I don’t know what I’m going to do next, but I know that I’m not going to add to your pages anymore. No special reason: it just feels right to stop now. I’ll still write and post whatever and whenever I want; but I won’t publish it here on blogspot or blogger or whatever this place is called…
If I share text readings, or compose anything longer than a chirrup, I will probably use my Tumblr page.
(I just wanted to drop a short note here, so that the few
Last night I met with my family to celebrate my mom’s birthday, so today I woke up late and don’t have time to write much here. I’ll just say a couple things…
I keep re-watching Charlie Kaufman’s latest film Anomalisa (2015). It rewards every new viewing. At first it seems like a simple story, at least compared to his directorial debut, Synecdoche, New York (2008), which for me is like our age’s Citizen Kane (1941) because it succeeds at being daringly experimental
I sure am a city slicker… or rather a pampered suburbanite:
Yesterday I went for a walk on an unpaved path: it was a thin trail of dirt that meandered through the woods; it had long weedy grass on either side of it, and wild bushes, brush, vines, and trees hanging over it; and there were crazy little frogs, as small as a fingerprint, hopping everywhere.
Right at the onset of my venture, I heard a buzzing noise: it was deep and low, caused by a meaty insect.
I wish that I could acquire an interest in sports. I mean: I wish I could learn to like watching sports. (My days of playing sports are over.) (Unless they’re just beginning.) I’m jealous of all those souls out there who can get excited about the latest hockey scrimmage or karate tournament.
I recently heard a popular comedian define politics as “sports for nerds.” That made me feel bad, because I don’t want to be thought of as a nerd, but it’s true that I’ve latel
I like this world. I think the rulers here are basically good. If you need food, you can go to the store and buy it. But some people can’t get food this way, but that’s OK.
And there’s an ongoing discussion about weapons. Which weapons are permissible to wield? Should everyone carry a kitchen knife, to protect their dog from being bitten by a local poet? Or should each individual own a nuclear missile shooter, in case of hard times?
One thing’s for sure: it’s good to be alive.
The cherry on the top of the sundae of poverty is…
I can’t start this entry out like that. What do poor and rich mean, anyway? I want to remark that poor people have to hear about the lives of the ultra-rich, but the ultra-rich don’t have to hear anything about the poor. Like, when an ultra-rich person has a baby or gets married or divorced, or if they buy a new suit or dress, everyone in the world has to stare at the fact because it’s on the front page of the news
What if you were able to weep for a really long time, like a whole month straight—wouldn’t that be nice? All day and all night long, you could just keep weeping.
After an event like Fathers’ Day, which was on Sunday (I write this on Tuesday), I always feel at once exhausted and very hungry; yet it’s an existential hunger rather than simply physical: it’s not a craving for mere earth-food but a yearning for nourishment that transcends space and time; however, when I ask myself “What ex
But I don’t think I could give the same speech over and over again. I like to improvise. But I would never become a conman. So I should demand a calling that allows me to ad lib for the purpose of helping others, as opposed to one that requires improvisation for the sake of taking advantage of the uninformed (or aiding them at the cost of creative spontaneity).
We went to see my dad at the vets’ home yesterday for Fathers’ Day. I was worried that it would be bad, bu
What is the right amount of alcohol to imbibe, in a given situation? This is the question to ask on days like today, which is Father’s Day: a day dedicated to fathers. Alcohol is not a bad thing, yet it is not a good thing. (It is a good thing that can be misused, like Christianity.) It is a drink that one can drink when one wants to drink; and so is ice-water, and so is grape juice. (So is blood.) If one wants to undergo Fathers’ Day… By the way: shall we position the apo
Even if you’re one of those people who claims “I’m a real go-getter!” you have to admit, it’s a great relief to allow yourself to give up: to throw in the towel, to call it quits.
What if scientists cloned a human in a pod at a laboratory? Wouldn’t that be kind of like an insect laying an egg? “Open the pod bay doors, HAL.” That’s what Dave the astronaut says to the computer HAL 9000, in the movie 2001 (1968). And HAL says: “I’m sorry, Dave; I’m afraid I can’t do that.” I think that m
Science tells us that all humans think of solitary confinement as the second- or third-worst variety of punishment, yet God suffers for all of eternity in solitary confinement because Science bars any Deity from interacting with humankind; or if God interacts with a human, that human is then ridiculed for being mentally unstable and a liar; plus Science prohibits God from networking with more than a single soul at a time…
None of the above is true. Either that or s
My dear, dear diary:
I feel scatterbrained this morning, so I’ll allow myself to fill this electronic screen with phrases that come to mind without bothering to connect them in any meaningful way. (Normally my entries are heavy on meaning, and very cohesive in argument; well organized, with spellbinding interrelations.)
Father’s Day is coming up this weekend. The commandment keeps echoing in my conscience: “Honor thy father and thy mother.” I have no reaction to this.
If we end up destroying our habitat, our haunt, this globe we call home, then what?
