Thursday, June 30, 2005

ambiguous fish because i don't want to give away my master plan

it has never been so clear...

i can actually see the beginning of the tunnel, the light must be at the end...

i've got a lot of hard work ahead of me...

i know it will be worth it...

quick fish

i'm s'posed to be doing about 80 different things right now, but i have to say:

go see War of the Worlds. it's intense.

even with the Spielbergian cheat at the end. i could totally forgive that. that man knows his aliens.

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

onion fish

addendum on the theme of time, i stole this from emily.

open the window with volume; it'll speak to you from the future.

a fish for mysfit

go on, then, darling, chop off its head & add it to time soup.

according to an article in the NY Times, "A Remembrance of Things Future", which yes you need to register to read:
Space and time, some quantum gravity theorists say, are most likely a sort of illusion - or less sensationally, an "approximation" - doomed to be replaced by some more fundamental idea. If only they could think of what that idea is.

apparently many theoretical physicists believe that now is the appropriate time (hah! what?) for such a fundamental idea to emerge, that a new insight into time - or beyond it - may be required to crack profound problems like how the universe began, what happens at the center of black hole or how to marry relativity and quantum theory into a unified theory of nature.

because as mysfit & i have known for a long time, "Physics gets time wrong, and time is the most familiar thing there is" .

this is a fascinating article, so if you can, read it, but if you're a lazy fish, like me, here's some key points.

the problems with current physics & its approach to time can be summarized thus:

time becomes a function of an event, like distance or velocity. "There is a feeling in philosophy," he said, "that this picture leaves no room for locutions about flow and the passage of time we experience."

there is also the (fanfare please) Arrow of Time, e.g. The fundamental laws of physics don't care what direction time goes. so then what about the distinction between future & past?

& of course, how the hell are we supposed to unify the theories of relativity with quantum mechanics? they don't jive. Relativity is smooth & serene, like an aging aristocrat. Quantum mechanics throws raucous keg parties in her parlor. so what about the beginning of the universe, when everything was so small that quantum has to apply? even old ladies were young once.
Looked at closely enough, with an imaginary microscope that could see lengths down to 10-33 centimeters, quantum gravity theorists say, even ordinary space and time dissolve into a boiling mess that Dr. John Wheeler, the Princeton physicist and phrasemaker, called "space-time foam."

so then what about superstring theory? music of the spheres & all that?
according to the article, Physicists say they have a sense of how space can emerge, because of recent advances in string theory, the putative theory of everything, which posits that nature is composed of wriggling little strings.

Calculations...have shown how an extra dimension of space can pop mathematically into being almost like magic, the way the illusion of three dimensions can appear in the holograms on bank cards. But string theorists admit they don't know how to do the same thing for time yet.

ooh, goody, extra dimensions. so when do we start talking about wormholes?

Somewhat to Einstein's surprise, in general relativity it is possible to beat a light beam across space. That theory, which Einstein finished in 1916, said that gravity resulted from the warping of space-time geometry by matter and energy, the way a bowling ball sags a trampoline. And all this warping and sagging can create shortcuts through space-time...but physicists dismissed them because calculations predicted that gravity would slam them shut...

some physicists have imagined that such holes could be kept from collapsing and thus maintained to be used as a galactic subway, at least in principle, by threading them with something called Casimir energy, which is a sort of quantum suction produced when two parallel metal plates are placed very close together. According to Einstein's equations, this suction, or negative pressure, would have an antigravitational effect, keeping the walls of the wormhole apart.

If one mouth of a wormhole was then grabbed by a spaceship and taken on a high-speed trip, according to relativity, its clock would run slow compared with the other end of the wormhole. So the wormhole would become a portal between two different times as well as places...

These speculations have been bolstered (not that time machine architects lack imagination) with the unsettling discovery that the universe may be full of exactly the kind of antigravity stuff needed to grow and prop open a wormhole. Some mysterious "dark energy," astronomers say, is pushing space apart and accelerating the expansion of the universe. The race is on to measure this energy precisely and find out what it is.

(giggles maniacally) a race against time, neh?

have the brain cells for an abstract on "Phantom energy traversable wormholes"? but be warned that nobody knows if phantom, or exotic, energy is really allowed in nature and most physicists would be happy if it is not.

(you can click on these graphics & read them okay, but the article has full versions available.)

in conclusion, Farscape was definitely on to something with the (angry salute) Wormhole Weapon: In another recent paper, Dr. Amos Ori of the Technion-Israel Institute of Technology in Haifa describes a time machine that he claims can be built by moving around colossal masses to warp the space inside a doughnut of regular empty space into a particular configuration, something an advanced civilization may be able to do in 100 or 200 years...Random microscopic fluctuations in matter and energy and space itself, they argue, would be amplified by going around and around boundaries of the machine or the wormhole, and finally blow it up.

so...really...what is time soup?
i dunno. ask mysfit.

"By convention there is space, by convention time," Dr. David J. Gross, director of the Kavli Institute for Theoretical Physics and a winner of last year's Nobel Prize, said recently, paraphrasing the Greek philosopher Democritus, "in reality there is. ... ?" his voice trailing off.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

holy herring-nets, batman!

5000 fish! it makes me feel bubbly. who would have thought?

secretly i'm a million-dollar fish

I am worth $1,457,300 on

just thought i'd share that. courtesy of Casual Friday.

"the outlaw who almost became sheriff" - from the chaos journals

you can blame chemical billy for getting me on a hunter s. thompson kick - so if you are offended bitch to her - personally, i find it fascinating, if slightly bizarre, to take your handle from the name of a can of mace dangerously perched in the hands of the likes of hunter s. thompson - i like it.

i can remember the first time i ever heard of this rampaging mad-journalist of such renown that i couldn't even get near his funeral - even if i tried. the great gonzo-fist carrying his ashes has come crashing down on my head and left me dizzy. but that's a different story.

it was the mid-nineties and i had just stepped onto the hallowed grounds of boulder high school where i was to have many adventures, some not proper for prime-time television. these were formative years in my developing mistrust of humans and their natures and i was wont to seek out freaks and grommets among the crowds of clones that the mostly white, mostly middle class school offered me as classmates.

we routinely staged fake fights and scream tests in the lunch room. i let friends push me down stairs in the science wing because it was a family tradition and one day smirf and I followed someone around for an entire day declaring loudly that he was the messiah. we got really mad when we realized he was just leading us astray.

so when told to write a history paper on the recorded actions of a prominent group in history, the young fresh-faced youth that i was, i chose the hell's angels. suddenly everywhere i turned was hunter s. thompson. sure there was one, maybe two books not written by our hero, but does it matter? into my little brain came the voice of history, of vice and virtue, of innocence and corruption and of course, the melodrama you read here is all his fault.

