Monday, February 28, 2005

mens primordium piscis


the image aquatic.

cities sunken in the sea.

actually i don't know much about latin.

being in the middle of one, this book is one of my favorites for those "how shall i live?" moments; even though the light in the book is very different from this kind of light, this moment's kind of light, it feels similar, a yellow-&-white kind of brightness, blurry, hazy.

apparently science is suggesting a sixth sense, an intuitive instinct for avoiding nasty situations.
when i'm having bad dreams i can force myself to change the situation, & not think about it. the power of thought. what if i thought about it & it came true? the SUV hurtling through the sky. the giant turtle of mud with a spear tongue. my subconscious is a strange & varied place, methinks.

what is it about turtles that seems so primal?

i like that mainstream american culture still doesn't quite get the anime/manga thing, even when they try. it makes me feel like i'm part of something happening on the sly. of course, i also get frustrated when no one knows what i'm talking about. i'm a paradoxical creature.
i may even go to an anime con, if only to photojournalize the experience.
but i'm still not dedicated enough to get into naruto.
i'm still digging the miyazaki thing.

& they're working on an honest-to-god cloaking device. invisible aircraft. oh boy.
you can use it to travel in secret to your private estate on the moon.

let's toss up a dichotomy, beutifully illustrated by the photographers at nytimes:
photos of victims of genocide.
portraits of oscar actors.

i'm enjoying the multi-media (for lack of a better word) experiments in the literary world. i haven't read Jonathan Safran Foer yet, but i will. it already reminds me of House of Leaves, which showed up at my apartment round christmastime but hasn't been read yet.

the glorious Richard Linklater has a new movie coming out, A Scanner Darkly (which by the trailer looks to have the same wicked animated-over-live style as Waking Life), based on Philip K. Dick.
a testament to the glory of Linklater: this new movie stars kenununnunu reeves, who was so god-awfully miscast in his most recent flick (constantine, which i seemed sadly fated to see this weekend) that i hoped not to see his stunned-by-the-universe mug for a long, long, time.
& i still want to see this movie.
besides, it's got Rory Cochrane.

the glorious Richard Linklater should have his own website, dammit.

also up online are 2 "featurettes"--whatever that means, i dunno, future dvd stuff?--for The Lion, the Witch, & the Wardrobe, which could very well be just about the best christmas present ever.

& if you're interested in all that freedom of the press jazz, this is good news for you.
there's more bad news than good news, these days, but still.

after all, how would you stop Venice from sinking into the sea?

the fish in isolation

snow, snow, snow. currents of snow updraft just next to the house so from here it looks like i'm seeing molecules become active--the world inside a balloon. or a microwave.

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost

i'm not sure if this poem reminds me of this song or if this song reminds me of this poem.

sometimes i'm talking into the void (sometimes the void answers me)
are you there, void? it's me.

i feel lost in this pseudo-adult world of customs & contradictions. why would i want to live like that? are you happy? you don't look happy.

my mother's a pretty damn happy person. i try to live a little like my mother.

banging the keys in the silence of the snow.

Friday, February 25, 2005

mack truck


this is how i feel today. grrrr.

Thursday, February 24, 2005

searching for that connection to the great music machine in the sky?

oh wait, that's xm.
well, i don't have xm.
i have antijukebox.
& i am satisfied.

(pauses, sips tea, nods to tom waits, thinks of starry dynamo.)


(ed.'s note: it's a label, actually. & jolie holland is groovy. 2/25 12:52 pm)

i hope frank doesn't mind that i borrowed his grandfather clock.

time, time, time.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

the fish temporarily explores temporal avenues again

**If you look at nothing else, click on "linear direction" at the end of this post.**

So, despite a pounding headache (which may be due to the temporal shifts in my life, like morning) I have been experiencing some temporal aspects this morning. (Well, yesterday morning -- see one more temporal shift in Section A.)

Today (yesterday and tomorrow), the fish speaks to me of time. But filtered through this pain in my head, the fish's voice comes out garbled and out of order. It even is possible that there are no connections, though I doubt it. I will let you do the rest...

1) I always want to find some interesting and colorful pictures when exploring quantum theory, but invariably there are few colors and a lot of words. Though sometimes there are pictures of stern looking people doing serious things.

2) This also happens with superstring theory (sometimes referred to the theory of quantum gravity - ah so there is a connection, at least here). You'd think that a theory which begins with guitars and ends with, oh everything else, would run into a few more nifty pictures along the way. Though admittedly, the superstring people seem more interesting. By the way if you want to learn more about string theory, click here. (Note: this site is good for everyone from string-beginners to physics-junkies.)

3)I like Einstein. Though he looks sad here. Maybe he's sad because he missed the age of computers. What do you think he could have done with all the knowledge on the internet?

17) For a delightful book about Einstein theories of time, I highly recommend Einstein's Dreams, by Alan Lightman. It's a fiction book of essentially short stories based on Einstein's theories of how time works.

