Carl's Tiny Brain

Lady of the Flies

2007-03-15T20:56:00.000-04:00

I know this is supposed to be a poetry blog, but I'm having far too much fun not writing poetry. There's no self-loathing and insecurity in the writing of childish cartoons.

I think maybe I'm in my fourth childhood.

Here's a silly Microsoft Paint cartoon - just for you:

Here it is on a silly T-shirt, if you're into silly stuff on silly t-shirts: Absolute Cotton Gifts, Tees, and Other Methods of Avoiding Poetry

Touched by an Uncle

2007-02-23T20:47:00.000-05:00

It seems I've been tagged by the weird Italian poet lady to write a top-ten list of porn films on television, so here you go.

Let me start by saying I don't normally like to watch porn films - I'm suckered into watching them by Skinemax. Allow me to explain.

They'll trick a sleepy not-too-bright guy who's quickly channel surfing by showing soft-core porn with a title nearly the same as a popular movie. Last night I clicked the remote for what I thought was "Lord of the Rings," and ended up instead with number one on the list:

1. Lord of the G-strings.

I bet you didn't know this, but hobbits are actually short nymphomaniacs with dirty feet, huge breasts, and absolutely no acting ability (I'm not judging hastily - I gave them an hour and a half to impress me.)

Likewise with number two:

2. Kinky Kong. (What a 2-hour let-down! …and it's even worse the second time you watch it.)

So now I'm wondering about gay porn, and if the acting is just as bad for them… so I flip over to the LOGO channel and watch a guy doing a strip tease. It's almost exactly the same as hetero porn… except the guy is putting his clothes ON the whole time. When he finished, he looked absolutely fabulous.

After two hours of watching the Home Shopping Network, (hoping in vain to find that dreamy shirt) I decided to include a bit of gay porn as number three.

3. Anything on the Home Shopping Network.

I'm back to channel surfing late-night cable, and - voila - I find the perfect bad porno:

4. Star Wars: Episode One. What an awful f*cking movie!

In the interests of friendship and science, I'm staying up way past my bedtime to research this list. All for science and Arlene Ang.

The true test of friendship is the willingness to watch porn all alone late at night. I wonder if Ms. Ang would do the same for me.

I don't want to know the answer - either way.

I'm afraid Star Wars numbed my brain (how wude!) I nodded off and slept through numbers five, six, seven, and eight - but meeee-sa did wake in time to watch my number nine-a favorite sick-o show.

9. Peewee's Playhouse.

I'm sorry, but Peewee Herman as a pervert just didn't surprise me in the slightest. I love watching reruns of the show now that I'm sure there's something wrong with him. Judging Peewee harshly for every possible sexual innuendo is so much fun it's painful.

Speaking of pain... I was surfing the web last week to research weird sexual fetishes. I found one fetish website that's devoted entirely to pictures of women in arm casts. That's it. No nudity. No lingerie. No sexy suggestive poses or smiles. Just arm casts.

Apparently, there is a whole culture of men turned on by pictures of clumsy, injured women. Hey - to each his own, but it does bring us to the end of the list:

10. Debbie Does Dialysis.

Ted Haggard is cured off the gayness!

2007-02-09T01:25:00.000-05:00

Haggard "Completely Heterosexual" Now

Disgraced mega-minister Ted Haggard, who resigned as pastor of New Life Church in Colorado Springs and as leader of a national evangelical group after it was revealed he had been blowing male sex worker Mike Jones for several years, has been pronounced "completely heterosexual" by Reverend Ted Ralph, one of a panel of ministers overseeing his three weeks of "intensive counseling."
- From an article in the gay city news.

I don't know what prompted his sexual healing, but I like to think this bumper sticker I painted a while back might have helped the man in some small way:

Edvard Munch, Hillary Clinton, and Microsoft Paint

2007-02-03T23:54:00.000-05:00

Going to the dogs

2007-01-26T17:16:00.000-05:00

I've been wasting a lot of time working on my tshirt shop Absolute Cotton.

I don't really need the money, but I get a kick out of designing and selling weird stuff on the internet. I suppose it's like an online version of Monopoly for the socially impaired. In the game, I'm somewhere between Baltic Avenue and the bottom of the little shiny boot.

