. "I mean in a perfect world it seems like it would be ideal but I can see where it could get messed up or people could get hurt. But it seems like if you go into it agreeing to share yourself with someone knowing that you are also sharing that someone with someone else and there was no jealousy, you could maximize your intimacy. I don't mean sexual intimacy, necessarily, but how much of yourself, your love, you could share with people and how much you could receive from them sharing with you. But then maybe you're right about human nature. Maybe you're not, I don't know. Yeah, I don't know."]

And then there was just silence.

"Hey, let's pull over here," Ryan said and we pulled off the road onto a gravel drive into a flat area where a port-o-john stood with a trash can next to it. We got out of the car and let the dogs out and both took off running into the brush and began marking their territory. At the edge of the field was a 4 ft. drop to a healthy creek-bed below with water running what looked to be 4-5 ft. deep.

I lit a cigarette and so did Ryan and we stood and watched as the dogs came back and Jeff made his way down to the water to drink. Juneau quickly followed and soon Ryan was throwing a large stick into the middle of the creek, which Jeff swam after. Juneau edged closer to the water, wading chest deep, not quite standing and not quite swimming. Both climbed back out together and both stood for a moment looking around. Suddenly Juneau took off back into the brush as fast as he could and Jeff followed suit. In the distance they stopped for a moment and then both dropped to the ground and began rolling on their backs in the remains of a dead animal. Both Ryan and Dawn began running towards them yelling for them to "Come HERE!" and "STOP!" and of course they didn't until Ryan and Dawn reached them, at which point both pooches sprung to their feet and began to run my direction.

"Oh, Jeff! You STINK!" she said as Ryan was laughing and covering his mouth and nose.

"Geez, Juneau!"

The dogs, Ryan, and Dawn made it back to the waters edge and both Dawn and Ryan made them wade and swim as much as possible. The embankment was steep and while Jeff came back up a somewhat passable slope, Juneau attempted to jump up a part of the embankment which was nearly vertical. His lower torso was dangling and kicking while his front legs grasped at the dirt and grass as he tried to scramble back up to where we were standing. I watched him for a second and realizing he wouldn't make it, I reached down and grabbed his collar and pulled him up the rest of the way. Once up, Juneau stood to his feet and trotted slowly away, looking over his shoulder at me once. Ryan laughed.

"When I punish Juneau I grab him by his collar," he explained to Dawn. "The other night we were up on the roof and Kevin was sitting in the lawn chair. He tried to get Juneau up into his lap by grabbing his collar and pulling him up onto the chair and Juneau wouldn't get up. Kev let go and Juneau went like 20 ft. away and laid down with his back towards Kev. He kept looking at Kev over his shoulder and then turning back around and laying his head down!" he said laughing. "Kev kept calling him and telling him to come back over and apologizing to him but he would not budge! Oh man, it was so funny. You wounded him, Kev. They made up later, though, didn't you Junes," he said and laughed and then coughed. "Ugh."

Back in the car I rolled the window down. Those dogs stunk.

"Did you roll your window down because they still stink like dead deer? Or their breath? Or because they smell like wet dog?" Dawn asked.

"I think it's pretty much all three," I said. As we took off both dogs stood next to each other, heads at the cage above my shoulder next to the window, both smiling and panting and sneezing.

great. just what i was looking for in the next president. secrecy and this.

off to have the baby!!!!!!!!

The list is gone. There weren't a thousand things.

Slippin' Mickeys

"2.(slipping a) Mickey

When you have to drug somebody against their will (hey, you gotta do what you gotta do), it just wouldn't sound right to slip 'em a Ricardo, a Bjorn, or an Evelyn. It's gotta be a Mickey.

At the turn of the 20th century, Mickey Finn was a Chicago saloon owner in one of the seediest parts of town -- and he fit right in.

Finn was known for serving "Mickey Finn Specials," which probably included chloral hydrate, a heavy sedative. After targeted customers passed out, Finn would haul them into his "operating room" and liberate them of all valuables (including shoes).

Never a Host of the Year candidate, this Mickey seems to have thoroughly earned his legacy, so don't hesitate to use it the next time you drug and rob your own customers." --some 'news' article I cut and pasted from a week ago

The Patch Is A Dreamcatcher

I recently visited a non-profit Native American advocacy group who is offering to help with any Native American clients caught up in the system. They hold a smoking cessation group on Monday nights and I jokingly asked them if I could join because they give free patches. They gave me some free patches anyway.

Two nights ago I was driving up to the mountains on business. The prison just happened to be at the top of a mountain, just above a village that I've been to before in a couple of dreams in the past. The sun was beginning it's descent behind the mountain as I drove up and so it was still light out but a purple hue was cast over everything. I drove around through the town to see how it had changed. There was quite a bit of construction going on; resort style houses being built, ski shops, touristy stuff but still quaint somehow. Someone had installed loudspeakers, however on the corners, and 2 women were talking in numbers and code I didn't understand. I parked down this road in front of a home that was being built and got out of my car with my file, nodded to the construction workers who nodded back. "I have gotten good at the 'Confidence Man' thing," I thought as I walked up the street in my shirt, tie, and suit pants to where the prison was. Along the walk I realized the women on the loudspeakers were corrections officers (CO's) in central control at the prison letting each other know which doors to open, in which wings of the prison, and which officers were on which tiers. It seemed a little eerie but also kind of normal. "I don't think I could live here," I thought. "There must be some back story about how it came about that the town thought it was a good idea to broadcast that."