many years later i would watch Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas while sitting on top of the tv painting the ceiling flesh colored, don't ask, and the man whom johnny depp mimicked so well, came home to me. there he was, bastion of vice and the american dream, pursuing the enlightenment of freedom to lift her skirt and let him ravish her. and this had already happened. this was all true. it gave me hope that the wild freedom could be reclaimed. that we had not lost all the marrow of democracy.

so now more than ten years after my first encounter with the strange and drug-enhanced non-fiction, i pick up the last book hunter wrote, The Kingdom of Fear, and read about his life in my country. it may be that he is the original inspiration for the chaos journals, because i can think of none earlier.

see, it is the nature of the chaos journals that as i read more insightful writing, there is less work for me to do. this blogging phenomena has opened up dialogues between insightful people all across the world and now that we have lost the outlaw who nearly became a sheriff, i think there is more work in america for the chaos journals than ever before.

america is still trying to figure out a way to censor websites from other countries, to lay our laws on their heads, as if america had the right to rule the world. america is no longer the golden land of dreams. america no longer is the place where, in a very zen way, an individual could listen to the voices within and be whomever came out as long as it didn't interfere with others.

we've over-defined 'interfere' in this country. somehow, if i do something you disagree with, my life may interfere with yours even if i live three states and 2500 miles away. the people have lost the ear of the leaders and the leaders have lost the common touch. no election has been democratic since we became locked into a two-party system, both of which are rich, white and old. old - this country is full of young people who want to taste the sweet freedom of democracy and feel the pain of their mistakes but are tied into watching out for everyone else's children.

hunter s. thompson brings up a very good point about protests, they're always about hope and faith that those we protest against are listening, even if they give no indication. that they are open to hearing our opinions. but Bush ignored the anti-war protests as the entirely inconsequential mutterings of cowardly pro-terrorists pagans who are no doubt, unpatriotic. i may be a pagan, but i am certainly not pro-terrorist and i'd like to think of myself as not being cowardly. i am however a nationalist and think that a protest is the ultimate show of patriotism.

but i have swerved somewhat from my point and really don't have the time to tackle what may have to be the next chapter: the "what do we do?" question.

Monday, June 27, 2005

sadness in hundred acre wood

rest in peace, tigger & piglet.

the men behind their voices died within days of each other.


chapters ongoing

from the battered old journal of yesterday's fish...

Chapter 6: Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came

hands ache
from cracked red plates
of snow--
is no use as a shovel.

which hero would you be?
the cat a haiku,
white on white on the balcony.

we built a snow-pirate
after they wrestled
on ice
for the right hat.

there is a recurring character here.
shovel-battles were waged
over his place.

suddenly all pedestrians
were comrades
& all drivers
at war.

Chapter 7: not quite zeugma

patterns are formed by turning bricks vertical, geometry is revealed which seems to have meaning, here in the clay in the snow in the dark running parallel to the moon.


after a series of red rooms
a man
filled the frame of the door
in red & gold,
stood for some time
in red shoes &
snow sequins.

what i was really doing
was dancing
in snow i'd never
seen before.

sing to me you men of those throats & arms.
you sound better than you sound.

inside the fish

because even i'm getting tired of all the nostalgia, i thought i'd call the attention of the fish to a few things i've been following on & off for some time.

a kind of character sketch:
i don't remember where i heard about the snowsuit effort, but it was definitely in the blogosphere somewhere, so i apologize for not giving credit.
i definitely want this one noticed though, intellectual copyright or no.
i used to make a point to talk as extensively as possible (e.g. however long i could stand it before really weird things would happen) to the local homeless population. i haven't really discovered one here in SI, & Manhattan ones are kinda a species of their own whose language i haven't learned yet. but in Atlantic City & New Brunswick i became very familiar with Crazy Bob on his bicycle, Crazy Mary for 50 cents or a dollar, Rocking-back-and-forth Man who talked to angels, & so on. & i've been known to trade cigarettes to strangers in exchange for taking their photo. but i've never really combined the two--& the Snowsuit Effort (wherever did the title come from) has been more than a little inspiring in that regard.

Rocking-back-and-forth Man.

it's not what it sounds like:
i'm at the point now where i don't listen to the radio, unless i'm in oldben's car & he's got the XM on, & i don't read Rolling Stone or any other music mags with the occasional exception of the slightly more credible CMJ, because i'm sick to death of crappy music, & hearing about crappy music, especially when there seems to be so much good music out there.
The Shins Will Change Your Life is an ongoing tribute to the hype that miasmically pours out of music critics like a drainspout out of the mouth of a gargoyle. if you read too much of it you have to occasionally remind yourself that these reviews were meant, in their original context, to be taken seriously.

snail-mail confessionals:
call it the renaissance of the postcard. me, i have a thing for postcards, & though my collection isn't on display at the moment, i've recently given some serious thought as to what i could do with it. some of this is the result of Post Secret, one of the most innovative things to be done with blogs so far, in my opinion. have a deep dark secret? something you'll never tell,'ve thought about perfect anonymity?
create a bit of art with it. design a post card to your secret. mail it in. say 5 hail marys & be absolved...

everyone does it:
everyone with a camera, anyway. The Mirror Project is an interesting experiment in self-portraiture & a fascinating glimpse into the way humans view themselves. & in case you're wondering, no, i haven't submitted yet. there's a particular photo i've been offhandedly looking for...

repeating myself:
i know i've mentioned them before, but in my mind anything that makes me feel even slightly politically empowered is refreshing. so: if you live in the states, investigate True Majority (founded by the inimitable Ben of Ben & Jerry's) & Save Our Environment. both organizations will send missives to our governing body on a variety of concerns. admittedly they both have a liberal bent, but, really, the environment's for everybody, right? all the fishies on this planet...

edit: there was one more i forgot to mention. there's a groovy website called graffiti archeology--which i can't seem to spell to my satisfaction right now--which has images of certain walls & underpasses over time. navigating the site's a bit tricky at first (at least for me) but worth it.
end transmission: 4:19 pm. excuse me there's something i must attend to.

one dead fish - a eulogy

today, i have finally decided to abandon my side project which none of you (save carl v.) even knew existed - even though i brought it up many times and directed people to it, pleaded with people to notice, no one cared. eventually i stopped caring too. it had a good run for a while - it was a good idea gone awry and, as many writers know, it is important to identify good ideas that go bad or just go nowhere and bury them deep underground where they can hurt no one - it didn't work the way i wanted it to, so i killed it. tis a sad day and no one but me will notice.

on a lighter note, watch this video (it sparked a diplomatic incident and is very funny)

Sunday, June 26, 2005

location, location, location.

my environment of late has seemed to encourage contemplation of time & nostalgia, via everything from locations to dates to sounds to...well. you know. environment.

on this day 1976, facing East on a sunny mountainside in Boulder, my parents were married among friends, family, & the sky. the ceremony was modest & Scientologist; the ampitheater was warm, & a beautiful place for beginnings.

june 26, 1976.

