Stayin’ Strong!

This is ‘round the time of the killings in Boston during the marathon just last year, so the media is having a field day and folks are creating memorials and yadayadayada - and a genuine tragedy is turned into fodder for those who like to get in touch with their feeeeeeeeeeeeeeelings and rah-rah-rah jingo it up.

I suspect that people who were most affected by the tragedy are the ones who’re least likely to rah-rah-rah it up and turnip something into a freakshow to promote their desires and wires - the folks I know who were in New York City on September 11th of 2001 aren’t the sorts of folks who celebrate and live it out loud each year, but then again I don’t know everyone who is involved in these sorts of tragedies - and I’m prolly the sort who strays away from folks prone to wild emotional outbursts, save for the few relatives I can’t always avoid.

Nadalest, some tragedies lend themselves to celebration more than others - f’rinstance, the Oklahoma City bombing on April 19th of 1995 doesn’t seem to generate as much buzz, and there were no howls about WHY DO POOR WHITE TRASHY FOLKS HATE US or plans to bomb poor folks into submision accomplished.

Anywhat, yeeesh, I’m not sure why I felt the need to get in touch with moi feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelings and purge moiself of dat - but I’m certain ‘tis not ‘cuz I’ve anything in common with what I’m ranting against, vagainst.



Shore Leave
All roads lead to good intentions;East is east and west is west and God disposes;Time and tide in a storm.All roads, sailor’s delight.(Many are called, sailors take warning:All roads wait for no man.)
All roads are soon parted.East is east and west is west: twice shy.Time and tide bury their dead.A rolling stone, sailor’s delight.“Any port”—sailor take warning:All roads are another man’s poison.
All roads take the hindmost,East is east and west is west and few are    chosen,Time and tide are soon parted,The devil takes sailor’s delight.Once burned, sailors take warning:All roads bury their dead.
—Harry Mathews, from an example of “perverbs,” the result obtained by crossing proverbs, in Oulipan poetry. Featured in the feature “Oulipo Sampler” in our Summer 1998.
Pictured: L’Oulipo à Boulogne, avenue de la Reine, chez FLL (via)


Shore Leave

All roads lead to good intentions;
East is east and west is west and God disposes;
Time and tide in a storm.
All roads, sailor’s delight.
(Many are called, sailors take warning:
All roads wait for no man.)

All roads are soon parted.
East is east and west is west: twice shy.
Time and tide bury their dead.
A rolling stone, sailor’s delight.
“Any port”—sailor take warning:
All roads are another man’s poison.

All roads take the hindmost,
East is east and west is west and few are
Time and tide are soon parted,
The devil takes sailor’s delight.
Once burned, sailors take warning:
All roads bury their dead.

Harry Mathews, from an example of “perverbs,” the result obtained by crossing proverbs, in Oulipan poetry. Featured in the feature “Oulipo Sampler” in our Summer 1998.

Pictured: L’Oulipo à Boulogne, avenue de la Reine, chez FLL (via)

“People sometimes sneer at those who run every day, claiming they’ll go to any length to live longer. But don’t think that’s the reason most people run. Most runners run not because they want to live longer, but because they want to live life to the fullest. If you’re going to while away the years, it’s far better to live them with clear goals and fully alive then in a fog, and I believe running helps you to do that. Exerting yourself to the fullest within your individual limits: that’s the essence of running, and a metaphor for life — and for me, for writing as whole. I believe many runners would agree” Haruki Murakami, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

My take: running is great - especially if the bike one purchased just yesterday had wonky handlebars, squealy brakes and a tire that bursted up, pup.

Haruki Murakami, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running
Graphic Novel Review: ‘Over Easy’ by Mimi Pond


Graphic Novel Review: ‘Over Easy’ by Mimi Pond


Autobiography works very well in the graphic novel medium. The fascinating stories of mundane life are usually unseen while we live them, going too slowly to see the big picture. When we look back, the richness of our stories comes out. Illustration heightens these stories, and so we get classics like Persepolis or Maus, which shows two stories, both the author’s and his father’s. The…

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I’d read about this book in the Sunday San Francisco Chronicle, and it looks rather like something I should read.

via 500px by Eric “Kala” Forey

I love spiral staircases, and these colours are SWOOOON! And that little sign is rather grand.


via 500px by Eric “Kala” Forey

I love spiral staircases, and these colours are SWOOOON! And that little sign is rather grand.

April 8th of 2014 at South Lake Tahoe, yo.

Don MacLean’s “American Pie” is one of those epic tunes that attempts to SAY SOMETHING, and I think he pulled it off quite nicely. Thee lyrics are memorable enough that I can be reasonably confident I can quote many of them without resorting to looking ‘em up on thee innerwebs, as I’ll attempt to do right below this sentence:

I met a girl who sang the blues and I asked her for some happy news, but she just smiled and turned away.