I walked up the hill to the top of the mountain and stood at the gate of a sprawling prison and flashed my idea to the guard in the tower. The gate made a banging noise as the chain engaged and the moving part of the gate began to move and I was let in and the gate closed behind me. Going to prisons in the sticks is always preferable to going to prisons in the city. They're generally run tighter and the staff is generally friendlier to me. They're newer so they are much cleaner, at least the parts that I see. I walked up to the first building outside the second wall of fences and barbed wire. That second wall is always the real wall. It's usually a wall of 3 fences, ab out 10-15 feet apart, all three coated by razor wire. "Ain't nobody getting over those," I always think when I see them. But just in case they got that first gate I went through, mostly to keep the public out. Prisons are like that. Keep the prisoners in, keep the public out. There are motivations behind both tactics.

So I went into the first building where the two CO's who were at the control board were behind glass with a hole in it and a slot at the bottom to slide your paperwork through. I introduced myself, held my ID up to the glass, and slipped my visit confirmation letter through the slot. One CO took the letter and looked it over carefully, straight-faced, and grabbed the microphone attached to her shoulder, depressed the button, and called officer such and such to ready whatever client number xxx-xxx was and for control to open door who-knows-what for him to be brought to visiting. And her voice went out over loudspeaker, through the prison, and through the town. She pressed a button and the door to the sally-port to my right banged and opened and she nodded and said, "Go ahead" and I stepped in and up to the next door. The outer door closed, slamming shut and the door in front of me banged and opened and I stepped through and then the second door slammed shut behind me. A CO came out of control and said, "Hi, you can just go on in here, he'll be down in a minute," as he pointed to a doorway down the hall.

The lights in the prison, and in the room, were all fluorescent and fixed in metal cages that were covered in black dust, mostly. The lights cast a green on the milky, institutional, creamy blue-green paint on the walls. I sat down at the table in the room, in which one wall was made up entirely of dark blue painted lockers, but otherwise was empty. It was a decent sized room, maybe 30x20. The wall with the door on it, which only had a lock on the outside, was covered in shatterproof windows. The windows looked out into the hallway, but otherwise there was no other view except the motivational posters hanging on the walls. The posters are standard. A picture of a man climbing a mountain with caption at the bottom with the title, "Adversity" and then some wise quip about how to overcome the mountain. They're in every prison.

I'd never met this guy before but from what I read he was out of his mind. He was charged with some nuisance crime, found guilty, sentenced to 10 years and was already one year into it. While I was waiting for him to be brought down one of the CO's stood in the doorway. "This guy is pretty crazy. He doesn't belong here and we can't handle him. You think you can get him out?" I told him I hadn't even met him and that I wasn't sure. "His brother is here too. Brother's crazy also, worse than him. His brother has been in seclusion for 3 months and won't be getting out any time soon."

the haunted board.

my myspace page

Just thought I'd let you know that I have a myspace page now. A blog here is just too much pressure. So any of you on myspace, will you be my friend?

Anyone watching the debate..

Obama had a good Rocky joke, horrible delivery.

A Pillow of Dreams

Michelle and I are lying on our bed, and Kev, you are standing in our room along with my 2nd grade girlfriend Maria and an unnamed friend of her's. You're reading aloud a list on a scrap of paper that is supposed to be a list of everyone I ever had a crush on, but you're reading things like "VCU commemorative dime", which in the dream is instantly visualized in my head as a fine coin adorned with the brooding Johnson Hall on the back and a VCU logo across it. You're kind of rambling, and then you fall face down drunk onto the floor beside my side of the bed. There is drool coming from your mouth. I step over you and lead Maria and friend to their quarters, which are actually my parents' basement circa 1987. I pull out the sleep sofa for them, hand them sheets, and Maria remarks it's been a long time since we've seen each other.

Origins pt. 6

Don't hold me to the above date cuz I don't know for sure, it being Summer and all my lying prostrate in the back of Ryan's mom's van with late afternoon Eastern Shore sun bearing down on my page and we've got windows down, Counting Crows croon sad stereo songs to make us think of all the things we're no longer sure of. Not just every afternoon I look out a fast moving window of rte. 50 to gaze upon a goat tethered to a tree in a country yard leisurely eating grass and as I write these pen thoughts my nose knows manure's around and forever stretched out about us are the flat tilled fields soon to burst with prideful Maryland agriculture and many a vacationer will stop at a roadside stand to procure silver queen corn and cantaloupe that make me always think of seaside breakfasts when I'd sit and watch cartoons and not worry about death or being alone ever.

Behind the Sods

Sorry this was too funny and too well done to resist...

Layers of Enjoyment

What is Matt Hopper doing layering his sound like that? Seriously, go check out "Madison" and "Bottom of the Sea" over at Songs:Illinois

Making a Glee full Noise

Over at The Catbirdseat they've posted on Chicago's Blue Ribbon Glee Club, who, for your pleasure, cover Fugazi's Waiting Room and Pixies' Where Is My Mind.

Towson Roller Hockey Tigers...

kick off their regular season this week weekend featuring a new face. GO TIGERS!

beautiful futile windmills.

Unrelated events somewhere in Michigan...