Last night, I drank a lot of beer and decided I needed a pet section - so here you go:

Some things are only funny when a dog says them.

I get a monthly check...

I wore this same dress...

Doggie style

She killed the last one...

got leg?

Bitches love me

...you should see my sexy nightie

...And I vote!

Fishing

2007-01-22T11:26:00.000-05:00

I spent last Sunday on the Broad River with my new fly rod. A great blue heron was fishing just upstream, and was apparently much more skilled.

I spent an hour following him up the river, picking up fishing tips and snapping photos with my Rebel (70/300 lens and Kodak HD400 film - for those that care.)

Clicking either photograph will take you to my photographic tile boxes and other items with that image.

Very Superstitious

2007-01-20T18:03:00.000-05:00

I made the mistake of clearing 3 browser hijack objects from my wife's computer. Now, "everything looks different" since I started "clicking around." I'm in the doghouse.

I have four years of university schooling in computer programming, a tech degree in electronics, and 20 years of continuing education to maintain my professional licenses. I'm the GM of a firm specializing in custom automation design and coding for utility companies. On the side, I like to click around and screw up the computers of unsuspecting housewives.

The problem (as I see it) is a superstitious mindset. I encounter it often.

Customers will often call to complain about something not working properly and will claim it's my fault, even if it's completely unrelated to any issue I've corrected. It usually begins somewhere along the lines of "the lightbulb in my desklamp was working fine until you installed the mux board in the computer room" and ends with me saying something damaging to my career.

People like to ascribe causes to events - any cause. It makes no difference at all to them if they don't understand the cause they're claiming - in fact, blind faith strengthens their resolve.

Imagine calling a microwave repairman and telling him that the microwave was working fine until your husband stood on one foot. He might listen and nod, but he'll not care. He'll poke around, find a bad magnetron tube or a blown xfmr winding, and fix it. If he's feeling generous, he might give you a cause you can understand: "It was an act of God," he'll say.

Anyway, I fixed the "looking different" problem with my "clicking around" while she was in the shower. It was completely unrelated.

I foresee a day when science will downplay causality. They'll claim that it's an illusion which occurs in macro systems, and you shouldn't worry too much about it. Perhaps one day we'll believe it and move on.

That'll probably happen about 2 days after the rapture.

Poetry is a Lonely Thing

2007-01-04T19:46:00.000-05:00

After a very long stretch of writing fiction, I've returned to the writing of poetry.

Allow me to correct myself: I've returned to insecurity and self-loathing.

I was going to post something poetically sappy, but I've decided instead to list my top ten euphemisms for writing poetry that work equally well as euphemisms for masturbation.

10. Capturing the essence of Longfellow.

  9. Trying for a magazine spot.

  8. Shooting myself in the foot.

  7. Polishing until it no longer shines.

  6. Grinding the pencil to a nub.

  5. Trying a well-worn device.

  4. Spewing my emotions onto paper.

  3. Coming to grips with a little issue.

  2. Dragging my post to online criticism.

  1. Stroking myself until I have an orgasm.

Democracy

2007-01-03T00:59:00.000-05:00

It looks like Massachusetts may be on the road to banning same-sex marriage. A lobby led by a religious few has prompted lawmakers to advance a constitutional amendment defining marriage as the union between a man and woman - otherwise known as "no-sex" marriage.

That's democracy in action. Scare people with hints of a vengeful god, allow them to vote their fear, and it becomes valid and righteous for the majority to strip whatever rights they choose from whatever minority they choose.

Equal Rights is an issue for the courts, not the polls.

Wake up, people. One day, you'll be the minority.

I May as Well Go Blogger Myself

2007-01-02T13:46:00.000-05:00

Anyone want to take bets on how long it'll be before "blogger" becomes a derogatory term?

He's such a total blogger. This office is all bloggered up. Stop bloggering around.

If the comments aren't still bloggered, you may place your bets.

A New Day is Dawning

2007-01-01T11:48:00.000-05:00

The Interior Department proposed Wednesday to designate polar bears as a threatened species.