Sunrise Ampitheater, Flagstaff Mountain, Boulder, Colorado.

today more than ever i'm grateful to my parents for their unflinching honesty & kindness; it's calming to remember a day, though i didn't see it, on which love & truth really did bind two people together.

besides, if they hadn't, i wouldn't be here.

Friday, June 24, 2005

fairy tale fish

real quick, just to say there's tantalizing trailerness floating about for Terry Gilliam's The Brothers Grimm. okay, it's got matt damon in it. yes, yes, the announcer makes it sound like an action flick.

but if i haven't got faith in Gilliam's absurd genius, then i might as well get shut of the whole movie thing right now.

one short fish: a dedicated fish for fun-fish

carl v, i dedicate this post to you, our loyal fish-follower, as you have indirectly asked me for the story of this piano and whether i was going to do the 100-word story. so here you go - remember a picture is worth 10x that much.... For those of you not in the know, Lisa Snellings-Clark and Bob Podrasky have issued the challange. The stories must be stories exactly 100 words in length and no word can be repeated.


"the piano has been drinking, not me" Tom Waits' gravel voice expands, overpowering comedy club exaltations issued from throaty drunken college kids out for an evening of fun. Thursday Night - official party time - half-priced drinks.

"Beer will stumble you right enough but whiskey brings down stars" to make his point, he swings long arms in slow circles ending clumsily upon fake ivory, releasing discordant notes, like fleeing felons, into freedom. I reel, face flushed with childish joy as fingers find keys; feet feel dance steps.

We left melody by roadsides, careened through tuneless stop signs. And never made it home.

a fish is born

Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime.

~William Shakespeare

today is my mother's birthday (i won't tell you what year; my mother is actually ageless) & i know she follows her fish so i thought i'd wish her well here.

my mother in the 70's.

me mum is a singularly beautiful woman with an uncommon reservoir of strength. i'm very fortunate to have an excellent relationship with her; our friendship in genuine & goes beyond mere mother-daughter ties.

besides, i'm so very like her.

my mother in may.

i only wish i could somehow demonstrate to her that she's as beautiful now as she ever was, & she shouldn't worry so much.

happy birthday, mum, i'm sure you know that i hope for many many more.


(ahem) "& now for something completely different!"
it's also Ambrose Bierce's birthday, as revealed to me by carl v.

Ambrose Bierce, born June 24, 1842.

so a few quotes from the Devil's Dictionary, one of history's cleverest examples of satire:

Admiration, n. Our polite recognition of another's resemblance to ourselves.

Birth, n. The first and direst of all disasters.

Egotist, n. A person of low taste, more interested in himself than in me.

Yesterday, n. The infancy of youth, the youth of manhood, the entire past of age.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

the fish flashes back

stealthily lifted from forgottenmachine, because i like to think about time.

10 years ago:
was actually a really bloody awful time in my life. i'd have been just finishing up my freshman year of high school in Atlantic City. the student population, in fits of end-of-the-year joy, were setting trash cans on fire & calling in bomb scares (eventually the fire department stopped responding to the alarms, & teachers would extinguish the fires themselves & go right back Drawing or Chemistry or whathaveyou.) i was reeling from a catastrophic experience that led all my "friends" at the time abandoning me as a liar & a slut, the faithless bastards. all except one girl who knew the truth &, incredibly, stood up for me. we weren't even all that close before that. but in the future of ten years ago, we'd spend the summer, a dynamic duo, on day trips to Ocean City, being alcholics, discovering the weird experience of marijuana (in the back fields of Maryland, & in the plastic bubble at the top of the slide on the playground next to the Margate Police station--what, i didn't say i was a bright teenager. my sheer foolishness neared enlightenment at times.) Ah, Monique, wherever are you now?

a younger jenn see, June 1995.

5 years ago:
my hair was the shortest it's ever been. i'd have just moved back from doing my time in the Midwest, having lived in Indiana for a year. i lived at home for a month, the longest stint since the spring i turned 17, & just being within smelling distance of the ocean was like the nectar of the gods, & i'll never forgetting taking the man we saved from Indiana (we said, "screw this. you're coming with us. New Jersey deserves you.") down to see the ocean for the first time. i couldn't even fathom it, 21 years old & never saw the sea. it was a beautiful moment. by the end of June, i would have made the fateful move to New Brunswick, thus beginning a strange & surreal chapter in the saga that is me. (hah! i'm a saga now, am i?)

the ocean at last, June 2000.

1 year ago:
i'd have been living in New Brunswick with mysfit & oldben. we had a balcony, & a psychotic white cat (with therapy & medical treatment she's become able to live a normal kitty life, except that she seems to think a certain pair of my socks are her kittens) & another cluster of our friends living down the street, close enough to be neighbors. there were militias of cute, hyperactive Hispanic children, a rock & roll house across the street, & an Irish pub full of punks & pool tables just down the block. there was a media glut, a sudden influx of Stephen King's The Dark Tower, & drinks at the Old Bay's beer garden. there were Happy Anarchy shows, & a cocktail party around the home-built bar in the big room on Joyce Kilmer Ave. there was the most recent in a long line of car wrecks, & the resulting death of my Neon, La Luna. there was the Borgata, sabayon, birthday parties & surprise guests, the Hungarian Festival, thunderstorms & Harry Potter, melodrama, t-shirt making, & the beach, Lawrence of Arabia, cell phones, & the first gig of Staten Island's only jug band. the joys were in the details.

cocktail party, June 2004.

yesterday i was on a quest for anime con photos (since all mine got eaten--chomp). yesterday a sudden tsunami-like thunderstorm pummelled my windows with water & knocked over all my plants. i love summer. yesterday i felt very Audrey Hepburn. yesterday i got to carry my umbrella around Williamsburg. yesterday i saw dancers in a reflecting pool, a psychotic vaudeville-with-a-goth-twist puppet show (ah, weirdness for weirdness's sake), & bands that did great things involving brass. yesterday i kept losing my shoes. yesterday the reflecting pool was cloudier than it was last year, & the seated figure sculpture was gone. yesterday young girls danced with floating candles in water to a tribal drum. yesterday they were handing out free hot dogs. yesterday i met gentlemen who i dubbed "Sunglasses" & "Hat". yesterday was the first time ever that a stranger winged a HA cd at my head (don't worry, they missed. drunk donkeys.)