The song refers to ‘the day the music died’ - which I think references the death of Buddy Holly and the Big Bopper in a plane crash? I saw “The Buddy Holly Story,” of course - and even had the 8-track, but ‘twas decades ago.

Music can astral project us back in time and space, and ‘tis often rather powerful. For MumZilla, “American Pie” has special significance because ‘twas popular ‘round the time her own mum - GrandMumZilla - shot and killed herself. ‘Twas around this time of the year, actually - and Yeeesh, ‘twas not egggzactly the best Easter ever.

So MumZilla had loved the tune, but since then I don’t think she’s ever been able to listen to it in its entirely - certainly not by choice, because she used to change the radio station when it came on, or turn off the radio and wait for it to end - ‘tis eight minutes long.

But for moi, the song doesn’t quite have the same significance, and I can still enjoy it e’en though it brings back a few memories - Steely Dan’s “Reeling in the Years” was also popular ‘round that time if moi memory isn’t playing tricks, which is does oftentimes, especially getting older and having more to remember - and I’ve ne’er been great at linear thinking anywoh.

Anywho, for whatevs reasons I seem to be getting reminders, remembrances, and rememories about GrandMumZilla lately - she worked as a sort of Rosie the Riveter during WWII, and as you might’ve heard, they were recently recognized for their service by the U.S. government. And I might’ve mentioned that I’d dropped moi newest mp3 in the waters of Lake Tahoe, so I was using moi older mp3 which had “American Pie” on one of the playlists, gists.

And I’d gotten into a weirdo argument with someone about suicide, ‘cuz their stance was that ‘twas the most selfish thing anyone can do and how dare they kill themself, elf? Of course, they’d no clue that I was well-armed, because having a relative who killed themself gives someone suicide cred - and especially a grandmother! So moi take, which I borrowed from MumZilla, is that GrandMumZilla was one of the more selfless folks around, though she suffered from depression much of her life. Some brainiac said to MumZilla at her funeral: we had no idea she was so depressed, she was the one who listened to all our problems.

MumZilla’s response was: maybe that’s why she killed herself.

Yah, there’s nothing inherently funny about suicide, but there’s such a razor-thin line between comedy and tragedy that ‘tis hard to tell the difference if one’s sensibilities are such that one finds comedic fodder in rather dark situations. The great Dolly Parton once said ‘tis easier to laugh than to cry, and I think she might have a point - although ‘tisn’t always easy to laugh, is it?

Omigosh, someone also told MumZilla that folks who kill themselves don’t go to Heaven. Which doesn’t seem like much of a loss given that there’s an implication that Heaven allows folks in who say such idiotic stuff. And it seems that the more ill-informed someone is on a topic such as suicide are all too eager to share their myopic, reactionary, and simplistic opinions - even though nobody asked ‘em.

Then there was that author who once said that suicide is the ultimate last word. Which is accurate for those who view relationships as a score keeping enterprise in which whoever gets the last word wins. OK, I tend to be the type who wants the last word - even in phone conversations I’ll say goodbye multiple times in order to get the last word, and a friend of mine does the same thing, so we often spend hours saying goodbye, so long, I’ll listen to you later, take care, okay well I’ll talk to you later, TTFN, thanks for FINALLY calling me back snobbo, give my best to everyone. And sometimes in blogland I’ll keep commenting on folks responses to moi comments on their blogs just to get the last word, but then remind moiself ‘tis their blog and not moi own. But it kinda kills moi to let someone else have the last word.

Oh, but I was trying to make a point that getting the last word shouldn’t be all that important in the long haul - although I guess I can’t hold moiself up as a shining egggzample of how to roll.

Anywhatev: perhaps some folks kill themselves in order to get the last word, or for spite - but from what I know about GrandMumZilla this wasn’t the case.

Bye bye Miss American Pie

Oh, and apparently folks mean well when they say that the reason folks kill themselves is ‘cuz they’re weak. Omigosh, donut e’en get moi started on folks who use monocausal analysis and reasoning, ugh. Oh hai, I try to be tolerant and understanding of folks with limited brain skills, but so often ‘tis an epic fail on moi part, heart. Suffice to say as I all too often say, ‘tis often the case that what folks say says more about them than revealing an essential reality, oui.




Here’s an alternate take of thee above video - it’s eggzactly thee same but with different effects: http://youtu.be/LRsOTtjXnJk

Whilst running up Ski Run Blvd. last night - actually I was running down Ski Run after running up Ski Run, I saw the biggest coyote I’d seen crossing the street right in front of moi - and I didn’t have my trusty ski-pole, but I picked up a bit of a rubber thingamambob just in case he decided I looked like a nice supper - but he didn’t.

Photos from a visitors center of sorts near Stateline at South Lake Tahoe.

Photos taken at South Lake Tahoe, California (U.S.) no the 10th of Ape of 2014