Apparently, when we heat the planet enough to melt all of the ice in the arctic, it not only makes life hell for republicans... it makes life hard for the polar bears, too.

Quote:
"...in a conference call with reporters, Interior Secretary Dirk Kempthorne said that although his decision to seek protection for polar bears acknowledged the melting of the Arctic ice, his department was not taking a position on why the ice was melting or what to do about it."
____________________________

The FDA says meat from cloned animals is safe for human consumption.

A recent study found that 64% of Americans expressed a discordant viewpoint of whole-organism mammalian reproductive clone consumption, of which 46% were strongly discordant. Another study found that when the wording was changed, 80% were "agin it," with 65% "rilly agin it."

The FDA defended its findings by claiming that (by law) they could only consider the real scientific evidence. Consumer groups have expressed outrage at such an insanely sensible law.
____________________________

Saddam Hussein was recently executed.

Tiny Brain sources report President Bush planned to call beforehand and apologize for the whole "mass destruction" misunderstanding, but was distracted by a bit of shiny tinfoil stuck to the end of a sweaty polar bear.
____________________________

Have a wonderful New Year!

2007 New Year Resolutions

2006-12-31T00:25:00.000-05:00

This year, I promise I will -

- stop asking the Chuck E Cheese waitress if she knows the current threat level.

- buy a dictionary and finally look up the meaning of the word "resolution."

- drink a glass of tang without saying "that was tangy" and giggling.

- confess to my children that they were not adopted, after all.

- stop asking my wife if she thinks Jesus knew how to swim.

- spend less time outside, more time online, and gain 30 pounds.

- feed the replacement cat.

- stop leaving things unfinished.

-

- find the man who shot my pa, and force him to draw.

- stop carrying rolls of pennies to the nudie bar.

In case there's someone I haven't yet offended...

2006-12-29T18:09:00.000-05:00

While I'm in a religious mood, here's a quick photoshop Editorial Cartoon:

Last Sunday, our pastor told his first of two jokes (there are exactly two in each of his sermons.) It was that old dirty joke about the woman who tries to teach her parakeet not to curse. He realized midway that he couldn't tell that joke from the pulpit, so he changed it. He rambled for about five minutes, then told us the parakeet (whose name was "Chippy") was accidentally sucked into a vacuum cleaner. He concluded by saying it was a very sad thing, indeed.

Several ladies from the handbell choir were sitting in front of me and muttering amongst themselves as to the story's meaning. It had absolutely nothing to do with the scripture (micah 5) so I explained it to them. The moral is: "it sucks to be Chippy."

I guess I spoke a little loudly, because the pastor gave me one of his "I hate Carl" looks. I earned my last "I hate Carl" look for using "abracadabra" instead of "amen" whilst saying grace in the fellowship hall.

It rattled him so badly, he forgot himself and told an off-color jew joke. On Christmas Eve. In Church. In front of six hundred people. Apparently, Jews are cheap, money-hungry, godless people.

It must be because they aren't members of the most exclusive methodist church in town.

Does anyone else find it peculiar that - somehow - what God hates always coincides with what you hate?

Great Debates

2006-12-20T12:46:00.000-05:00

At significant risk to her immortal soul, my protestant wife has finally acknowledged the existence of evolution.

Not the big and scary "Moses was making stuff up" evolution, but the harmless little "bacteria evolve immunity so you’d better take your antibiotics properly or you’re gonna meet Jesus" evolution.

My wife and I often discuss our differing core beliefs. They usually take the form of a Socratic debate. Somehow, I always end up playing the role of Socratic fool. Must be a guy thing.

Anyway, I finally won last week with the "bacteria" point. I had to share my triumph.

Other points frequently argued but never won:

1. If it’s been over a month, who washed the dishes last doesn’t matter.
2. Whoever is foolish enough to feed the dog has to clean up its poop.
3. If laundry tags were meant to be read, they’d be on the outside of clothes.
4. Thieves are not actively trying to steal my identity. Nobody wants to be me.
5. Jehovah’s Witnesses are not "company."