23)How does time work?

22AB&C) According to this article about time travel and theories of time (ah, one more connection), "The existence of new scientific models questioned our ability to understand reality and our comprehension of understanding reality." I'm not too sure about the rest of the article but if I don't comprehend my understanding, do I understand?

13.5) What is this sneaky thing called reality?

This is Danny Elfman.

10N) I believe time travel is possible. Most people do. They just think we can only travel forward. This assumes that time only moves in one, linear direction and that memory is not traveling through time.

1123) That's all for now. Have Fun!

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

um, fishie, about those stories: the childhood of fish


note: consider this image a teaser for a story (or 2, or many)

so the story begins circa 1986.
i'm a lovely little blonde princess. & a ballerina. with a most interesting daddy who loves me.
this is all true.

my father was a strange & brilliant creature, who saw life from more angles than most people.


Lord Yupa

i grew up on a strange media diet.
how many 8-year-olds you know list the Wall as their favorite album?
anyone else remember the Point?

i also liked normal child-of-the-80s things, like the glorious Rainbow Brite.
daddy loved me, & thought VCRs (& those early multi-unit video cameras where you had to carry a VCR round with you) were a fabulous invention (he had someone tape his surgery--& watched it. he was fascinated by his own humanity.) we could watch things over & over again.

aside: i wonder if today's parents reflect with nostalgia (which is a weird word to say over & over) on those prerecorded times.
probably not.


mysfit's going to beat me for posting this picture:)

anyway, thanks to my father's fascination, i had a whole tape of rainbow brite episodes. remember murky & lurky? and "i am the most magnificent horse in the universe"? i do.
(also thanks to my dad's diligence i have most of the christmas specials ever aired, my favorite of which i have always referred to as "santa claus & the immortals". ah, rankin-bass.)

sandwiched in the middle of all this childhood glee was the "weird show". that's all i knew to call it. the beginning was cut off, & i'd never seen anything like it. my father died before i knew to ask him about it (as is true for so many things.)



fast-forward through to now, years of trying to find out what the hell i had watched. i liked it, weird as it was.
once i discovered anime, sometime in high school (around the same time i figured out what that funny not-cigarette smell was coming from my dad's den), i realized what the weird show was. thus began the "have you seen this anime" campaign, but all my descriptions & depictions of beetle-like giant bugs with red eyes all over, & masks with flaps like dog ears, and desert & a little orange animal, met with blank stare after blank stare.

fast-forward again, play from sunday night. it's anime night here, complete with projector. spend several hours watching Bleach. (which is so very cool. plotwise it's actually kinda Sailor Moon-ish, only awesome.)


ichigo wants to know.

we pause the flow of subtitles to watch the new simpsons. cue commercials...
& THERE IT WAS!
the herds of insects! the glider! the masks!



it was Nausicaa of the Valley of the Winds, & it came out on DVD yesterday, & it was good.
& it made me sad, but more glad than sad. & about 6 years old.


nausicaa

the fish is late: the weekend tourist



unfortunately, the timeliness of personal illustrations & ruminations is out of whack. wacky. something. at any rate, i mean i don't have a digital camera, so i have to wait for film to come back to me, well, first to escape the tupperware in the fridge & then come back to me. so travelin' posts must be illustrated by the work of others, for the time being. for example, the ocean photo was taken last spring. but it still looks like me.

me & my magnificent red scarf. sigh.

make him tell you how to row a rowboat across the sea.

there's a want ad in the advance for a girl friday. i would love to be able to say that about myself. there is one hip bar on staten island & that was friday, where there is also one jug band on staten island. even on fridays. the vampire bunnies song was not played twice but still i was content.

my parents came to visit me, they stayed in a hotel & wondered vaguely what we were all doing here. we were cooking & then eating dinner. do you like salmon? do you like cranberries? i do.
i also like cranberry bogs; there's something banshee-ish about them. when one day i explain my relationship with new jersey i will definitely mention cranberry bogs. also i will mention its chaotic, bermuda-triangle-esque events, like this one. i would like to find twenty bucks, let alone five million.
we were also delighted by strawberries covered in chocolate. imagine, there's a whole allergic population that will never know the pleasure. i wonder what i'm missing out on?

becuase it is february, & because there is nothing to do here (at least that my parents would enjoy, in february anyway. what is it about february?) we voyaged over bridge & bridge to manhattan, to central park, to see the gates. which was definitely an experience. as a photographer i had a field day, because Christo & Jeanne-Claude were absolutely correct about the colors. personally i think 21 million dollars & 20 years could be better spent, but i'm not a conceptual artist, the fabric was very tangible & tangerine, & it was a "happening", as me mum said: never have i seen so many out in the park in february.
also it's (deliberately, of course) ephemeral. blink & it's gone. if it takes you 16 days to blink.
photo by wolfgang volz (what a moniker):



& if you wanted to know, current all-i-listen-to soundtrack: Funeral, the Arcade Fire.
nice. also if you click on the floating house you can see the flood from inside.

apparently you really have to know how to cook a turtle, he says.

we're melting the icecaps at an insidious rate, you know. you have no right using an SUV in the city, you ignorant, indifferent oileater.

don't remember where you've been? make a customized map of your travels. this is mine:




soon there comes the story of the intrepid Lt. Drinkwater.
also my thoughts on the anime that didn't exist for 20 years.


me down about the ol' homestead

the fish temporarily explores temporal avenues

Move a few paces to the future, my friends.

