Saturday, July 30, 2005

moving the superhero fish - part 2

it's amazing how a new space defines your possessions as much as your possessions define a new space.


Alabaster takes a ride

you see, i had it all worked out - a four tier system for packing - and labeled the boxes with this system in mind. tier 1: the stuff i was going to unpack right away. tier 2: the stuff i was going to unpack if i had space. tier 3: semi-permanent storage and memories. tier 4: the stuff i no longer want and will part with as soon as i figure out how.

it didn't work.

the problem is that these turned out to be less rules than guidelines and only worked really well for my books. these i separated so well that i went from five double-stocked shelves to four single-stocked shelves with room to spare (new books!). most slid easily into tier 3 - these being books i've already read and don't need to see/reference regularly. i only pulled out five books to add to the, now dusty, books-for-used-bookstores bag.

some boxes became a hodgepodge of stuff i hadn't packed yet, didn't need to be immaculately packed because of the short trip and now that they're there, i don't know what to do with the stack that hasn't quite made it to the storage room because they're too poorly packed.

as for the tier 1 boxes, now that the majority of my stuff in at the new place, i realized that there is a postulate, two really, that supersedes all my attempts at an organized move: 1)all useful things should be packed separately or on top (so that you don't have to dig to find the scissors, screwdriver, measuring tape, etc used in unpacking. dishes also are especially important on this, though less when you're moving, like i am, into a fully furnished house). with this supposition i managed remarkably well: heavy metal, shown below, has been my constant companion during many moves and has not let me down yet.


heavy metal

also my brother has the most absolutely perfect kit for such endeavors and one which i will own just as soon as i go to my friendly neighborhood hardware store:


the perfect picture-hanging kit

plus a garage full of tools and a few rolls of duct-tape, so i was all set there as well.

the second axiom of moving is this: new space necessary dictates what you will unpack first - so only take out what you have found a place for. i had forgotten this fact nearly entirely while packing and thus feel a bit lost among my possessions.

i guess that is all for now, but more pictures are coming soon to a fish or a tourist near you.

Thursday, July 28, 2005

moving the superhero fish

yay! the time has finally come - it's moving week.

this week i'll be spending way to much time in my room, covered in dust and books, overwhelmed by my possessions, cringing from papercuts (the ones from cardboard boxes being particularly painful) and wishing that i had super powers - mostly i think telekinesis and teleportation would be the most helpful ones. (if anyone has some spare toxic waste or gamma radiation lying around - send some my way.)

at the end of it all will be the start of a new adventure, a new space to spread into, to help define, a new life to sort out and, and and...

well, let's face it folks, moving sucks.

for some of us moving is easy. often it not only depends on where we are, but who we are. i, my dear friends, am a pack-rat who can organize anything that isn't my life. i will keep anything that i can imagine a use for and as you may have noticed, i have a large and vivid imagination. also, for some reason, in the last few years, i have become sentimental, which has amplified my inability to throw anything away, (or if you like, my ability to hold onto unnecessary things for untold reasons).

why do i need physical representations of my memories? i never needed them before. why now? what? so that when i'm old and senile and can't remember anything, people can hold these fossils in front of me and say "this is yours"? do you remember? say "this is you..."? do you recognize? say "this is your..."? do you recall?

ah but i know better than that - i already don't trust my memories...maybe i keep mementos because i am obsessed with time and dreams.

anyways, anytime i stop moving i collect stuff, like karmic dust in hard-cover form (esp. books). this time i haven't moved in about eleven months and instead of gradually gathering stuff over the months or years, i was hit with seven boxes of it right when i arrived from my two-thousand mile trek, with my stuff, one friend and a car (yes, this road trip did involve kansas).

it's weird, this time i'm moving four blocks and i think it's harder than when i moved from New Jersey to Colorado - mentally and possibly physically, if not emotionally. then - i had a deadline (end of lease), a size limit (in or on the station-wagon) and a long way to go (one trip only). now - i can drag it out if necessary (moving out of brother's house), no size limit (can make multiple trips) and a bunch of stuff i don't know what to do with.