Update

2006-12-13T10:42:00.000-05:00

I've been working tirelessly on 100,000 pretentious words of literary fiction.
Don't worry - I'll never complete it.

In the meantime, here's your sign:

Yesterday in traffic I was behind a woman who was talking to a cellular phone.
In the far left lane.
Going 10 mph below the speed limit.

She had one of those ubiquitous "Jesus" fishes glued to her trunk.

I think it's there because that's what one says when one is behind this woman.

Jesus.

Why I can't blog

2006-09-25T17:21:00.000-04:00

My wife spends all evening (every evening) posting to prayer blogs around the net. Therefore, I've been avoiding the internet... to show my superiority.

I hope she doesn't read this.

In other news, the pope insulted atheists today. We've decided to protest by staging a massive demonstration of indifference.

In Today's News

2006-09-08T11:39:00.000-04:00

Google News is fun.

A new drug has been found to help with premature ejaculation.

From the article:

"According to the US researchers, at the beginning of the study, the men, on average, ejaculated under a minute after penetration. After 12 weeks, the time to ejaculation was 1.75 minutes for those on placebo and 2.78 minutes for those on 30mg of the drug.

However those who had been taking 60mg of the drug saw their time to ejaculation increase to 3.32 minutes."

If you are a woman, what is better: 1 minute of sex, or 3.32 minutes of sex?

I can only speak for the "man imagining himself on the receiving end" perspective, but I'd take the "less than a minute" option.

The prospect of a new marathon sex drug has PE sufferers excited. So excited,in fact... well - you know.
_________________________________

Congress votes to ban the slaughter of horses for human consumption.

From the article:

"The House overwhelmingly approved a bill Thursday banning the transport and slaughter of horses for human consumption...

...It's legal to eat horse meat, but Americans are generally repulsed by the idea of consuming what many view as a companion animal."

So it would be legal to eat a horse, but illegal to kill it first?
Our country is run by monsters.
_________________________________

The man who held Austrian schoolgirl Natascha Kampusch captive for eight years has been buried secretly and under a false name, officials said.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess:
He's buried in his mother's basement.
_________________________________

There May Be More To a Vegetative State Than Science Thought

From the article:

A new study promises, or threatens, to overturn medical dogma about what is happening in the minds and brains of at least some patients in such a state...

...Patients in a vegetative state open their eyes and seem to be awake, yet show no sign of being aware of themselves or their surroundings.

Apparently, scientists have never visited Arkansas.
_________________________________

Why they call it Labor Day

2006-09-06T18:49:00.000-04:00

The long, long, long weekend with the in-laws in Little Rock has ended.

They are all very nice, but absolutely no one there can be happy with a television channel for more than five seconds.

I watched a few seconds of everything on TV, then I went to the zoo.

My brother-in-law arranged a backstage visit with the keeper of the “large hoofed mammals.” I don’t know how he came to know her, but Arkansas is full of large hoofed mammals… particularly in the local Walmart. She must be a very busy woman.

The visit was interesting, but ultimately gross - like when my wife announces that she’s made chicken casserole for dinner… and I find out she’s replaced the chicken with bologna.

I suppose the kids had fun. A baby giraffe came up to take an apple from my niece’s hand, and we discovered that what we called “giraffe-spots” were actually called “sores.” There was a nice zoo anecdote about “troubles with the unloading chute.”

The kids were allowed to pet the rhinos, then they learned rhino stench is extremely difficult to wash from your hands.

Knowledge is power.

disneyland in outer space

2006-08-30T19:13:00.000-04:00

My ex-wife and I were discussing religion the other night, so naturally the subject of Pluto came up. She favors creationism over evolution because science lacks constancy. It’s hard for her to trust something so flighty.

I usually disagree with the ex as a matter of principle, but – doggone it – she has a point. Just when you think you have something memorized, they go and snatch the solar system right out from under you.

My solar system mnemonic is shot to hell. Like many folks my age, my planetary arrangement depended upon the phrase “My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Nine Pizzas.” Astronomy just stole my pizza.

It’s the end of the solar system as we know it … and there’s no thirty-minute guarantee.