thunderstorm, 22 June 2005.

i play with galapagos photos (yes, the tourist has them). i drink coffee. i wake up to warm kisses. i learn that in the middle of the night i said "DO NOT EAT THE PILLOWS" very seriously. i watch Speedgrapher 9 & 10 & Bleach 37. i write this instead of being productive. i misspell "galapagos" fifty times. i plan a picnic. i stage a lightning trip to the grocery store. i locate the missing Bubblegum Crisis cd. i call my mother about Colorado. i look forward to the evening.

the Martini Red show will be packed ("pegged"--long story) & go late. the projector may be involved somehow. the new jug band baby will not be in attendance. i'll snap another couple hundred photos. i will stop shedding skin like a snake (little bit of positive thinking there). i will spend some of the afternoon in the sunshine. i will remember to schedule my doctor's appointments. i will try to answer the 100-word challenge. i will take joy in my summery existence.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

fast fish quotes followed to odd places

i have to say there's a part of me that wants to see a Great White in the water off the Jersey Shore. not, you know, eating people or anything, just kinda being there.
Bob Schoelkopf, director of the Marine Mammal Stranding Center in Brigantine, New Jersey said photos of the wound confirmed it could only have been made by a Great White. Schoelkopf said there was no reason for people to change their swimming habits because of the latest incident, noting "there's a greater chance of getting hit by lightning" than of being bitten by a shark.

i can think of any number of unusual things to do with fish, but hiding them in my skirt had never occurred to me. then again , i'm not Australian...
While examining the 43-year-old woman's bags...officials reportedly heard "flipping noises from the vicinity of her waist".

9-foot-long sturgeons are ruining plans to create a gambling barge. the image that comes to mind is a Maverick-style showdown.
The Silver Slipper could be one of the first gambling properties to take advantage of a new state law that allows putting casino barges on pilings - if a fish doesn't get in the way.

& now they're modeling cars after fish.
With the sort of journalistic initiative too rare in today's hurly-burly world, we asked this authentic Australian ichthyologist what he thought about the Bionic Fish Car.

& if you're emotionally invested in the origins of fish, i.e. the process of evolution & whatnot, & if you're tired of the Scopes Monkey Trials ("shall inherit the wind... etc.) then you may enjoy this open letter to the debate in Kansas on whether "intelligent design" should be taught. actually, you're interested no matter what your views. trust me.

that's all from Fish News Central's command center for today. i leave you with this to ponder:

In the Second Scroll of Wen the Eternally Surprised, a story is written concerning one day when the apprentice Clodpool, in a rebellious mood, approached Wen and spake thusly:
"Master, what is the difference between a humanistic, monastic system of belief in which wisdom is sought by means of an apparently nonsensical system of questions and answers, and a lot of mystic gibberish made up on the spur of the moment?"
Wen considered this for some time, and at last said: "A fish!"
And Clodpool went away, satisfied.

--from Thief of Time, Terry Pratchett. (you can read an excerpt of the first chapter there.)

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

anime fish

spent the weekend at an anime con, with a brief side trip to a mansion in Marlborough, NJ. unfortunately, my photos of the weekend are severely limited. it's all technology's fault: it deceives us into thinking it's reliable.
the short story is that all 300 or so images were erased about an hour before we left.
i'm trying to be philosophical about it.

in spite of that, i had a grand old time. those people love to be photographed, & i had a marvelous experience obliging them. i had a costume briefly (resurrected the halloween Witch Hunter Robin getup) but mostly it was high school kids with too much time on their hands. appropriate, though, since most anime seems to revolve around highschool kids. besides, we had a projector hooked up to a laptop in the Hotel Suite, & got a fair dose of all the anime you could want. i swear i ought to have learned Japanese by osmosis at this point.

& i came home with a Kuroneko-sama bobble head doll; no such silly item ought to make me grin so profusely.

quick fish

mysfit's quote of the day:

A positive attitude may not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort.
-Herm Albright

Sunday, June 19, 2005

in nomine patris piscis.

my father & i.

wanted to say happy father's day to daddies everywhere.
thinking about my father, i'd have to say he'd be pleased with me & my life, with who i am, & also more than a little frustrated. more or less how i feel about it.

i've definitely got a thing about father-daughter relationships. i do wish less of it was hypothetical, but we take what we get.

& i don't think anyone stops missing a father who's gone, which only goes to prove my point.

post-script: i've talked here about my father before, in re: military life, childhood film, & in memoriam.

Angel of Propaganda

this poem appeared first in the "Poets Against The War" in 2003 and was republished by Happy Anarchy Books in "bookshape - from the Chaos Journals" ©2003 by mysfit--(as always, the spacing is a bit sparse as bloggy hates spacing)

Angel of Propaganda

Opening her eyes to the star-shaped Sky
she adjusts her wings of Justice,
puts on her crown of Righteousness,
grasps her staff of Freedom,
and POOF!
God Bless America, Dear

she was dreaming western dreams
of manifest destiny
and behind the guise of Indignation
she responds by carving flags
before prophets, pleading:
“The End is near!
Don’t be the End!” they proclaim
but overhead, the world holds its breath

and i don’t know if i should
duck—-hide my face from
4th of July shoot-outs and
Did you know she was
sleeping in the gutter—-Magnificence

i wish i had enough money to decide the fate of millions
i’d tell them to eat
cheerios for breakfast
and democracy for lunch,
breathe dictators to sand
and take up verbal arms against...
Hypocrisy of course
watching like sacred whitewash
through sheltered Homeland pews

and they worship strange gods
you say
and they fight religious battles
behind our backs
like eyes-closed Relations of
if you’d only Listened

i wish i had the money to decide Fate
during Riots fought for Movements
she waves her hand to
other countries, well-wished
she flaps her Wings to
create enough wind to
wash the grime off city streets,
making the buildings
Gleam Holy
but through the destruction
i want to see hope

not this

Friday, June 17, 2005

"How to Succeed in the Spy Business Without Really Trying" or "Rub-a-Dub-Dub...Three Spies in a Sub" or "Where-What-How-Who Am I?"

This is mysfit reporting for the fish.

In light of recent developments regarding the Bush White House and the investigation surrounding the War in Iraq, I present the following picture:


Don't let this man fool you, I never believed he was as dumb as he looked, nor as he seemed. It's easy to dismiss someone's actions and overlook what's going on if you frame them as a laughable (possibly even lovable**) idiot. For an example: Maxwell Smart of Get Smart.