here - a quick explanation: i went off to college in New Jersey, having left seven (seven!) boxes of stuff stored at my parents' house in Colorado. after college i continued my sojourn in NJ for a few years. i spent about a total of seven years there before deciding to return to the rustic charm of the rocky mountain state. however, about a month before i came to live with my bro - my parents finally sold their house and moved the rest of their stuff to California - giving me back my childhood and all the stuff i couldn't throw out when i made the transition out of the house. there so much stuff here that i don't want, don't know what to do with and don't want to through away.

so that's where i am now my little fishies - i've got all my books packed, some blankets and two more days till i move in officially. i'll keep you apprised of my progress and (perhaps) bring you pictures of my triumphs.

can mysfit get all of her shit from one place to the other and still keep her sanity? tune in later for the next exciting adventure: same fish time! same fish channel!

the voyage of the falcon fish

an (abridged) ichthyologist's guide to Falcon Ridge:

the steepness of the hill did not defeat me.
the master horse was arrogant, & his sweet companion fled to another fence. the burros however were most benevolent & sincere, & suddenly i understood their recurrence in holy parables.

children in tie-dye & varying states of undress whirled & yelled, catapulted up & down hills with the joy of discovery: so many ways to make noise. there is a kind of freedom in hippie children that glows in the dark, a kind of exploration, a way for mothers & fathers & old cousins to reflect ideals untarnished by anything but green grass & blue sky. we can all dance like 6-year-olds on the hill.

i heard little of the music--more that it washed over me, a tide rising & ebbing back into the crowded valley with all its color, leaving tidepools of surpassing clarity between tents, unique little microcosms of stranded musicians.

i climbed to Snaggle Rock in the dark & they graciously shared their dandelion wine. sparklers & cell phones set the valley to shining like the sky.

i wonder what the local Long Hill Farm population believes about the yearly recurrence of so many bare bellies & bracelets & boys in skirts. i wonder how they feel about the drums.

i walked the state line, crossed over to Massachussetts where the totem of Bish Bash stood guard over his waterfalls. i rinsed my feet in clear water.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

global battles of silly fish

this brightest of administrations is reacting to the increasing violence in its foreign affairs by--wait, this is really effective--changing the slogan for the war. i just needed to share that.

Monday, July 25, 2005

radio days: a long & old fish

this is an older one, but there were requests for visions of drunken fish, & i was thinking about the particular drunk i get at a rock show, & i remembered this piece.

for kicks, here are the original pages: from the smith-corona silent pounded out one night at the George Street apartment & in my poetic workshop days, complete with mysfit's always-constructive commentary, because it's fun for me to tend a poem & see where it grows & has grown. besides, the continuation of this sort of thing was why we started the fish in the first place.

if you never hear from me again it is most likely because mysfit has hunted me down & destroyed me as her nemesis for having displayed on the record that she once used a pink pen. so why not words to remember me by?



draft 1.




draft 2

i did mention this was a long fish.

Radio Days

sharp old cadillacs
gleaming out of the gasoline night--
                                                           tell me again
                                                           why i'm in Brooklyn?
                   like a shooting gallery
                                        a Shakespearean balcony edge:
                 Point yr crossbows at the cops
                                                    (protected & sanctified by
                                                     second story height)

Tell me a story
   yr stool perch demands it
                                        (There's a lot of animosity on this wall)

                                                    ancient Stone Pony sands
                                                    have affected my calves & sinews
                                                    wasted from the inside with cold
                                                    with a certain true cynic tone:
                                                    There Once Was A Pirate Princess

                        like upstream salmon
                                                THIS IS
                                                                        (this conversation)
                                                the catalyst for all Nature

I kiss the ashes of Jersey Shore prerequisites
& volunteer my cremation
         (burnt shards of shell
         are like ashes of charred bones)
                                                    TORCH IT
                                                                 every word you've written
                                                                 the concretes in yr creation
                                                                 fling it on the fire
                                                                 & then come to me
                                                                                           speaking--

like a voice out of the recent past
like a fragment of Ondaatje text
                  trying to remind
           it lingers--
                          this sort of soliloquy,
                          torments my interpretive
                          aloofness
                                    let fly
                                                over Staten Island's concentric circles
                                                over brick-edge scaffolds on Sackett St.
                                                over J's recent publication
                                                over industrial complex lights like stars
                                                            let fly