What will kids memorize now – “My Very Evil Mother Just Served Us Nothing?” Way to go, astronomy – take my pie… and blame it on mother.

At least I didn’t waste time studying the new science of exobiology when they touted that (now discredited) Martian meteorite with the pseudo-fossils.

What’s next – reclassifying Uranus as a black hole?

While we’re at it, let’s reclassify Earth as “An expendable roundish body ruled by republicans.” They’ll probably blow it up soon anyway, and there’ll be less paperwork afterwards.

I wish I could believe in a religion.

I’m Still Alive

2006-08-30T13:34:00.000-04:00

Well, I’m back (sort of.)

I got very busy at work, helping our machinist design and build a ridiculous quantity of wild pig traps for the Department of Natural Resources. Then I had an accident with a blowtorch, lost vision for a little while, and am recovering from severe burns to my hands. There’s poetry in there somewhere, but I refuse to acknowledge it.

The DNR orders quirky stuff from us around this time every year. Last year, it was custom rockets. Big, ugly, solid-fueled rockets made of iron. To catch Canadian geese. I didn't launch myself into orbit.

On a comforting note, our traps are catching up to 20 wild pigs per night, each. Sleep safe.

Poetry Thursday

2006-07-20T22:51:00.000-04:00

The Stem Cell Veto Song

George-Bush loves the little chill-dren,
All the children in the fridge.
Embryonic and snow-white
With a petri dish frostbite,
They're precious people
- 'til it's time to clean the fridge.

It's so hot...

2006-07-19T22:09:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow is forecast to be another 100+ day. The heat has made life in Georgia miserable. Therefore, I've decided to make everyone else equally miserable - by writing a few horrible "it's so hot.." jokes.

Feel free to forward this in an email to everyone you dislike.

Religions

It's so hot, the Baptists aren't burning any books.

It's so hot, Satan went home until it cools off.

It's so hot, the Jehovah's Witnesses are thinking of putting in a window.

Plants and Animals

It's so hot, the squirrels are leaving their nuts uncovered.

It's so hot, I saw a cornfield explode.

It's so hot, my dog is afraid to lick his own butt.

People

It's so hot, a woman spilled McDonald's coffee in her lap - and didn't sue.

It's so hot, every gay person who came out has gone back in.

It's so hot, President Bush is starting to make sense.
(Sorry, Texas - I didn't understand.)

Just Plain Stupid

It's so hot, even my wife is losing weight.

How hot is it where you live?

I'm Back

2006-07-18T21:49:00.000-04:00

According to my MD - I have a sinus infection, strep throat, a nasty cough, an ear inflammation, and what remains of my tonsils have become "pretty red." "Red" I can deal with, but it's creepy when a Georgia doctor says you have any sort of pretty mouth.

Here's what happened in the world while I was out sick:

The Georgia Supreme Court overturned a ruling by a lower court that removed the ban on same-sex marriage. This is bad news for all Georgia homosexuals who married immediately after the lower-court ruling - as they are all now "living in sin."

Man... I can't wait for the rapture to thin the diseased minds from the herd. I'm ready for some peace and mutual respect.

Korea launched a missile everyone said was capable of reaching US soil, but it flew for about 40 seconds and blew up. If they want to nuke us, it looks like our embassy in Korea is the most likely target. Scary - if you're Korean.

Israel attacked Lebanon for harboring Hezbollah. Everyone knows Iran is the real sponsor of Hezbollah, but Iran probably has nukes and Israel isn't stupid. Crazy - yes. Stupid - no. The lesson for President Bush is: "Never attack a terrorist state for having WMD's if those WMD's actually exist." Amen to that.

Speaking of Bush... The President - at a Meeting of 8 summit in Russia - forgot his microphone was on and rambled unsupervised until Tony Blair turned off the microphone. Here's what Bush said about the situation in Lebanon: “See the irony is that what they need to do is get Syria to get Hezbollah to stop doing this shit and it’s over.”

^ Change "Syria" to "Halliburton" and "Hezbollah" to "George Bush."
The irony is so thick... it could sit on the Georgia Supreme Court.

