My girlfriend Sara has just started a blog on philosophy: Notes on Real Clouds. Her specialty is Wittgenstein but she also digs Foucault. It also looks nicer than what I've got here. She's at least in 2010 using WordPress and I'm in 2005 here at Blogger.
Three poems of mine in TreeHouse. One is ever so slightly multilingual. OK, that might be a slight exaggeration. Stay cool with my poem about snow. Well, it's not really about snow either. NONE OF THESE POEMS IS WHAT IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT.
Or I should say, prelude to a bank fraud, up at TL;DR Magazine. It's a nifty little creative outlet with work by Mary Two Teeth and a short musing on Pokemon Go by William Lessard. My poem is a musical re-rendering of an email I got from a bank in Africa promising me big returns if I shared a little bit of data about my debit card with them.
Damn corn sweat! I hope you're all doing your best to stay cool, that is, if you're in the Northern Hemisphere. If you're in Argentina or Antarctica, stay warm! If ice cream and wet sacks are failing you, don;t give give into temptation and do the things kids say are cool, like doing heroin. Instead, go over to Anti-Heroin Chic and read three poems by me. Red wine and chocolate will be there.
I hope by making it small enough, it isn't obscene.
Room in Rome is a terrible fucking movie. Literally. I looked it up on Wikipedia and surprise, surprise, a movie about Lesbians that fails to stimulate, educate, or even titillate was made by a man. Not only that, the same man, wrote, produced, directed, and EDITED the film. So there was no one reining him in. He was probably the caterer too. It wasn't even filmed in Rome!
I found a few interesting things in the city yesterday. The first was a twenty year old syllabus for a film studies class at NYU. I came across it at a Goodwill. It was tucked inside of a tome on film criticism. It is interesting to read because it shows how just a few years ago everything was different for students. There was no internet, no DVDs, and no expectation of using a computer and printer. In one assignment, the professor, Joy Gould Boyum, tells the students to keep the carbons because they won't get their essay back until the end of the semester. Carbons! I could also tell the syllabus was originally typewritten then xeroxed. The smudges on the letters give it away. Since the class was in 1996, I imagine she got twenty papers on Pulp Fiction for the final.
Oh, so much progress we've made since then! On the other hand we still have a Clinton running for president.
I also found a ticket for Eastern Airlines tucked inside of a book the library was selling for a dollar. The book looked like a Dave Barry knockoff, a lament by one of the early baby-boomers about how Elvis was great and the Beatles ruined everything in a frothy over the top style that hides a serious bitter core. Anyway, the ticket was at least 25 years old since the airline went out of business in 1991. What I found fascinating was the lack of personal information on the ticket. There was no name, nothing. Anybody could've used it to board a plane.
Ah, the innocence that was pre-9/11 America. I'm starting to sound like the author...