                                       over cityscape, the BQE spun out
                                       in tangled structural webs
                                       that arced me descending
                                       through a soul-coughing soundtrack
                                       Hallelujia duets
                                       opened like blown speakers
                                       to velocity winds
                                       as if i wore Corsica wings
                                                              (I think only my door is ajar)
I thought only I heard the rhythms resounding
                        trying to remind
             still steady there
                                             persisting into my speech
                                             via Darwinian jazz
                                                                              (& thar she blows)
                                                            all to shape you
                                                            into a prayer

I generate themes & pout,
         spout prettily phrased polemic
         from points of the absurd
         into the vast well of interest
                                                            in its red shirts--

& pirate ships are the wave of the future
& Anselm Hollo is haunting my haloes
& blue plastic goblets promote themselves
& I explain yr loss, yr cultural reversals
                                      of an evening Grind:
                        points of minute contact, a corner laugh continued
                                              & "it's 5 a.m.         & you are listening--"

Sing in the New Year of the Other
with this holographic dragon dance
         dangling from plausible ceiling fans
                  with astrophysics patterns
                                              "oh         I love the space travel" she said
                                              & sulked
                                              shaping that interior wind
                                              into crepe tailfeathers streaming

              (somewhere a shuttle is collapsing)

                                                                   have we voyaged here
                                                                   to expect
                                                                   to hear
                                                                   yr explication of spacetime
                                                                   & my continuum
                                                                   of dislocation
noticed
in light of lamps & pyramidal structure
Art Deco reflection
exploding
over his Slavic face,
         his Russian
                  expression
                           of displacement
                                                       sullen towards pixellation
(the Illuminati are Out There, weaving binary spells)

& Once Upon A Time, balcony-dressed
                  in a gallery of framed conversation
She Sailed the Seven Seas,
                  Cape Hope to Cape May,
                  her 3-fingered hand
                  on the Wheel Of Fortune theme
                                    turning into the roll
                                                      of fluorescent waves,
& she bore caskets of Sirens
                                    to serenade
                                                      Atlantic City's
                                                                        contained apocalypse

she sings you into her sphere

                                      "Good Night, Sweet Prince"
                                                                     & catapults geography:
                                                                     in ship's logs of names
                                                                     in local directories
                                                                     borne like Nemo sleeping
                                                                     over the spine
                                                                     of the Goethals
                                      "may flights of angles wing thee to thy rest"

& for those wishing for images of a drunken fish, you might find that some wishes are fishes & you could cast a net...
(here's a hint: remember the beginning of all this?
i'm frequently fairly drunk after a rocknroll show.)

the mute fish

i have a sound-proof wall around me
and my fish is wearing earmuffs

i am not communicating

this is not communication

here, i am silent

are you listening?

all lines of communication are down
please resume living as usual

Sunday, July 24, 2005

folk fish



journeyed up to the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival this weekend. images will float to the tourist as soon as i'm less dazed. keep your ear to your fish for upcoming tales of fire eaters, the front porch, snaggle rock, tagua, the totem of bish bash, & the taconic & palisades parkways. and so on.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

nostalgia fish

because my inner child is always in need of candy, & i think that's kind of a universal, thought i'd share that They (ah, those They) are making a live-action Transformers movie & a 3D CGI Smurfs movie.

& in a different sort of nostalgia altogether, & because tesco mentioned the Sneaker Pimps, here's a video for "6 underground". which apparently was on the soundtrack of a random val kilmer flick. ah well.

(post-script: i've been playing with photographs all day, so the tourist has been inundated with random image joy.)

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

"I can't change the laws of physics!"

RIP, Mr. Doohan:

James Doohan as Scotty

"beam me up, scotty" may take on a whole new meaning now...

viva la luna!

happy no-anniversary-in-particular to the moon landers.

actually, it's the 36th, i think, if my math is correct, which it might be, but then again might not. a good reason why i'll never make it to the moon, at least not their way.