In local news: I made a TV commercial for one of our sister companies, where I pretended to be one of their customers. Then I took my shirt off for the next segment and pretended to be one of their employees. It has aired about a million times in Georgia. Nobody pays any attention to the first part.

I’ve probably made the newspapers at least 6 dozen times – with groundbreaking ceremonies, music reviews of my old concerts, etc – and I’m famous as “that guy who wears a white t-shirt and works in the back.”

I've decided to milk it.

Tomorrow: I wear a white t-shirt and get stuck in a well with a gay guy.

George Bush, Britney Spears, and more Google hits

2006-07-07T00:20:00.000-04:00

However... I refuse to mention breasts, World Cup Soccer, or Cartoon Network. I have my pride.

Poetry Thursday

2006-07-06T12:28:00.000-04:00

Have a Poetry McNugget.

Drought

Brown and bent in the dust beyond,
crops pray to clouds too proud to break.
Below them both, starched Georgia clay
piously scorns what the Lord doesn't take.

Independence Day

2006-07-05T11:26:00.000-04:00

July flips and rolls on my tongue
like a drumbeat.
Like a seed
of a Yankee Doodle summer
or a slice of watermelon
smiling
as if everyone I've ever lost
waits only as far away as my son
who has just learned how to whistle
and how to spit seeds so fast
they can heat the sky and tumble
to the edges of its dried skin.

War of the World

2006-07-03T09:10:00.000-04:00

I have the dreaded and oxymoronic summer cold.

When I’m sick the whole world seems to fizzle and slow down - like a firecracker I’m afraid to approach. I’m not sure if it's a dud, or if it's going to blow up any second in my snotty face. Here's what I mean:

Scientists say ants can count.

Scientists trained desert ants, Cataglyphis fortis, to walk along a straight path from their nest entrance to a feeder 30 feet away. If the nest or feeder was moved, the ants would break from their straight path after reaching the anticipated spot and search for their goal.

Next, the researchers performed a little cosmetic surgery.

They glued stilt-like extensions to the legs of some ants to lengthen stride. The researchers shortened other ants' stride length by cutting off the critters' feet and lower legs, reducing their legs to stumps.
…
The ants on stilts took the right number of steps, but because of their increased stride length, marched past their goal. Stump-legged ants, meanwhile, fell short of the goal.
-http://www.livescience.com

Ants on stilts? Now this is why we need controls on evil scientists.

What if those mechanically mutated ants had gotten loose? Can you imagine an army of desert ants eight feet tall and marching straight toward you? Creepy? Apocalyptic? Hell, yes.

Save me, Tom Cruise. Save me.

I have a summer cold, a Robitussin hangover, and life as I know it is coming to an end.

Google Trends

2006-06-29T16:25:00.000-04:00

Google has a site where you can trend one keyword against another to gage the relative popularity of each. Just go to the site and enter two searches separated by a comma. The URL is http://www.google.com/trends

Here's how I stack up against cat poop:

I'm on a mission to become more popular than cat poop.

If you really want to watch a battle... check out cat poop versus presbyterians. They're neck and neck each month.

God only knows why.

** On a positive note: Frost is kicking Bukowski's arse.

Invisible Technorati Tags:
Humor
Life
Funny
Fun
Blog
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Blog
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I trade my soul for pennies

2006-06-28T18:07:00.000-04:00

My advertising experiment was a dismal failure. I'm forbidden to reveal my earnings over the two-week trial, but I can tell you that it rhymes with "smixty-smix sments." I smuck at advertising.

Anyhoo - now I'm hawking poetry gifts. I probably smuck at poetry gifts, too.

I'm pretty sure having no pride is some sort of sin, but hey - I'm going to hell anyway. Why not shoot for a management position?

I've just realized something... if I take my hands off the keyboard… less idiocy comes out.

Wanna buy a Campaign Shirt?

2006-06-27T16:29:00.000-04:00

Poetry in the Bathroom

2006-06-25T12:32:00.000-04:00

I’ve been toying with the idea of creating a cheap paperback bathroom book. It would be a sort of word-find, but with poetry. I think a series of these could make me very wealthy.