& in the fishness blog them

y'know, the bloggie main page is having some temporal difficulties. different parts of the page think it's last august, last march, and today, respectively. um. yes. the bloggie is in charge of the fish's public appearance--we co-rule, that is--so be prepared to experience some minor temporal distortion.

i know i am.

there are so many things that must be said (re: written) bubbling & bumbling about in my head, lead on macbeth or whathaveyou, i'm like a faucet. tap. valve? no, not valve, sounds too vulgar. i'm rather elevated today, despite my appearance.

but one thing is manageable. i'm coming (creeping) to the end of a journal (a tangible one. i have been known to still use a pen, tho admittedly not as much as i used to, & i never inhale) & rather than typing the more choice bits of the last year, year & a half, up into a file i'll rarely even notice, you know, for posterity, for whoever it is that's going to come along after i'm dead & read this mountain of paper & glue, i thought i'd disseminate them like pomegranate seeds over the web. yes.

go on, taste it. have seven.


Matter 1

This is my poem. You can't have it.

She carries the poem around with her,
aimlessly possessing it, like a paperclip.
She thinks it's a paperclip.

Fact: over here, paperclips are bobby-pins.
Bits of bits sucking up the random matter
of pre- and post- existence.
In Hard-Boiled Wonderland & the End of the World,
a book she no longer possesses,
it all came back to
tying the unicorns to the paperclips.

This is my paperclip.
All my paperclips
are one paperclip.
All my poems are one poem.

Would you like a paperclip?

Staten Island, 2005




& if you wanted to know:

haruki murakami

Monday, February 21, 2005

The place was full of cops. I saw this at a glance.



hunter s thompson died on sunday. self-inflicted gunshot wound. he probably saw the pats winning a fourth superbowl as the sign of some horrible and most unchristian doomsday and decided to check out before that shit went down. either way, long live gonzo.



buy the ticket. take the ride. these illi's are by ralph steadman.

the fish finds more mortality, & later, other things

look at she who was sandra dee

Friday, February 18, 2005

the mortality of the fish


Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio...

sirens go sweetly past my window

...And after a year or two people had quite accepted it, and said it was probably a symbol. Not of anything exactly, but still a symbol. Definitely symbolic. --Small Gods

thing to love for today: artistic reference. you know, a bad poet borrows, a good poet steals, etcetera etcetera my sweet old etcetera.

it all started this morning with mc escher. within the labrynthine means of making computers do things, an image of escher's fish appeared--& disappeared (later it came back with a whole host of fishie friends, but that's not part of this story.)
i was thinking about eschers mortality piece, aka the skull in the eyeball. dunno what it is about this image that's so striking--wait, yes i do. (fanfare) Symbolism! on a gutteral level. visceral?

what was i talking about? ah yes, skeletal.
it's like those northern renaissance paintings with all those symbolic details & always a death's head grinning somberly from somewhere, i don't know, under a linen or something.

eventually this gets me thinking about skulls all by themselves, as symbols, but before that happens i'm still with this particular image, & like a bad epileptic montage i get a series of visual references from all over the board. of course, i just watched donnie darko (most impossible website ever) & it's pretty prominent, hangin' in the bedroom, bein'...mortal, i guess. interesting that you can barely see the skull for the most part, but you've seen the image before (part of symbolic subconscious?) & so you know it's there. not to mention the other deaths heads etcetera, that film has too many symbols to mention, it's flooded, it's a cornocopia of archetypes & i can't contain it all! (deep breath) so there. the director's cut was totally worthwhile, by the way. i saw the original once, some time ago. so i don't know if it was just watching it for a second time (one of those movies where you have to) or the new edit (i noticed some longer scenes & a bunch of really cool random cgi stuff. like landscapes in the middle of a conversation) but i dug it deeply. & frank did not give me nightmares this time. & the dvd is worthwhile if only for the #1 fan darko-mentry, which is so geeky i can't tell if it's real. also darkodom uk thinks darkodom us sucks. whatever that means.