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

there's a starland waiting in the fish

where did it come from?  have androgynous rock star aliens finally taken notice of the fact that we rock?  well, no, but that doesn't mean that they don't exist.


happy anarchy

fri 7/22 11pm
munchaba lounge
58 gardiners ave
levittown, ny

thurs 7/28 10pm
kenny's castaways
157 bleeker st
ny ny

wed 8/3 8pm
starland ball room
570 jernee mill road
sayreville, nj


it may not be hunkabunka anymore, but starland is probably the biggest venue for us to date.  tickets are available now, in advance for $5.  at the door it's $10 and we don't get the count, so please please please talk to your favorite anarchist and buy these tickets.  you can buy them through our site as well.  we don't charge outrageous fees like ticketbastard...errr...ticketmaster does, just enough to cover shipping.  direct yo'self to 

http://www.happyanarchy.com/ticketscheck.htm 

and pick them up today!
the new shirt designs are coming along nicely.  i can't say when we'll have them, but i can say it will be sooner rather than later at this point. 
highlark records shirts are also available at all of our shows and thru the higlark site.  pick one up or a pulse pistol, plasma cannon-toting chipmunk will kick your ass.

brush your teeth, stay in school, and follow your fish.

see us: www.happyanarchy.com
write us: happyanarchy@happyanarchy.com


-t-

the blogging fish

Your Blogging Type is Confident and Insightful
You've got a ton of brain power, and you leverage it into brilliant blog.
Both creative and logical, you come up with amazing ideas and insights.
A total perfectionist, you find yourself revising and rewriting posts a lot of the time.
You blog for yourself - and you don't care how popular (or unpopular) your blog is!

goodbye penny lane

so they closed one of my favorite coffee houses, a monument of my home town and a staple of my teen years.

penny lane is now officially closed as of last night. this place, which has been adorning boulder, colorado, usa for almost a quarter of a century, like a antique jewel from a time of free expression, is now and suddenly gone. this place, where ani difranco played her guitar and nirvana did a two day gig when their car broke down; this place, its second abode christened by allen ginsberg, a regular of the place, reading his epiphanies to an overly pleased crowd in 1994; this place, which frequently heard the words of so many poets and songsters in its lifetime of providing good coffee, free shows and open mics; this place, which was keeping some of boulder's culture, america's culture alive is now and suddenly gone. penny lane is gone

they held candle-light vigils, sang hallelujah and held a five-hour poetry reading - hoping the gods of creativity would come through for us one more time and save this sanctuary, save some of this magic. but to no avail. "the clan is scattering" one man told me and penny lane is gone.

i got up in front of the mic for the first time in months at about 11:45 p.m. and blanked out the words to my best poems, got pissed off, left the small green stage and walked out - goodbye penny lane.

i didn't even stay around for the ritual singing of "penny lane", by the beatles, at midnight.

i don't know what happened - the words wouldn't come. to me, penny lane has always been about words: the walls are made of words, the coffee's filled with words, the people are the words. it was the first place i ever got up and ranted into a mic; spoke words of hope and anger and fun before a crowd of total strangers. and it might be the last.

in order to write in this eclectic fishbowl meeting place of poets, minstrels and fictional characters (all real), all i had to do was sit down with a cup of joe, find a beginning and pull. then hold on as the distilled poetry leaked from the ceiling where no rainwater dripped, only words. sometimes just watching the decades pass me by - in fashions and personalities - was enough to get me over writer's block.

and now that it's gone, i wonder - where will all the words go?

farewell to penny lane - you will be missed.

Sunday, July 17, 2005

the wizard & the fish

ladies & gentlemen of the fish, i am in shock.

less than an hour ago i finished Harry Potter & the Half-Blood Prince. "devoured" is probably appropriate in this case. remember that inner eleven-year-old i've mentioned recently? she's hugging a pillow right now, kind of staring into space.
my inner adult is babbling all sorts of intellectual mishmash about best children's fantasy series ever, amazing grasp of human dynamics & elements of reality hitherto unseen in escapist literature. but what do i know?

excuse me, i have to go hug a pillow for awhile.

