Recent Blog Posts
prose poem
post a comment | posted Mar 30
I am surrounded by the pieces of this huge
puzzle: here's a piece I call my wife, and
here's an odd one I call convictions, here's
conventions, here's collisions, conflagrations,
congratulations. Such a puzzle this is! I
like to grease up all the pieces and pile
them in the center of the basement after
everyone else is asleep. Then I leap head-
first like a diver in to the wretched confusion.
I kick like hell and strangle a few pieces,
bite them, spitting and snarling like a mongoose.
When I wake up in the morning, it's all fixed!
...
truth
post a comment | posted Mar 30
"We associate truth with convenience, with what most closely accords with self-interest and personal well-being or promises best to avoid awkward effort or unwelcome dislocation of life. We also find acceptable what contributes most to self-esteem." - John Kenneth Galbraith
"And I will give him the morning star."
post a comment | posted Mar 16
You will be flogged for being right and flogged for being wrong, and it hurts both ways--but it doesn't hurt as much when you're right.
There are times, however--and this is one of them--when even being right feels wrong.
Not-So-Recent Blog Posts
a scanner darkly
post a comment | posted Feb 26
"what does a scanner see?
into the head?
down into the heart?
does it see in me, into us?
clearly or darkly?
i hope it sees clearly,
because i can no longer see into myself.
i see only dark.
i hope the scanners do better,
because if the scanner sees only darkly,
the way I do.
then i am cursed, and cursed again.
and will only wind up dead this way.
knowing very little,
and getting that little fragment, wrong too."
- Philip K. Dick
a friend's poem brought this to mind.
post a comment | posted Mar 15
"I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantastical; nor the courtier's, which is proud; nor the soldier's, which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which is politic; nor the lady's, which is nice; nor the lover's, which is all these: but it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation of my travels, which, by often rumination, wraps me in a most humorous sadness." - As you like it (Act IV. Scene I.)
Pages: 1 (5 total blogs)