& this is very geeky of me, but the image (ahem, what we were talking about) also shows up in farscape "won't get fooled again." (quit it with the cards!) as creepy scorpy/harvey moment. "Invisible creatures that only i can talk to get called harvey."

symbolism again: without having read it yet of course, the new empire state building building book, Empire Rising, reminds me of ondaatje's In the skin of a lion, which book, however, is currently loaned out of my library, so an explanation of that statement will have to wait. perhaps in the meantime i'll read empire, perhaps then i'll really know what i'm talking about. oooh goody.

want to talk symbols? there's always Salvador Dali, who's got a show up at the philly art museum.


It was a magnificent bird, golden-brown and yellow-eyed, and it surveyed the crowds with blank disdain.
"It's a sign?" said an old man with a wooden leg.
"Yes! A sign!" said a young woman next to him.
"A sign!"
They gathered around the statue.
"It's a bugger," said a small and totally unheard voice from somewhere around their feet.
"But what's it a sign of?" said an elderly man who had been camping out in the square for three days.
"What do you mean, of? It's a sign!" said the wooden-legged man. "It don't have to be a sign of anything. That's a suspicious kind of question to ask, what's it a sign of."
"Got to be a sign of something," said the elderly man. "That's a referential wossname. A gerund. Could be a gerund."
..."It could be a messenger from the Great God himself," said a woman.
"It's a bloody eagle is what it is," said a resigned voice from somewhere among the ornamental bronze homicide at the base of the statue.

--Small Gods, Terry Pratchett.

The Fish Speaks in Mysterious Ways

For some reason the voice of the fish has been echoing through my head today connecting two experienced fish-followers. The following is the result of that echo:

Monty Python may not be the originators of the fish, but they definitely do it well... they fill me with warm goo. If you don't know who or what I am talking about then you should definitely find the fish:

STRANGE MAN:
I wonder where that fish has gone.
STRANGE WOMAN:
You did love it so. You looked after it like a son.
STRANGE MAN:
And it went wherever I did go.


On to the other, and perhaps stranger of the two experienced fish-followers:

Maurits Cornelis Escher, better known as M.C. Escher, followed his own fish from June of 1898 until his death in March of 1972. My favorite Escher is called Reptiles, and through they are not fish, they often eat fish, so they too, are experienced fish-followers. Escher is probably best known for his impossible structures, though his work in geometric symmetry is really fish-quality:


"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail. "There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail. See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! They are waiting on the shingle--will you come and join the dance?"
-from Chapter 10 of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll

(Ok, maybe three...)

Thursday, February 17, 2005

it's the freakiest show


life on mars?

the fish in water


zena holloway follows her fish

post-script: the fish & the 36-hour rebound

well, i'm bloody useless for anything today, it seems, & sitting at the computer is oddly comfortable, so here i am spewing my thoughts into the void even if no one's listening.
(You leapt into the abyss, but find / It only goes up to your knees)

for the record, it's sunny & snowing outside the control room window. what are they thinking out there?

so i obeyed my prescription & swallowed a soma, which made me feel very brave new world.

feeling more cheerful, i thought i'd hang up a few more cheerful notions.
ergo:

the full trailer is out for hitchhiker's. i do not know what's up with zaphod's head[s], but my thumbs twitch with anticipation. i'm startled by how cute marvin is. somehow he always showed up in my head as some weird leftover flight of the navigator image crossed with bender from futurama & rosie from the jetsons. a bit.

they found mammoth bones in kansas right where we got pulled over (at which time i first experienced sitting idly by whilst our driver stuck his tongue out at the trooper.)

the army put the army video game developers through boot camp. i have mental pictures & they're deeply disturbing.

science finds new things every day! wheeee!
The work suggests that "we're right on the cusp of where the genetic evidence says the origin of modern humans ... should be," he said. that's right kids, 200,000-year-old human skulls.

& your favorite & mine, the daily show, wins another credential. we should send them cookies.
or, if we were terribly rich, it would be fun to go here.

all my life till i was 18 i thought i was i pisces. whether or not this has anything to do with my love of the vastness of water, i don't know. i love the effects of water. zena holloway does too.
i think she follows her fish.

last but not least, if you're feeling creative (paying attention mysfit?), make a shade from slides or make a lamp from your blank cd spindles. (me, i use them in conjunction with post-it notes as a filing system. i have a whole lot of farscape.)

"Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something." the Princess Bride.


field of quacks.

fishies contemplating ouch

an essay on pain? why not. i seem unable to think of much else today.
background info: been in 'most constant pain for some years now. damn windshields, stupid cars. cars that break. every car is a potential threat--so you can imagine how much fun it is on the turnpike. think driving is a video game? try my perspective. it's almost pavlovian at this point.
cue series of doctors. got one good chiropractor out of a field of quacks, & then the insurance booted me. woohoo!
but they don't seem to mind my orthopedist(s?) who run a kind of pain mill surrounded by lawyers (be prepared for a several hour experience). oh boy oh boy, the crazy treatments & tests they come up with. electricity is a favorite, & an mri is a very scifi experience (think fifth element but not as sexy.)
yesterday i was formally introduced to pens treatment. apparently i am experiencing the following:

Early in a series of treatments there is frequently a temporary increase (‘rebound') in pain, which may last as long as 36 hours. Although this may be distressing, it indicates that the treatment is capable of altering the pain pattern, which is a positive sign. In fact it is quite normal for patients to report a period of rebound pain in the first several treatments. Over a series of treatments the periods of relief become longer and the periods of rebound pain shorter until the relief becomes sustained, lasting months or years in successful cases.

which both gives me hope & makes me nervous. & i do it all over again next week. oooh.
but i've gotten over my apprehension of acupuncture, which is promising.
at this point anything but surgery, baby!

what's pain really anyway?