Let’s say we move to another planet. What planet do you like? Can we just choose like we’re buying a model house? I don’t like Neptune or Mars… Saturn I think would be nice, because of the rings.
But I suppose the places in our local solar system are uninhabitable: the state has declared them not fit to live in. So we must go far away.
I don’t even know the names of
(Surely I’m not the first to say this.)
There should be a “NO” ballot. You should be able to cast a big, fat “None of the Above” vote. And when these NO votes win (which they will, I guarantee, by a landslide—if they are counted), the whole contest has to start over again from the beginning, with all the same plus optionally new candidates; for, whoever wants to join in on this round, you are welcome. There is only one proviso: Any candidates who lost to a prior NO-vote are ousted fro
But first, a note on the obligatory image: Here is a scrap of paper photographed on top of an illustration of mountains. I intended to eliminate the background (which is taken from an ancient encyclopedia) but ended up liking the confusion that resulted from all those sideways words and the vertical sea. The quotation comes from Calvin Tomkins’ biography of Marcel Duchamp. Tomkins is restating the artist’s own notes about Duchamp’s work La mariée mise à nu par ses célibat
I feel that there are vaguely three ways of being: you’re either too busy, or you’re bored waiting, or you’re blissed out. If you feel too busy, it’s because you’re doing what you don’t want to be doing. If you feel bored waiting, it’s because you’re…
No, none of those labels are helpful or interesting to anyone. Time flies when you’re having fun. That’s all that counts: that time is flying. But you can’t recognize that you’re truly in the midst of delight until it
Surveillance… Leadership… Controllers… Rulers… Dictators…
I just watched a documentary film about spying. It focused on the convoluted world of modern technology. So certain ideas are now at the top of my mind.
Say that a tyrant forbids his people from eating any food other than PICKLES. Then this tyrant monitors every last one of his citizens’ social devices until he finds a private communique from a lad named Bryan. The intended recipient of this communique from Bryan is his
I love people who love people. This might come off as a silly or sentimental or sickly sweet slushy thing to say, but it’s the truth: I love people who love people.
Just as there are parks scattered throughout every city — at least I hope there are (to be honest, I’ve only visited one city: my own, which has parks scattered throughout it; so I assume that this is the case for all dimensions) — I say, just as there are parks scattered throughout every city of the multiverse, there shou
This entry will only contain one single word, because, again, I’m short on time. Here it is: And, by the way, I’ve probably already written this word before — I should have performed a thorough search of my diary’s archives before committing my thoughts to the page on this stormy morning — however, amen (in this instance, I intend “amen” to mean “let it be”; also I referred to this morning as “stormy” because the Sky God is raining hard; and there’s lightning flashing, and thunder booming con
(This is a still frame that I stole from an online video because I was awed by the lines of the crosswalks.)
There’s nothing to see here, move along. That’s what the Officers of the Law always tell me when I try to peek over the yellow “Do Not Peek Over” ribbon that surrounds their crime scene. I chose this title for today’s post because today’s post isn’t really a post; it’s more of a placeholder. Here’s the scoop:
I stayed up too late agonizing about my f
Anyone who drives faster than me is going dangerously fast. Anyone who drives slower than me is going stupidly slow. If you don’t enjoy all of my favorite books and movies, then you have bad taste. If you married someone other than me, you chose the wrong spouse. You should consider having an extramarital affair.
The problem with modern politics is that everyone talks about it in terms of systems that don’t quite fit the world anymore. Maybe these systems never did
What is fun? What is a good time? Earth life has been so-o-o dreary for so-o-o long that none of its inhabitants can remember how to do anything but sulk. It’s odd that once you solve all the troubles of lovemaking, people simply stop making love. Hand-to-hand combat is passé, too: everything is done by remote control: robot vs. robot. We label all of our electronic devices “smart,” because we don’t want to hurt their feelings. And the field of teaching is now just
My dearly esteemed constituents,
I have heard that no two snowflakes are alike. Say that a scientist dedicates his life to comparing snowflakes. At the very end, when he’s reached extreme old age, his work pays off: he happens upon a pair of identical snowflakes. Yet the moment he tries to publish his findings, the snowflakes melt. Now all he has is one photograph as evidence, which everyone accuses him of doctoring. That’s why I’m all for religion; at least they believe you.
Is there a difference between art and ads? Say I make a short film — a documentary about a lumber shop — and my enemy creates a TV commercial for the exact same company. What’s the difference? Our films look identical: they both start with shots of middle-aged men standing next to enormous trucks; and they both end with an intern smiling at the camera and saying: Vote for wood.
A king pays an artist to paint a picture: a royal portrait, which is expected to emphasi
Some bad things are ignorable. Isn’t that true, and isn’t that good? For instance, if a damsel says “I’m being crushed by student debt,” she’s presumably using the word crushed figuratively. The debt is an annoying fact in her life; maybe she is reminded of it often when she receives bills or notices about the remaining balance, etc… But the discomfort that stems from this situation is different from the pain that a raccoon feels when it is hit by a car. The raccoon lies in the street from su