Saturday, July 16, 2005

eye candy: Willy Wonka & the chocolate fish

finally it arrived! & for once the Staten Island United Artists 16 multiplex produced an engaged & active audience, just for the occasion (hear them sigh collectively as Charlie fails to get a ticket yet again! & ah, the applause at the end.)

let me just say first that as of last night Charlie & the Chocolate Factory is my New Favorite Movie ever at the moment.
i remember looking forward to Hitchhiker's Guide, & really liking it, but walking around knowing it hadn't quite lived up to everything i'd hoped it would be.
well, i had high expectations for this movie--how can you not with the elements of Roald Dahl, Tim Burton, Johnny Depp, & Danny Elfman--& i am delighted to say it surpassed them mightily. fortunately i was aware beforehand that the story'd been altered ever so slightly (they always are for the film, neh?) & that they'd decided to interpose some flashbacks to Wonka's childhood, to, i dunno, soften the acid wit? but they're more or less effective, mostly because they revolve around Christopher Lee as a puritanical dentist.
i'm not giving anything away here, really. i wouldn't do that. this'll be as spoiler-free as possible.

Depp was his usual masterful self. i want one, to keep under my bed tied up with ribbon. ok, admittedly, when he first enters the scene you immediately think "Michael Jackson in Neverland?" (how's that for some pop-culture cross-pollination) but this passes very quickly, so fear not. & Wonka is as sarcastic & playful as Dahl could have ever wanted. nothing against Gene Wilder's version--it's such a completely different movie that it skillfully avoids comparisons, except for the inevitable ones.

the oompa-loompa musical numbers were wild, & all the oompa-loompas are played by one small man, by the name of Deep Roy, one at a time. they used the original Dahl lyrics, which was a good thing, as it made it a very separate phenomenon from the Mel Stuart version (who could ever get "oompa loompa doopadee doo" out of their head?)

& Tim Burton's candy-techni-colored factory was pure visual joy. wheeeee!

the writing, acting, & effects were all magnificent. i was in a state of childish glee from beginning to end (& for some time before & after, too.)

& they preceded the film with the full trailer for Corpse Bride, so you can imagine the schoolgirl giggling exploding from my theater seat.

& i'm afraid that's all i'm going to say on that subject, because my copy of Harry Potter & the Half-Blood Prince just arrived via the hand of the cutest little Japanese mailman. thank you, Amazon. although i have to say i like the UK edition cover art better.

so i may be absent from the fish for a few days.

I never thought that I could fly
over the moon in ecstasy
Nevertheless that's where I
am shortly about to be...

Friday, July 15, 2005

fish looks up rebirth

slip-sliding side-style slinging sore throats of crocus & spring wanderlust, singing Wunderlands of carol-esque-ness & coalescing conceptions of promotional scheme-stealers, irises & notions. notions like ribbons? no, notions only now becoming necessary like the crocus becoming a bloom on time. no, that isn't the note, you know, you might be out of tune.

heeeeeeeeeeere's fishy.

all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish. all work and no play make ben a dull fish.

mysfit's fish poem - as big as it gets

(ok, i lied - if you click on it it does get a little bigger and if you view it in big view, not fit in window- you may even be able to read some of the words)

Thursday, July 14, 2005

tonight's fish was brought to you by the letter C

i'm a little over-bubbly right now, because French champagne is really good. in spite of this i'll endeavor to say a few words about Bastille Day, which, for you non-french fishies, is the French equivalent of Independence Day; it also happens to be today.
however, none of the words i speak will be to credit the below painting. i'm just feeling too laissez-faire.


the storming of the Bastille, July 14, 1789.

today is the anniversary of the symbolic end of the French monarchy & the beginning of the republic. the storming of the Bastille, the monarchist prison, demonstrated the fallibility of the monarchs once supposed to rule by the right of God. etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

the celebration itself--the Fête Nationale--dates from 1790, from the Fête de la Fédération--which, er, celebrated the storming of the Bastille.

so Bon Jour de Bastille, & all that jazz. i'm going to go drink more champagne (actual champagne, which only French champagne can say), eat our more-than-likely-to-be-crappy crepes, & later, chocolate cookies (because i wanted them, dammit) & a nice Bordeaux.

Salut.