I'm feeling a little bitter. little bit trapped in this breakdown body. instead of percocet i have this quote:

"And don't tell me God works in mysterious ways," Yossarian continued, hurtling on over her objection. "There's nothing so mysterious about it. He's not working at all. He's playing. Or else, He's forgotten all about us. That's the kind of God you people talk about - a country bumpkin, a clumsy, bungling, brainless, conceited, uncouth hayseed. Good God, how much reverence can you have for a supreme being who finds it necessary to include such phenomena as phlegm and tooth decay in His divine system of creation? What in the world was running through that warped, evil, scatological mind of His when he robbed old people of their power to control their bowel movements? Why in the world did He ever create pain?"

"Pain?" Lieutenant Schiesskopf's wife pounced upon the word victoriously. "Pain is a useful symptom. Pain is a warning to us about bodily dangers."
"And who created the dangers?" Yossarian demanded, He laughed caustically. "Oh, He was really being charitable to us when He gave us pain! Why couldn't He have used a doorbell instead to notify us, or one of His celestial choirs? Or a system of blue-and-red neon tubes right in the middle of each person's forehead? Any jukebox manufacturer worth his salt could have done that. Why couldn't He?"


"People would certainly look silly walking around with red neon tubes in the middle of their foreheads."

"They certainly look beautiful now writhing in agony or stupified with morphine, don't they? What a colossal, immortal blunderer! When you consider the opportunity and power he had to really do a job, and then look at the stupid ugly little mess He made of it instead, His sheer incompetence is almost staggering. It's obvious. He never met a payroll. Why, no self-respecting businessman would hire a bungler like Him as even a shipping clerk!"
--Catch-22, Joseph Heller

But wait! we can all relax about one thing. it is "unlikely" that lobsters feel pain when...um...boiled alive.
& of course, scientists are always out there creating new & improved drugs, actually seeking some of the first real leaps in painkilling since opium & willowbark. (the orthopedist i mentioned above has prescibed me a cornocopia of thingies, most of which i don't take. celebrex? i'm not even 25. thanks no.)

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

there's a frood who really knows where his towel is


vogon poetry, captive audience
teehee


what happened when i followed the fish

The Weekend Tourist: how to recognize Massachusetts right away

a long post is like a long drive.

i love dive bars. there's something timeless about them, 'specially in those areas where they still let you smoke. however, there is nothing to love about a dive bar w/o a bartender i.e. w/o drinks. unless you're as interested in all the shit posted on the walls as you're pretending to be. which i wasn't at the time. so it was a relief that friday's HA show was--well, it was divey, but there were plenty of drinks & almost as many people. with elbows. not dancing. ah, manhattan.

all other plans for the weekend were forgotton until they were upon us, like mountains out of clouds or something equally startling.
oh, my, we're going to new hampshire? i thought i was receiving more episodes of lost--a rather lame show that i really shouldn't be addicted to except that it's compelling like pulp serial novels or mediocre comics--call it the "what happens next?!?" syndrome.
or visiting the year of the rooster festivities at the chinese scholar garden.
but no, off to NH to a place i've never been, to visit people i don't know. yay! excelsior! onward & upward! charge of the light brigade!
Destination: a brick apartment in an old textile mill in what was laughably referred to as an industrial wasteland. i politely informed new hampshire that it didn't know industrial wasteland from trees; there's no wasteland like home.
at some point between walden pond & lowell i was inspired (once the weather gets warmer) to travel a new england literary pilgrimage thingie. go forth through folksy robert frosty country. i'm such a nerd.
i like being a tourist. i'm a tourist in my own back yard.
tangibly speaking, the weekend produced some as-yet-undeveloped black-&-white photos & the soundtrack to Life Aquatic. i'd forgotten what a strange movie that was (it's a strange strange soundtrack. but the brazilian singing bowie songs in portuguese is brilliant. even when it's not portuguese, since apparantly "your face is a mess" doesn't translate.)


i also picked up a smattering of interesting thingies over the weekend. cue links!

