Friday, April 29, 2005
"Just in case, Greely said, the committee recommended closely monitoring the mice's behavior and immediately killing any that display human-like behavior." definitely one of the oddest quotes i've ever found in a mainstream news article. Tuesday, April 19, 2005
may i just say that, terrible lapsed catholic that i am, this is the part of that religion i just *love* - the grandiose, archaic, ritualistic and just plain weird ceremonies and protocols involved in events like choosing a new pope. and of course you've gotta love it when there's an actual appropriate occasion to read a james tate poem. How the Pope is Chosen Any poodle under ten inches high is a toy. Almost always a toy is an imitation of something grown-ups use. Popes with unclipped hair are called corded popes. If a Pope's hair is allowed to grow unchecked, it becomes extremely long and twists into long strands that look like ropes. When it is shorter it is tightly curled. Popes are very intelligent. There are three different sizes. The largest are called standard Popes. The medium-sized ones are called miniature Popes. I could go on like this, I could say: "He is a squarely built Pope, neat, well-proportioned, with an alert stance and an expression of bright curiosity," but I won't. After a poodle dies all the cardinals flock to the nearest 7-Eleven. They drink Slurpies until one of them throws up and then he's the new Pope. He is then fully armed and rides through the wilderness alone, day and night in all kinds of weather. The new Pope chooses the name he will use as Pope, like "Wild Bill" or "Buffalo Bill." He wears red shoes with a cross embroidered on the front. Most Popes are called "Babe" because growing up to become a Pope is a lot of fun. All the time their bodies are becoming bigger and stranger, but sometimes things happen to make them unhappy. They have to go to the bathroom by themselves, and they spend almost all of their time sleeping. Parents seem to be incapable of helping their little popes grow up. Fathers tell them over and over again not to lean out of windows, but the sky is full of them. It looks as if they are just taking it easy, but they are learning something else. What, we don't know, because we are not like them. We can't even dress like them. We are like red bugs or mites compared to them. We think we are having a good time cutting cartoons out of the paper, but really we are eating crumbs out of their hands. We are tiny germs that cannot be seen under microscopes. When a Pope is ready to come into the world, we try to sing a song, but the words do not fit the music too well. Some of the full-bodied popes are a million times bigger than us. They open their mouths at regular intervals. They are continually grinding up pieces of the cross and spitting them out. Black flies cling to their lips. Once they are elected they are given a bowl of cream and a puppy clip. Eyebrows are a protection when the Pope must plunge through dense underbrush in search of a sheep. —James Tate, from A Worshipful Company of Fletchers, one of my favorite books of poetry. i was reminded of this poem and it's timeliness via metafilter. Monday, April 18, 2005
word to all the designers in the house: Adobacromedia can it be okay to stop worrying and learn to love monopolies? Friday, April 15, 2005
"I used to a gangster. So what? I did what I wanted to do." i love about new orleans that our newspaper can lovingly eulogize endearingly non-violent career criminals. probably the end of an era, that guy. Tuesday, April 12, 2005
i had a doctor's appointment this morning, which is not important except for the fact that as i was getting into the elevator to leave the building, another man was approaching at about the same time. clearly much older than me, probably somewhere in his mid fifties, he had the sort of weathered face that comes of years of outdoor labor and rough living, and his somewhat worn shirt, jeans and ballcap seemed to say the same. i got to the elevator first, so i put my hand in front of the door to stop it from closing, and nodded that he should enter first. he responded by gesturing for me to go, which i did, and held the door open with the button from inside the elevator. he got in, and after i pressed the button for the ground floor, we each leaned back against opposite walls of the elevator. "and besides, it's beauty before age, right?" he said. "don't think i have to worry about that." i told him. i don't know. i thought it was odd. Thursday, April 07, 2005
didn't know what to do for lunch today, but i got in the car and started driving and eventually found my way to bucktown, which is right in the neighborhood - picked up 3 lbs of boiled crawfish and 2 enormous blue crabs (and it was only 7 bucks - less than my usual smoothie/powerbar lunch), drove out to the levee on lakeshore drive, sat down in the clover and had a picnic by lake pontchartrain on what may just be the most gloriously beautiful day so far this year. i don't know why i've never done that before. Tuesday, April 05, 2005
so i've said goodbye to pablo, that's over, for the most part, though i still can't really wrap my mind around it all; everything's done with for now, and it's a matter of getting back to the daily routine of life from here. thing is, i don't think i'm very happy with the routine anymore.
tonight i've had just enough to drink at a little post-work soiree thrown by my favorite local paper distributor (it's a designer thing) to want to drink more, to talk more, to be sociable and feel interesting and interested in other people. but now i'm already home, the paper party is over and i'm awakening by the minute to the realization that drinking miller high life, at home, alone, isn't the solution to anything. *sigh* this past weekend was great, in that it was so full of things to do that i didn't have time to think about the previous week much. on saturday i went to a fancy lunch with melinda, my friend yvette's wedding and reception, my graduation from the loyola university institute of politics, and a wedding shower my parents were having for my cousin, who's getting married next month. yvette's wedding was the highlight - it was as textbook-perfect as weddings get, and i was able to spend time this weekend with friends from college who were in the wedding party, some of whom i hadn't seen in nearly 8 years and who, really, i don't know that i ever thought i'd see again. it was really great to see them and to realize that we've all evolved, separately, along similar paths, with similar interests - convergent evolution - and that we'd still be friends today if we kept in touch. which, sadly, we don't. bought a new needle for my record player and got that hooked up, which it hasn't been in years - my grandfather left me with two boxes of old spanish dance music and andy williams records, and i figure i owe it to him to at least give them a listen since i was never able to record them to CD for him. some of it turns out to be pretty good stuff. must find a way to successfully store LPs now. another high life, anyone? |