(note from a day less bubbly:
i forgot to mention that my favorite Bastille Day celebration happens in Philadelphia, where they reenact--you, too, can grab a pitchfork--the storming of the Bastille at the old East State Penitentiary. this includes Marie Antoinette proclaiming "Let them eat TastyKakes" & tossing Krimpets over the walls. wheeee!
& i'll be damned if i can figure out where that image came from or who painted it. it's eluding me. apologies.
the management, the morning after.)

review fish - samurai fish

since i'm not very good at these review-thingy-bobs, i have avoided saying much about the movies i've seen recently (except perhaps the ones that pissed me off - like that quantum documentary). the most notable of recent movie viewings that i have neglected to comment on was The Corporation - suffice to say, if you haven't seen it - see it now! however, i have fallen head over heals for old samurai pictures, and i must spread the joy. SPREAD THE JOY!!


Zatoichi

my newest love is Zatoichi.

lovable and dangerous, blind Ichi travels the lands of feudal Japan, drinking, gambling and defending the innocent. this series of 26 movies (mostly from 1960's to early 70's) details the adventures of a blind swordsman, who traveled the country as a masseur during the early 1800's. everybody tries (and i do mean tries and fails) to get a drop on the poor, blind masseur and Ichi often tests people to see if they are honest. he has a gambling habit and a bad tendency to be in the wrong place at the right time to get sucked into other people's problems. invariably anyone who faces him dies a quick and sure death. he fights by hearing alone and therefore, has one of the most interesting fighting styles i've ever seen. his cane sword may seem, if not common-place, at least familiar in current day, but back in the 60's it must have been revolutionary.

i don't know about you, but if i've just watched a blind man take down ten to fifteen men with about as many sword swipes, i'd drop my sword and offer him a drink.

as a long time fan of the martial arts genre as well as an avid (if currently starved) Anime fan, i've never been much for westerns. however, in watching these movies i can see their influence on the western genre - cowboys, drunken gambling and noble outlaws - now mix that with traditional japanese culture and you're getting close.

Ichi (also Zatoichi) is played by the legendary actor Shintaro Katsu in all but the last movie (which came out in 2003). he was born in Tokyo, Japan and died of lung cancer in 1997 - he was 65 years old. this series remains a favorite in both Japan and the US - and why not, this is top quality samurai action.


Lone Wolf and Cub

so last night i was introduced to a samurai movie called "Baby Cart to Hades". unlike the Zatoichi movies, which stand alone, the six movies in the Lone Wolf and Cub series are the continuing saga of Ogami Itto (played by Tomisaburo Wakayama) and his son, Daigoro.

he was the shogun's official executioner, a master of the kill, when he was unjustly accused of heresy by the same clan who killed his wife. he now roams Japan as assassin for higher: "500 gold can buy his sword, but nothing can buy his honor".

this series came out in the early seventies and i can't resist listing the american titles, for you:
"Sword of Vengeance"
"Baby Cart at the River Styx"

"Baby Cart to Hades"
"White Heaven in Hell"
"Baby Cart in Peril"
"Baby Cart in the Land of Demons"

i have only seen one and will probably share more about them as i watch the rest. however, from what i can tell, these are strange period pieces, as they are set in a transitional period in Japanese history, where some of the samurai carry guns as well as swords and are not less honorable for all that. in the one i saw, Lone Wolf takes down an entire army with baby cart and sword. i kid you not, the baby cart is an arsenal of weaponry and much of the controls are at the hands of Daigoro, who has to be around 4 years old - you'll just have to see it to understand.


for alix. & ichigo wants to know.

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

the infrequent fish

my friends call me

today i met a barber
doorman, doctor, explorer
words exchanged
and directions changed
with not but a shaking of hands

has anyone a hole
or half a whole at that,
to help me puncture this bubble?
my love waits for me outside
slight and sunny amid the rubble
stained brown and ashen
from smack cigarettes, eyes
trained on an approaching vanishing point
muscles long in anticipation
strained and frozen

o to be clever!
read songs to me
sing me some poetry
i can’t hear anything over
this droning air conditioner
that is making me cold

there’s not much variety
to be had on this island
(these days i am
a lowly potato bug)
the brighter species
driven away by
pollution and corruption
dropped in between oceans
largely ignored by fish
and set upon from all sides
by glowinthedark boxing shrimp
one more reason to sit still
     and
          sink
               into
these depths that remain unsounded
dreams, schemes that are not unfounded
with attentions, intentions that may be golden
but for this wooden leg that keeps me grounded
like a stalled space program

silly fish, no power tools.

who mows a lawn in a thunderstorm?!

ah well. one of them mysteries of life things.

i'm off to play with doctors & lawyers.