  • i have one of these. it's an heirloom. i have no idea how to play it.
  • like incense? i like this incense. thought you'd like to know.
  • i know the superbowl dawdled by a little while ago now, but i love philadelphia & dug this nytimes op-ed piece ("four centuries and a cloud of dust") on the fundamental differences between 2 cities that sorta founded this country. (ah, "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times...") to quote: In the words of one 18th-century immigrant, "Pennsylvania is heaven for farmers, paradise for artisans and hell for officials and preachers." Even from a distance the regional differences stood out in high relief. To the European mind, New England was a benighted backwater in which good Quakers were persecuted. Philadelphia was a utopia on earth. anyway, i think boston sports fans can shut up now.
  • in 2029, people in europe, africa, & western asia--provided they're all still around by then--will be able to see an asteroid careening past the earth, just by looking up. apparently this never happens.
  • if you, like many people i know (viva la geeke!), are interested in the vast worlds that exist only in bizarre whole-other-life online video games, you might dig this perspective from inside the factory, as it were. i love social phenomena.
  • a princeton man by the name of harry g. frankfurt has published a most important philosophical work: On Bullshit. goody. this nytimes article won't even print the title: The essay goes on to lament that lack of inquiry, despite the universality of the phenomenon. "Even the most basic and preliminary questions about [bull] remain, after all," Mr. Frankfurt writes, "not only unanswered but unasked." The author says about himself, "I got interested in philosophy because of two things," he said. "One is that I was never satisfied with the answers that were given to questions, and it seemed to me that philosophy was an attempt to get down to the bottom of things."
    "The other thing," he added, "was that I could never make up my mind what I was interested in, and philosophy enabled you to be interested in anything."
    which statement, i think, is a most apt description of this path. applies to students of literature (me) too.
  • film & tech aficianados--& people wondering what i might want for my birthday (yeah right) take note. & that's all i have to say 'bout that.
  • prisoners in diamondback oklahoma are converting to huna, an ancient hawaiian religion. (they say god works in mysterious ways...)
  • the new constantine movie is getting brutal reviews. i mean, i was pissed when they cast kenunu "whoa" reeves, but i thought, ah well, the first matrix movie was good (NOTE: the importance of philosophy!)...so...& i was going to see it anyway, but now i really don't know. i really dug the hellblazer comics.
  • if you dig the vague subculture that contains neil gaiman, you might dig this.
  • if you like random collections of weird shit, try these wedding announcements.
  • there's a patron saint of drug runners in mexico.
  • watch the kids show viral video--if you dare.
  • harvey the rabbit, frank the tumor--the power is in the mind...
  • the mad scientists are out there, working on immortality.

just so you know.

symmetry. humans find faces more attractive when they're symmetrical. to a certain extent, anyway.

it all has to do with balance. old men talking about equilibrium.

measure your symmmmmmetry today!

my face is not at all symmetrical, actually. but this android can tell you how cute you (or your girlfriend) are. i think that's an asymmetrical statement because it feels awkward. unbalanced on my tongue. also observe the element of babyfacedness (actual word) in the laws of attraction, which seem to be not unlike the laws of thermodynamics.

Essential Symmetry

I was reflecting on the basic symmetry of life, on how things always come back around and how things always repeat themselves, and I felt the weight of the repetitions bearing down upon my fragile mortal shell. Then I recalled the fractal images I have seen and remembered that repetitions can be beautiful as well. The lightness of the realization that I too am a repetition, that I belong to something large and lovely in its symmetry, lifted the weight from my back.

"On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero." -Fight Club

I was born. Before me there was only a void where I would exist. Before me there was a space in the world into which I was born. And when I die I will leave a space where I was, a space in the minds of the people I have known and in the minds of people who have known me. All I can hope for in my life is that I fill the space of me; that I fill my space with life.


The world is so marvelous from up here, so peaceful, so wonderful, and so fragile.

Life is not a rehearsal.

~ Ilan Ramon ~

Israeli Astronaut lost on the Columbia Space Shuttle

Monday, February 14, 2005


the luminescent rodin


the most romantic of sculptors

and really bad eggs

happy st valentines day to all ye who care to hear it.
for a festival rant, nothing thus far says more than this article about the joys of the hallmark holiday. besides offering some rarely heard perspectives.

personally i'm drinking champagne with raspberries, between phases of cooking dinner for my love who's in the shower & brought home roses & Breakfast at Tiffany's. there is a flower in my hair, & it's raining. we're listening to st. germain. lipstick makes it difficult to kiss.

dreamed about pirates of the caribbean last night. parler? you're not a eunuch, are you?
be prepared for an incoming story of the weekend.


heart heart heart.

the fish welcomes the parrot's voice


Einstein, the amazing talking parrot. I mean I know that parrots can talk, but this is just ridiculously cool.

Einstein is a rockstar.

Saturday, February 12, 2005


"i am a roving gambler, how do you do"

the voice of the butterfly is heard in the fish

tasty [meta]quote for today

"Death takes what man would keep," said the butterfly, "and leaves what man would lose. Blow, wind, and crack your cheeks. I warm my hands before the fire of life and get four-way relief."...