An excellent if mostly inept spy, if I may say so, and a wonderful show, but Max Smart saved the day often because he was so lucky that the badguys (not the sharpest tools in the shed either) dismissed him as an outright idiot - (which he often was, but that's besides the point, he was dumbly clever, or cleverly dumb - whichever you like).

It seems that Bush's luck maybe running short. With troops still dying trying to police Iraq and Bush criticizing the Iranian elections, saying: "Today, Iran is ruled by men who suppress liberty at home and spread terror across the world," Bush said in a statement distributed by the White House. (Sound familiar?) - Bush's popularity even among those who originally supported him and the war is waning.

People say "we won the war too quickly" and that's why there was no exit plan. But isn't winning the war quickly a good thing? Why would you start a war without a plan of winning? Especially since it seems that Bush was planning this war since before he was elected: "We will build our defenses beyond challenge, lest weakness invite challenge. We will confront weapons of mass destruction, so that a new century is spared new horrors." (From his inaugural speech, January 2001).

So now there is a secret memo of the minutes of a secret meeting between the British Prime Minister and the US President from about a year before we went to war, which has sparked an investigation into the events leading up to the war. I wonder if they used a Cone-of-Silence at the meeting:

All joking aside, this is an investigation that probably should have happened a few years ago and we'll just have to see if this results in "impeachment". The term has been thrown back and forth for most of the years that Bush has been in office, but this could be serious if this investigation proves that the president, vice-president, etc, mislead Congress or "that the intelligence and the facts were indeed fixed around the policy, and we sent our troops to war under dubious pretenses," (from an article at Either offense is not only abhorrent but "would violate federal criminal law, including the Federal Anti-Conspiracy Statute which makes it a felony, (quote), "to commit any offense against the United States or to defraud the United States or any agency thereof in any manner or for any purpose", and the False Statements Accountability Act of 1996, which makes it a felony to issue knowingly and willfully false statements to the United States Congress." (John Bonifaz, attorney and co-founder of in an interview on DemocracyNow!).

There seems to be enough evidence to put President Bush and Vice-President on trial, and even if it is not true, they should have to stand and defend themselves, under oath, against formal accusations - just like the rest of us would have to do in such circumstances.

It's definitely nice to see that our corporate media is actually picking up this story - though coverage is not as thorough as a story of this magnitude seems to merit. Isn't the even the possibility of the President having mislead the Congress (and the nation) with "fixed" intelligence information more important and interesting to the American people than Michael Jackson's trial?

This is mysfit signing off, with hope, disgust and, of course, apathy.

Thursday, June 16, 2005

can this fish be for real?

i'm sorry, but whether it's true or no, this just makes me giddy.

thought it was a tourist but it really was a fish

since the photo of mysfit & the moon seemed to tickle the tourists, i thought i'd post a few others from the same night, taken at the time with mysfit's digital camera. (besides, summer makes me nostalgic for the hometown, where i could go without shoes all summer, & swim in whatever i happened to be wearing.) er, the ones i'm in, mysfit took, & the ones she's in, i took. (most of them, if i remember correctly, involved trying to get that enormous wool scarf to billow in a fashion appropriate to the scene.) i originally posted this on the tourist, but it seemed to want to be here. so.

all photos march 2004, at the jetty on the Margate Beach, NJ.


i do so love that red scarf.

commanding mysfit

oldben hangs with the moon. (mysfit definitely caught this one.)

this particular pier/jetty in Margate, at about Essex Avenue, is for me one of those locations from your youth that you hang on to, that lingers. the ocean bit in mysfit's Faery Tales? here. the place to drink beer & (ugh) mad dog 20/20 at 16? here. where do i bring people when they first see the beach in my hometown? here. so i thought i'd share.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

ephemeral fish.

when mysfit fished up Frank Lloyd Wright a small while ago, i immediately thought of my younger brother, who's studying architecture out at Carnegie Mellon. one of his projects was to design a residence for a specific artist; he chose Andy Goldsworthy, thereby proving his coolness yet again. (the house was fascinating, & somewhat labyrinthine, with this whole room built into the network of roots under a tree, creating a natural environment. i'd go into it further, but not without Official Permission.)

i first encountered Goldsworthy when i was living with a sculptor in New Brunswick, in the House that the Devil & Lou Built. which is a story for another day; i need to be feeling pretty vitriolic for that one. anyway, one of the few episodes of communication that occurred in this accursed house was when my roomie, let's call him B, uncharacteristically took an interest in my tastes & brought out a book of Goldsworthy's photographs for me to see.

it's amazing sculpture, all within a natural environment; he calls it "participating." he's perfectly aware of the ephemeral nature of his work; he photographs it when complete, & then abandons it back to nature. i love it. not to mention that the clarity, color, & geometry of his work appeal to something in my gut that does a little dance when it recognizes this kind of form.

here's another link or two to keep the images flowing, though i was unable to google any of my favorites (which i can't describe exactly but would remember immediately if i saw them.)

now if you'll excuse me, i have to go turn Nick Cave into Tom Waits.

postscript: speaking of amazing artists, carl v. has kindly pointed out that Mirrormask (which has been living in the sidebar since the dawn of fish) finally has a release date.

a brimful of fishies

highlark demands that you listen up.

happy anarchy
fri 6/17 10pm
429 south street
phila pa

download the show flyer, print out many copies, and distribute them amongst your friends and colleagues. abilene is one jumpin joint in one jumpin town, let me tell you. even if you're a hundred miles away you should still come to this show. i have to remember to call tara about this one. tommy bendel should come, too.
pics from the dc trip and the past couple of new york shows are up. i'd like to call your attention to our website,, as well as jenn see's tourist of everything. just scroll down.
we'll be returning to galapagos next wed, 6/22 in williamsburg. we like the int'l cork crew and these shows always kick. the club is really chill, too, one of my favorites places to play. last time we were there a transvestite rabbit showed up. really far out.

don't forget to follow your fish and please remember that everyody needs a bosom for a pillow.

see us:
write us:


Tuesday, June 14, 2005

my fish is having fun at work and getting paid for it

(don't let the title fool you, i'm not actually having fun doing work - in fact even my manager said that it seems like some of the people we have been "helping" with computer problems are drinking - sometimes distractions are a form of survival)

did i mention that i hate mornings? so to distract myself from the fact that it is, in fact, only 9:30a.m., i am generating some interesting things i'd like to share with all you little fishies - maybe these'll help you get through the day some morning.

first and foremost, (one of my favorite beginnings, i might say), maybe you are an enterprising entrepreneur, a lazy CEO, or simply bored with the desire to find a direction in life/business/company/blog... perhaps you can benefit from Catbert Random Mission Statement Generator. Here's a few that changed my life - well, at least my view of the day:

"Our mission is to continue to authoritatively engineer enterprise-wide opportunities while continuing to conveniently promote cost effective information while promoting personal employee growth"

"We envision to interactively simplify value-added intellectual capital to set us apart from the competition "

"We exist to efficiently simplify prospective content while maintaining the highest standards"

welcome to the future my friends. look at your hands - you know that beneath that peach, brown, tan, (or whatever color the spongy material designed to imitate skin) exterior lies a matrix of metal and wires designed to act like muscles and bone and somewhere in your chest a little gerbil is getting tired. give it a rest - find out what you were originally programmed to do. this amazing Cyborg Name generator will give you direction in your life, (even if Catbert failed you), by informing you of the acronym your name actually stands for:

(i am actually tempted to get a t-shirt with this on it).