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

because everyone needs to be a giant monster sometimes

jenn is a Giant Squid that eats Metal, Stomps Around a Lot, has four Extra Limbs, can Leap Great Distances, and is Blind.
(Strength: 8 Agility: 3 Intelligence: 7)

you can also play a food-eating battle monkey.

Monday, July 11, 2005

persnickety fish

i'm really starting to take issue (for no reason in particular) with those flashy banners & pop-ups that claim "free this!" or "free that!" or "free presents!" or "free sex!" (actually, no, i haven't seen that one.)

it's never really free. it's an old-school barter system thing. you trade your information for...well, useless crap mostly, but that's not the point.

i want flashy banners that say "trade your identity for coupons!" or "trade your demographic & mother's maiden name for a dinner at a blah chain restaurant!" & dammit i mean to have them. if i have to make them myself & trade them in for...i dunno, chocolate-covered strawberries or raffle tickets from the Zion Lutheran church down the street.

road to the wildwood inn

1.

singing something
about mountain people
the way nets hold them in
billowing thunderheads blooming
over equal sides of the highway

i hadn't meant to be
so exuberant
flailing wrists & hands
out rattling windows
as though
i were trying to fly

& rain whirled down with
all the fury of the highway gods
but the way out
was there,
luminescent blue between spumes
of spray,
plumes of swirling
thundercloud,
& the way opened up
without fanfare, with no rainbows,
we drove on
in & out of mist
headlong to higher elevations

2.

images i can almost taste reaching like songs revolve
in my head, the long thin lines of light
at slow shutter speeds, animals airbrushed
into the scene. i had a dream
this morning. it was a telephone call, & he said
something unreal.
through the static i responded:
i don't think we should be
having this conversation. it was
a strange dream.
when i woke
i flipped the jukebox
in my mind to play
a different song
but the image
will not go.

Sunday, July 10, 2005

far-flung fish: a tale of Random, Pennsylvania

it's amazing how 2 days of traveling can feel like a week...has something to do, i think, with I-80 being obscenely unmoving, down to one lane for construction that doesn't appear to be happening. storage for traffic cones, is oldben's theory. & Southern boys named Frank can drink like fish for hours & hours, even on crutches. who would make a Waterworld pinball machine? do they make clip-on mullets? & i do not like the Days Inn, no sir, everything feels covered in a thin layer of something alien & oily. in conclusion, it definitely smells funny in Staten Island.

Friday, July 08, 2005

quickly, one pissed off fish i am

i'm about out of time but i couldn't let this go un-fished. I don't watch Fox News, but thanks to my dear Skrambled, I have been clued into a site called News Hounds. Their motto is "We watch FOX so you don't have to". It's a great site, but what i found on it today makes me one pissed off fish.

According to Bill O'reilly of the O'reilly factor, if you don't agree with him in this "Talking Memo" you are helping terrorists and are a traitor to America.

All I have to say is fuck him. More on this when I have time

Thursday, July 07, 2005

to the nth

click on it with max window space & i think it's legible...


written October 2001.
i was trying to figure out a way to post this poem so that the spacing remained...it's still somewhat garbled, & i dunno if it's readable, but i don't know how else to post it...& it still feels like a kind of expression of what i'm feeling...it helps to have already written it.

i live by the river...

all the compassion i can muster is currently winging its way to London to anyone affected by this morning's blasts. i have a sort of mantra going in my brain, "Please please let everyone be ok"...& everyone is obviously not, & it's horrible.

i can only hope that some good may come out of it & the Bush-Blair brain trust finally snaps out of it & starts actually trying to effectively clamp down on terrorism, because Al Qaeda still scares the shit out of me.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

breaking newsfish

they've sent NY Times reporter Judith Miller to jail for refusing to reveal a confidential source.

mental picture for you: Woodward & Bernstein imprisoned.

we're going down the wrong side of the trousers of time at this point, people.

episodes of strange and unusual fish - part 8

alright, so the fish has been calling my name all through my dreams and i've realized that everyone can see the pictures but me. well, at least on this computer, all i see are spots, for no apparent reason. don't ask me about the gray picture in part 17, i don't know, but if you click on the pic you can see my darkside.