It serves you right, she told herself. You know better than to expect a butterfly to know your name. All they know are songs and poetry and anything else they hear. They mean well, but they can't keep things straight. And why should they? They die so soon...

"Not, I'll not, carrion comfort, look down that lonesome road. For, oh, what damned minutes tells he o'er who dotes, yet doubts. Hasten, mirth, and bring with thee a host of furious fancies whereof I am commander, which will be on sale for three days only at bargain summer prices. I love you, I love you, oh, the horror, the horror, and aroint thee, witch, aroint thee, indeed and truly you've chosen a bad place to be lame in, willow, willow, willow."...

The Last Unicorn, Peter S. Beagle.

(some of you may remember the animated movie. no one should have let mia farrow sing. warble warble. they're making another movie, live action/cgi, with virtually the same cast, except ms. farrow will be the wench not the unicorn. that's what happens to women as we age ... but ah, to see christopher lee as haggard...i'm babbling.)

Friday, February 11, 2005

goodbye arthur miller


"maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets"
1915-2005

Thursday, February 10, 2005

mediamediamedia

i love to visit ifilms in the morning.
about an hour ago they posted a clip for downfall, a movie about hitlers last days in berlin. it's up for an oscar or some such. after some effort i found a subtitled trailer. intense, what? want another? gunner palace, coming in march, documentary, us soldiers in iraq, present time. ooof. someone just hit my humanity nerve.

moving on? donnie darko director's cut--whatever that means--get your dose of weirdness & echo & the bunnymen. oh yes, bunnies. haaaaarveeeey...

what, i ask you, is the appeal of the creepy imaginary bunny?
observe exhibits A, B, Q (which is different & not really creepy), X, etc. (be warned about the etcetera.)
i'm sure there are others.
(actually, i too find weird bunnies appealing. i just wanted to point out the phenomenon.)

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

an article in the ny times revealed to me that there is a woman running about with a camera making people do extraordinary things.
for example:

Ms. Sussman grabbed a video camera, and the rehearsal began. "Just walk around," her choreographer, Claudia de Serpa Soares, told the actors. "O.K., now find somebody in the group and lock eyes with them, like they are a magnet pulling you together. Now lean your body against theirs." A group of extras, including children, joined in. A smoke machine began blowing mist. Over the course of the next hour, the motion accelerated into a full battle scene: men toppling onto one another, suits ripped off, children hoisted aloft, women crying and weaving through the carnage. The music escalated. "Mosh pit!" a child shouted.

apparently this is the intervention of the sabine women by david, loosely, & in 60's mod costumes.

also, apparently the next random american music city (i.e. seattle, austin, athens, etc) is montreal. i have mixed feelings about this. but the music is good.

oh, & we're building bigger & better bombs. they'll last longer. it seems our arsenal is 5 years past its lifespan. goody.
thank you nytimes. (i'm a nerd, what can i say, i think it's awesome that the times emails me the headlines every day.)


i guess i feel kinda plinkety pounding.

need 2 hours of music & don't know where to get it?

Wednesday seems a good day for a playlist.
I like lists.

by the by, as per the left sock, all links should open in new windows. maybe.
  1. "2 wicky" - hooverphonic
  2. "us" - regina spektor (comrade!)
  3. "someone saved my life tonight" - elton john
  4. "les os" - the unicorns
  5. "om" - the moody blues (ah, it's sad when psychedelics get old)
  6. "cream" - prince (i guess i've been feeling sexy lately)
  7. "space beatle" - the beta band (heirs to the moody blues)
  8. "asleep in perfection" - augie march (oz)
  9. "supernaturally" - nick cave & the bad seeds (lyre of orpheus)
  10. "foul jasmine" - david garza
  11. "all tomorrow's parties" - rasputina
  12. "ocean breathes salty" - modest mouse
  13. "sleeping in" - the postal service
  14. "whenever you fall i die" - the delays
  15. "this song" - badly drawn boy
  16. "veronica" - elvis costello
  17. "still ill" - the smiths
  18. "she's got you" - patsy cline
  19. "there she goes, my beautiful world" - nick cave & the bad seeds (abattoir blues)
  20. "smells like teen spirit (lounge)" - ragnar bjarnason - icelandic - hear it here ("music")
  21. "haiti" - the arcade fire (vivre montreal!)
  22. "yoga means union" - ambulance ltd
  23. "when you notice the stripes" - the shins
  24. "people's parties" - joni mitchell
  25. "the sound of settling" - death cab for cutie (for symmetry)
  26. "the piccolo snare" - super furry animals (bonus points if you speak welsh)
  27. "the pink life" - mike doughty
  28. "vampire bunnies" - happy anarchy
  29. "100,000 fireflies" - the magnetic fields (happy birthday stephen)
  30. "summer '68" - pink floyd
  31. "i'll fall with your knife" - peter murphy
  32. "my slumbering heart" - rilo kiley (also for symmetry)

after which 2 hours i gotta go fax some faxes.

actually, the two hours is a fair bit gone. so be grateful for the music, dammit.