So there are a number of generators all over the net - random number generator, papal name generator, Corporate Gibberish Generator (We here at the fish have proven we know that it is better to maximize intuitively than to generate strategically. We apply the proverb "He who hesitates is lost" not only to our nano-vertical re-sizing but our aptitude to syndicate.), etc. - but i found a place right here in the blogosphere where you can find them all - or at least most of them.

for hours of unproductive fun, follow your fish to THE GENERATOR BLOG

In closing and probably very personal notes - oldben this one's for you: The Rock Star Name Generator, (mine is Cybil Ivory, if you can believe that) and if someone could pass this on to the tall, skinny evil genius we all know and love, i'd be much obliged: EvilPlan Generator

Friday, June 10, 2005

Fractured faery tales of south street

every fish must bow to a personal request - so here you go luv - the first time i ever walked down South Street in Philly, Pennsylvania, USA; i knew i was going to live there some day - and i still know that...

(February 27, 1999)

There was madness in the air
Late that afternoon
And the sun set
In neon drops of rain,
The Autocade passed beneath
The barricades blazing blue
“You’ve got to be kidding me . . .”
“The president of what?”
The idea of a shot rang out
In the silence of the night
But we watched him pull away
Trailing his crown of brass.

In this kingdom of smoke-filled avenues
And graveyards of dying art,
A garden graced with broken pottery
And games played out in glass,
I wished to find my solitude
Hiding in vintage shops
Or set on dusty book-shelves
Stocked with Byron and Dr. Martins,
There, sitting next to sleeping cats
With vampyres round each corner,
“Do you believe in coincidences?”

South Street heard me coming
And put on its prettiest facade:
A conundrum of passing faces;
Bobby Burns lost himself to diner coffee
And left his book in the piercing shop.
I see poems of red spikes on blonde boys
And ladies dressed in velvet with evening cigars,
Eyes, there and black leather pants
Following our gazes across the street.

As we passed ages
Folded into smoky crystals
And tunnels of the ocean to infinity,
It struck me,
Here they were dressed for dancing
There, framed in red and black lace,
I’d lost my mind to the mountains’ gold
And my heart to the nighttime silver,
I fell in love
To the tune of candle shops, scented oils
And planted fluorescent lights,
That grow like weeds
Between headstones of buried creativity
And sugar sweet memories.

You dream of dying white picket fences
And smiles in carefully crafted waterfalls
While giants roam the land dressed in steel.
I take my late night coffee white
But my late night sky is purple.
“Do you smoke?
Would you like to?”
I ask the ghosts of Philly
As the hunters become the hunted
And signs tell of other things:
Of army green laughing eyes
And bizarre embracing lovers
Sold on our polluted shores.
I tell you this my friend,
The faeries dance across the waves
And your illusions play their lonely games
In painted shells on painted sands
While you smoke in the shadows of old.

My perfect images of perfect eyes,
One of shadow, one of sound,
And one of Dali painting souls,
Dance with Atlantic City lights
While the Stonecutter gets drunk
With the punks of street corners
And poets exist in all dreams.
We tried to drown our sorrows
In bottomless cups of diner coffee
But some filtered in with the cream and sugar
So we waited for the sun to rise
Before driving over the bridge toward home,
The shadows chased us through Cure lyrics
And we lost our way on the other side,
But that, my dear,
Is an entirely different story.

a fish responds...


with verdant potential
you welcomed me
and I, humbled and
donned vest’ments of ivy
the trappings of office
worn In your service

i’ve loved you since…
i’ve chased you since…
and with no small amount
of hesitance
i have sought
your perfect pastures
bloated and ripe

cash this check
for a quarter million
largest I’ve ever written
and await the advent
of your own doom’s day
by your beloved
your faithless masses

in droves I came
to bury my heart
in your wounded earth
and now
despite and because of
you bleed thru my adding machines
and my printing machines

i stood dressed like you
i stood motionless like you
and now I’ve devoured you
i stand alone hunched
over these
my unintentional killing fields

inspired by this photo...

silly quiz, fish are for kids.

Your wise quote is:


Yes indeed, you see true strength can only be
seen when a person has "fallen". Only
then one can tell how they will handle it. Just
don't make others fall so you can know who they
really are. You on the other hand may be a very
quick recoverer and don't let people bring you
down. You are your own, and you're find with
that. Emotional issues are something you handle
rather nicely.
What wise quote fits you?
brought to you by Quizilla

(it's kinda sad that i had to fix the grammar on this thing. i'm bored, what? suddenly i got very ill & had to nix all plans of leaving the house this afternoon.)

Your Lightsaber is Blue

Blue is often associated with depth and stability.
It symbolizes trust, loyalty, wisdom,
confidence, and truth.

What Colored Lightsaber Would You Have?
brought to you by Quizilla

improvisational fish

some context for monkey off the top of my head (delving deeper isn't going to happen this weekend, either.)

when every gap in the bridge expands
to hold the moonlight & drop our seatbelts

when the last dollar decays at the bottom of things
when i am swallowed by starships
i tell you What is the truth

ingenuity: how to look without seeming to look

i had a dream of nanobots
& now they're on the news
i am the news
daisies on the lip of a sinkhole

convention: i held his hand while the jedi died
me & my two dollar shoes

they steal my power a little at a time
mission: a skirt that reveals my knees
& colors that undress me unexpectedly

what color are your geraniums?
what planet is this?

or conversely:

i'm on a quest, i said,
for what we need from these operas of space
these synchronistic cartoons & girls
generated by thin air,
& the minds of boys
like djinn from blue bottles.

convention: i held his hand while the jedi died
me & my two dollar shoes

at that time i was aware
of the future looking back at me,
muttering like static
"you will wish you had paid attention"

my toes are not safe from sticky theaters
or warheads
or footstools anywhere;
they transform
into bulldogs and destroy my bones
& they will leave bruises
well into the eras of new children.

i'm not interested in your new children,
only dialogue
& a network of glances
& the cross hatch of fingers as i held his hand
as far far away they played & loved &
slaughtered the innocent.

of course since i'd already included jedi, you knew there'd be starships somewhere.

since i'm feeling wordy, i may as well mention this challenge, floating around via banzai cat, dinesh, forgottenmachine, & JP, to name a few. the gauntlet? ahem:

1. Click here and choose any image you like.
2. Compose your piece in less than 15 mins.
3. Post it to your blog.
4. I think for this round it might be interesting to read the piece without seeing the image first, so just provide a link to the image after the piece (note that since the website uses frames, you can get the URL for particular images by hovering over the thumbnails).

i'm probably not going to get to it till later (though in the spirit of the thing i did write the above bits in less than 15 minutes) because i have to go out into the wilds of New Jersey & find something floaty to bedeck myself with.
but i haven't heard from mysfit in a few days...