so i guess i have failed to mention the bizarre things i do to computers. jenn see knows the way machines can respond to one's personal physical energy. she destroys stereos or rather stereos commit suicide around her.

forget quantum and the cosmic loaf (with marmalade)!! step right up, because we have undeniable proof that you affect me and that i still have a gravitation pull on Neptune - even if it is very small. you can't deny it, because i won't hear no for an answer.

story 1: every now and then my old laptop would give me a pop-up menu "system is unstable - press ok". there were no other options so i pressed ok and returned to what i was doing, unhindered.

story 2: for about two weeks the a: drive (yes this was a few years ago - i still had a 3.5 floppy diskdrive) ceased to work entirely. well, that's not completely true. placing a floppy in this drive would crash my computer unless i took the following steps (in order): a) place disk in drive; b)immediately turn off active desktop; c)press button on drive to remove disk (don't get nervous that the disk doesn't pop-out); d)go to my computer and double-click drive; e) turn on active desktop. then the drive worked fine - see simple. after about two weeks, i never had trouble with the drive again.

please share your strange encounters with machines in the comments section and please, don't step on the mushrooms

{unfortunately Song of the Purple Mushroom Fish is an intrumental}

mad lib

flighty fish's flighty fish

"I follow my fishs and all the fish follows fish;
I follow my fishs and all is follow again.
(I follow I follow you up inside my fish.)

The fishs go following out in flighty and flighty,
And flighty fish follows in:
I follow my fish and all the fish follows fish.

I followed that you followed me into fish
And follow me flighty, followed me quite flighty.
(I follow I follow you up inside my fish.)

fish follows from the fish, fish's fishs follow:
follow fish and fish's fish:
I follow my fish and all the fish follows fish.

I followed you'd follow the way you follow,
But I follow flighty and I follow your fish.
(I follow I follow you up inside my fish.)

I should have followed a fish instead;
At least when fish follows they follow back again.
I follow my fish and all the fish follows fish.

(I follow I follow you up inside my fish.)

courtesy of jp, sylvia plath, & this.
(i'm a bit sheepish at the moment as i can't remember which Plath poem the fish is mating with here.)

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

fish go boom


the sacrificial watermelon, the Cove, Staten Island, July 4th.

to commemorate (is that enough m's?) this Great Nation's independence--& we're still independent, you've got to hand it to those forefathers--we, as i mentioned i might, drank ourselves wobbly, ate outside in the waning summer sun, & exploded things.

one such thing was the sacrificial Independence Day watermelon, carefully carved, thoroughly blown up (pop quiz: how many M80s does it take to blow up a watermelon?), & burned with...some ceremony, anyway. like "oooh, look it's turning black" & "aaah, the watermelon is angry."

thereby demonstrating that the youth of today (don't look at me like that, i still qualify as "youth") is a credit to the homeland. as it were.

episodes of strange and unusual fish - part 17



for some reason, once we began meddling with the physics of time, strange things have been happening here on the fish. there have been inter-dimensional fish, like the one above (compliments of monkey 0) popping in and out of existence all over the place. I don't know if you can see the pictures posted here or not, but all i get are dots. so let that be a lesson to all of you little fishes - LEAVE THE COSMIC LOAFS ALONE!!!!

(stay tuned to the fish for further developments)

Monday, July 04, 2005

freedom fish

the Declaration of U.S. Independence

When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. --That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security. --Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refuted his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.
He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.
He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.
He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their Public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.
He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.
He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected, whereby the Legislative Powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.
He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.
He has obstructed the Administration of Justice by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary Powers.
He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.
He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harass our people and eat out their substance.
He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.
He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil Power.
He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:
For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:
For protecting them, by a mock Trial from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:
For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:
For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:
For depriving us in many cases, of the benefit of Trial by Jury:
For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences:
For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies:
For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:
For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.
He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.
He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.
He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation, and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & Perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.
He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.
He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.
In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred. to disavow these usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the United States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States, that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. --And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.


& the Preamble to the Constitution

We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.


just some fish for thought.
now i will go forth & celebrate my Americana, by getting well & drunk, eating outside, & watching things explode.