The rarity of rumination

The ability to read one's own mind is a tremendous skill to have...

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

So, my dear jenn see says that i should post my thoughts here so here goes...

1) Boring lives? People live boring lives by choice, well choice and laziness, which is sort of a choice. Every time I leave my house, an adventure awaits.
2) With technology, there are all sorts of ways to leave my house, without ever leaving my house.
3) Chaos happens whether we like it or not. Entropy, you know, the second law of thermal dynamics. So why fight it?
4) I would not make a religion of chaos. Better, a religion of order. But really, why worship either?
5) People have two choices in life: they either have to accept that everything happens for a reason, for some reason, or they have to accept that everything is meaningless. Causal or random, the choice is yours.
6) Quantum theory might just be the final theory of everything, too bad I will never understand it.
7)...........
8) Always follow the instructions.
9) Never ask for directions.
10)Don't step on the mushrooms.
11) Do something that scares you everyday.
12) Sometime being a day ahead on your calendar is a beautiful thing.
13) Avalanche (as in the hockey team) fact for Feb. 9th, 2005: David Aebischer played one season for his hometown team of Fribourg in the Swiss Elite League before being selected by Colorado in the 1997 Entry Draft.
14) this is not my favorite number
15) green is my favorite color. What's yours?
16) i think i think too much

on the other hand

there is more going on than fish & light.

warning: deeply disturbing:
this public service announcement type ad stopped me in my tracks.
those un types, always working for peace. sigh.
it's strange what can come across even in these censored times.
makes me want to go call my grandmother.


Delirium, from Sandman: the Kindly Ones 12.

there she goes


here she is.
appropriate, neh?
panel from The Kindly Ones: 12; DC Comics; Gaiman, Hempel, & Case, creators.

a word about the fish

i thought i should say a little more about the nature of the fish. as i see it, anyway.

the fish is a creation of Delirium (isn't she cute?) & we wanted to make clear that despite the theft of the quote, this page isn't a tribute to the sandman comics or to neil gaiman as a writer; great as both these may be, we who are following fish have tastes & appreciations as wide as the world--collectors & forgers of tidbits of treasure, moments of beauty, litanies of observation & meditation. are we cool or what?

that, or following the fish is akin to chasing rainbows. how shall i live? this page is a gallery of sorts, where i get to wander about with a glass of champagne saying, "look at this! & this!" there's this vast miasmic metaculture blobbing around out there in the universe. we could have chosen any number of sources--ultimately, following my fish makes me happy (& is catchy to boot).

Other delicious representations of the world (many many more in days to come):

"HERE DOWN ON DARK EARTH
before we all go to Heaven
VISIONS OF AMERICA
all that hitchhikin
all that railroadin
all that comin back
to America
Via Mexican & Canadian borders..."
"Piers of the Homeless Night", Lonesome Traveler, Jack Kerouac

"It was here that the thaum, hitherto believed to be the smallest possible particle of magic, was successfully demonstrated to be made up of resons (Lit: 'Thingies') or reality fragments. Currently research indicates that each reson is itself made up of a combination of at least five 'flavors,' known as 'up,' 'down,' 'sideways,' 'sex appeal,' and 'peppermint.'"
Terry Pratchett, Lords and Ladies

"Only in silence the word,
only in dark the light,
only in dying life:
bright the hawk's flight
on the empty sky."
The Creation of Ea, A Wizard of Earthsea, Ursula K. LeGuin

"Abstract design is all right--for wallpaper or linoleum. But art is the process of evoking pity & terror. What modern artists do is pseudo-intellectual masturbation. Creative art is intercourse, in which the artist renders emotional his audience."
Jubal Harshaw, Stranger in a Strange Land, Robert Heinlein

"There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea."
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, T.S. Eliot

Monday, February 07, 2005


saturn's got hotspots baby. check out that southern polar region. hot.


actually this is apparently NOT josephine earp, who was 19 when she took up with wyatt...ah, the 19th century. it's amazing how much more time our longer lifespans actually give us.


i have not yet begun to defy myself.

"there ain't no normal life, wyatt, there's just life."

as spoken by doc holliday, as played by val kilmer, in the movie tombstone, which was just on tv. i have had wine & ravioli & have to call my mother; life is good. i'm your huckleberry.

'scuse me, now i'm going to go watch glory.
happy hunting.

Sunday, February 06, 2005


And the butterfly flaps its wings... Posted by Hello


This is a test. This is only test. If this were an actual picture, someone would definitely be notified. But since this is a test on the internet and will live forever, I figured this non-actual picture to be appropriate. Posted by Hello

Friday, February 04, 2005


i want it to be summer