& i know for certain she's got a poem to go with this image:

the garden of broken glass.

so consider that a personal request.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

heeeeere fishy fishy

i spent the afternoon hanging out at the park with the ducks.

we have had a couple lovely black-outs here--it seems to be roving, taking the city block by block, letting go, grabbing hold again--& in order to save the beer from going bad in the warm i had to drink it all...

sing with me..."i love new york in the summmmmertiiiiiime...."
to the tune of, i dunno, Joan Jett or something.

i hope to be nearing amphibiousness later this evening by immersing myself in a swimming pool permanently.

in the midst of all this i still somehow managed to post all those HA photos from the weekend.
i did each city as its own post--man was that a pain in the ass. never doing that again.
but it's done, & the tourist is rocking out thereby.
all i can say is those boys best trot on over there & leave some damn comments. i need to feel appreciated. i need another beer.

i just have no idea how the cat can survive this weather. do fur-covered animals sweat?

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

truant in a school of fish

for the record, i just opened up Yahoo & at the top center was the line "Ashton Kutcher's social experiment"--which gave me the willies.

but a quick school of little shiny fish awaits thee:

the tourist has been updated with DC Voyage Part the First (or, our heroine & the wind-up bird) & Part the Second (or, Monuments & Swimming Pools). hold your breath for Part the Third (or, How many times can jenn see HA in a week.)

Neil Gaiman's pointed out some great photos of Ray Bradbury & an article on my favorite kind of notebook, the ultimate in artistic street cred (though i s'pose if they're writing articles on in Kentucky, that might not be true anymore. but still.)

& at long last, Japan's invented a robot suit. now the future can begin already. it's 2005, where the hell's my flying car?

& in a moment of complete & utter geek giddiness, i learned that our own dear Scorpy--er, Wayne Pygram--played Governor Tarkin in Episode III. ah, the weird little world i live in.

just wait till i get started on the Heinleiners.

& it occurred to me recently that this fish here has allowed me to do something i've always, always wanted to do:

generate interest by just being me.

so thanks for fulfilling a dream, little fishies.

happy birthday to the fishiest architect

Architecture is the triumph of Human Imagination over materials, methods, and men, to put man into possession of his own Earth. It is at least the geometric pattern of things, of life, of the human and social world. It is at best that magic framework of reality that we sometimes touch upon when we use the word 'order.' - Frank Lloyd Wright, 1930, 1937

Frank Lloyd Wright was born in Richland Center, Wisconsin on June 8, 1867. He remains one of the most imaginative and influential architects of the 20th Century. I can only imagine what he would have done with the technology we have today. As it is, he did amazing things, fusing nature and art. His inspiration was always the natural world, though his works are a triumph of artificial geometric forms.

Walking through the Guggenheim Museum in New York City is an experience I highly recommend - although when I was there in 2000, they were showing designs for a new Guggenheim - I'm not sure what they're going to do with the old building:

"Entering into the spirit of this interior, you will discover the best possible atmosphere in which to show fine paintings or listen to music. It is this atmosphere that seems to me most lacking in our art galleries, museums, music halls and theaters."
-- Frank Lloyd Wright. "Frank Lloyd Wright", The Architectural Forum, January, 1948, Vol 88 Number 1. p89.

What's really neat about the inside is that when walking through most museums - even modern art museums - you are lead from room to room and often have to retrace your steps. In this building, you are taken to the top of the inverted ziggurat (a stepped or winding pyramidal temple of Babylonian origin) by elevator. From there you can leisurely stroll down the continuous winding ramp which leads you from gallery to gallery. The center of the spiraling conch shell is totally open. The whole experience sort of washes over my memory, like waves, leaving me with a soothing feeling. This museum has seen some very interesting exhibits over the years - from Andy Warhol to the Aztec Empire. When I went there the main event, as it were, the exhibition which was most prominently displayed upon the easily spiraling ramp, was Giorgio Armani:

The strange mix of art and culture portrayed by the museum's history of exhibitions keeps consistent with Frank Lloyd Wright's vision of art and architecture, natural and artificial. I was lucky enough to go to this amazing building with my mom who is an architect as well as a painter.

Frank Lloyd Wright designed 1141 homes and buildings, of those 532 were completed by his death on April 9, 1959. Among his other works are private homes, churches and synagogues as well as the Marin County Civic Center in San Rafael, California. I've never seen a photo that does this building justice, but you get the idea:


Monday, June 06, 2005

photofish population explodes.

the fish led me south this weekend, to the fine city of DC & back up via Philadelphia.
the highlights?

alien traveling companions. roses in rest stop bathrooms. fine tulip crystal. overlooking the most Wind-Up Bird network of alleys i've ever seen, complete with wandering cat. that cat made supervillains of us all. the secret alarm & all those other bells. truck full of dirt, being emptied by one man with a shovel & a bucket. was he taking the dirt into the house? ominous parking garages & strangely distorted cityscapes. giant attack butterflies, blue poodles, & the spaceman song. uncle jojo & the ex-presidents. marilyn monroe & einstein in a furry hat. the gentleman's club with its brass plaques. great glass elevators, atriums (atrii?), giant love seats at the hotel bar. maple leaves & a wild rose in a glass. scarves, blankets, & tales of past sex lives. the glittering invitations of swimming pools, zen & the art of pool vacuuming, the same bikini twice. zoom. CVS in the 19th century, shiny diners, bathroom art. monuments without end & the bubblegum tree. george mason's burning-hot lap. the adventure of oldben's cell phone, & how it came back to us, like a cat. redheaded water nymphs & eleanor roosevelt's shoes. walter & his adoring fans. highways as great teeming veins of the human mass. south street murals. revisiting the garden of broken glass. umbrellas, sunhats, everything in doubles. blue pool halls, blonde dreads & cleavage, cock-rock punks, rec room happy anarchy, your new tattoo is looking at me. & oh, my, the tourists.

speaking of which, i captured no less than four hundred & thirty-four photographs on this voyage.

i don't know if the tourist can handle it.

fishies with suggestions, please blow bubbles.

Washington Monument.

unlikely, in my opinion. Leesburg Pike, VA.

i think i need a nap. i wish the air was still strung with the smell of honeysuckle.

Friday, June 03, 2005

fish of fun facts fast

because technically i'm s'posed to be packing.

but the combined efforts of forgottenmachine & google have revealed the following intriguing facts about me:

jenn is an atheist
jenn is awesome dot com
jenn is the daughter of the mayor of spring sun
jenn is older then glen they apparently didn't have colour photography at that point
jenn is concerned that jack is slipping away from her
jenn is drawn into the shadowland

jenn is an amazing freestyle canoeist
jenn is my favorite source for casual baby doll clothing

& i had to share them with fishies everywhere.

especially after i actually visited awesome dot com.

filling the fish

convention: i held his hand while the jedi died
me & my 2 dollar shoes.

i dunno why, but that was circling around in my head last night.

as of this evening i will be en route to our nation's capital. oh the joy.
but i am looking forward to it, & hopefully the opportunity to yell something shamelessly liberal at some appropriate Washington suit. or throw a pie. pies are good.

where will you be?
if you're in Seattle, drink a toast to me, because i was born there, & visit the Sci-Fi museum, because they've got real NASA suits next to the Star Trek jumpers.
if you're in kindergarten (whyever did we end up with a German word for school for kids? does anyone know?) try not to be so damn cynical.
if you're in love, be careful, it's akin to mental illness.
if you're in South Korea, mind the cloners. they'll turn into an army for the Empire, i'm telling you.
if you're in Iraq, pray you're not a civilian. or anyone else there, really.
if you're in NYC, check out Lee Friedlander's exhibit at the MoMA, or BookExpo America.

feed your brains, little fishies, & i'll return post-whirlwind-weekend to regale you with tales of Philadelphia & DC, bastions of liberty that they are.

my fish is thoroughly amused

jenn see has amazing eye powers - let's hope she never gets mad at you

Today my fish likes colors and i am happy to say that there are enough reluctant feathers in the universe and we don't need any more unhappy little fish.

That said, I will now share with you the places my fish took me and the wondrously strange things I found hiding there, just around the corner, in a back alley of the Universe:

Elvis Trooper Loves the Ladies

For more grand adventures of this mysterious hero, follow your fish to the Home of the Elvis Trooper.

Elvis and Darth - Best Buds Forever

I guess my fish was on a sci-fi kick because next it took me through the worm-hole (like down the rabbit-hole) to explore the wonders of those of us who miss our camaraderie. It's good to see that though the show does not continue, the obsession does:

I think John would look lovely in a little blue dress and pig-tails.

My fish also showed me that wonderful things can happen when different pop-icons are mixed into one. These are some Cool Creations. (You absolutely must follow your fish to these images as there are many, some animated and the site asks me not to disrespect his fish, not in so many words.)

Ok, my little fishies, that's it for now from the mysfit channel of the fish, stay tuned for other fish and remember not to piss off the wild life.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

just a fish in a sea of links

hooo boy.  it took me an extra day to recover from the memorial day weekend festivities which included but were not limited to parkway traffic, drinking, and star wars.  hope yours was just as enjoyable.  when i got home i took a look at our events page and thought i was looking at another band.  i've never been able to tell you about this many shows at once, but here comes june....

happy anarchy
sat 6/4 @ 8:30pm
grog and tankard
2408 wisconsin ave nw
washington, dc

sun 6/5 @ 10pm
the barbary
951 frankford ave
phila, pa

mon 6/6 @ 10pm
munchaba lounge
58 gardiners ave
levittown, ny

wed 6/8     - continental - ny, ny
mon 6/13  - pussycat lounge - ny, ny (please don't open this link at work or around children)
fri 6/17       - abilene - phila, pa
wed 6/22   - galapagos - bklyn, ny
fri 6/24       - martini red - si, ny

this month marks our first foray into the district.  people have been asking us to for years and now we are finally doing it and we're excited about it.  we're gonna rock lincoln out of his chair and he's gonna come to the grog and drink all their beer because he's tens of feet tall and has been sitting for a long time.  now that's something you don't want to miss.
seriously tho, i heard tom delay was coming and putting the cab fare on his "tab."
but oh the busyness.  i love it.  i haven't felt this charged in years.  time to get on the bus.  there are plans to release an ep in early september, all new stuff.  can't say what, tho.  it will also be our first release with the highlark label.  check them out.  the website is ill.
keeping with the subject of the web, there are several sights i would like for you to see.  i will list them....noncategorically, of course.
and this variety act

play songs, leave comments, and be our friend where applicable.  

and now all of my nilla wafers are gone...

see us:
write us:


Wednesday, June 01, 2005

memorial fish

it's a little late, but i was thinking about the meaning of memorial day, & how lucky i am that no one in my family has had to serve while i've been around, but i thought i'd fish out a few old photos & remember the service rendered by my family, both living & dead, to our country.

my stepfather, Marines Private First Class, in his dress blues. later he was medically discharged. he went into the Marines right from high school & hasn't told me much. perhaps after a few glasses of wine...

my father, Air Force Cadet.

my father with his plane. he was medically discharged due to an injury sustained while boxing for the Academy, so he never saw active service. i have a hard time imagining him being satisfied with that anyway, though i'm sure he enjoyed the training.

my father's parents at their wedding. my grandfather was a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force; he won the Silver Star for bravery & flew over 100 missions on the Burma/China run in the Pacific. my grandmother was a WAC, & she trained as a pilot in Texas, though she never flew in the war (it ended before the training was finished).

my mother's father, who retired from the National Guard as a Sergeant First Class.

during World War II he was stationed as a medic in France, where he met my grandmother, & she was his war bride. their story would make an incredible novel; maybe i'll write it someday. i'll have to sit down with my Grandmere & get her to tell me stories; it's not an easy thing for her. She was a member of the French Resistance, the underground, at the age of 16. she's still got the Cross of Lorraine carved into her shinbone.

during the war my Grandpere was with the 45th Infantry Division & won the bronze star for valor, the Purple Heart, & the Combat Medical Badge.

my aunt Kas (actually my stepfather's aunt), was a WAVE. i have no images of her in uniform, only as a journalist.

kas at a memorial with other WAVES.

it's amazing how much i don't know about this part of the life of my family. war & the military are strange things. at the very least, & i suppose it's the important part of memorials, it has made me determined to learn more about this part of my history.