The book would contain at least 25 boring poems and only 1 interesting one. Readers would sit in the bathroom for twenty minutes and try to find the good poem. If they found it, they could circle it with a pencil.

The only thing holding me back is a fear of being sued by Poetry magazine for stealing their concept.

Problem Solved

2006-06-23T16:43:00.000-04:00

The literary blogosphere is abuzz with harsh criticism of our new Poet Laureate, Donald Hall.

Few Poets Laureate can please everyone, but I think it’s possible to please far more people – and to save the exorbitant salaries we pay these uber-poets. 35K / yr would go a long way toward eliminating our national debt.

I will be using my mainly imagined blogging influence to force a restructuring of the office of Poet Laureate.

Instead of a Poet Laureate, we will now have a Dead Poet Laureate – preferably somebody dead enough to be above reproach.

The appointment shall comply with the following provisions:

The Dead Poet Laureate shall be appointed for life.

The DePo Laureate shall be solely responsible for approval of changes to literary educational policy.

Declarations of war shall henceforth require a two-thirds majority vote of congress – and the verbal approval of the Dead Poet Laureate.

In the event of a disputed presidential election, the Dead Poet Laureate shall assume the Presidency.

I will probably appoint Robert Frost as the US DePo Laureate, but if someone knows a dead-er American poet, I'm open to ideas.

latest strategy for taking over the world

2006-06-23T00:36:00.000-04:00

I recently joined a few online blog communities, hoping to learn and thereby improve my blogability. I don't know if it'll help my poetic blogitude or not, but I have something like 36,000 banner adverts running on blog community sites such as blog explosion (I won some kind of lottery thing.) I created this banner after about four bottles of stout:

So... if you've followed an alcohol-induced banner here in hopes of finding a few poems that don't suck, I sincerely apologize. Beer makes for strange bedfellows.

Poetry Thursday

2006-06-22T13:57:00.000-04:00

Well, it's poetry Thursday, and I must post a poem. Again.

Michi Gabriel says my next poem must be titled "The Brandenburg Nightmares, Part I: Watermelon Quickstep." I've been working on this now for several minutes, but a poem of such sweeping scope deserves at least a half-hour's effort.

Whilst you wait... here's another Frost-y poem from the archives:

The Pie Not Taken

Two pies seduced in a yellow fridge
And sorry I could not eat both
And be on Atkins, I stood a smidge
And looked down long on the crusty ridge
and gave foul Atkins a vile oath;

Then took one from the fridgidaire,
And meeting perhaps the diet claim
'Cause it was thinner, stuffed with pear;
Though as for that the syrup there
Had made them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
with crusts no knife had tried to hack.
I kept the peach for another day!
Yet knowing how children eat away,
I worried I'd not get that snack.

I shall be telling this with huge thigh
Covered with hungry grandkids hence:
Two pies seduced in a fridge, and I--
I ate the thin one - the tiny pie
first, and it made no difference.

Simple Solutions for Computer Problems

2006-06-21T15:26:00.000-04:00

Since Sarah and several others are having troubles publishing blogger posts on their computers, I thought I'd offer a few quick fixes for common problems with the Blogger interface.

Blogger supports several computer browsers, but they only recommend Firefox. So do I. It's free and full of features. You'll be hard-pressed to find a tech anywhere who endorses Internet Explorer.

Sometimes a connection issue can be resolved by closing your browser window and restarting . This starts another browser session, grabs (hopefully) different internet hops along the way, and may connect with a different blogger server. Try this first!

Make a backup of your template! Several people have reported corrupted templates in the past few weeks (apparently, Blogger is still having database issues.) Go into your dashboard, click the template tab, then copy and paste everything you see there into a notepad file. Save the file with a name unique to the backup date. Exit blogger without saving any changes to the template (just close the window.)

To restore from backup, delete everything in the old template, paste your backup copy in the window, then save and republish the entire blog.

Often your sidebar links will slip to the bottom of the computer screen. This is usually caused by uploading an image too large for the DIV, or by using an unwrapped text anchor link that extends beyond the limits of the DIV for your particular template. To fix this, click your previous posts until the problem goes away. Identify the one post that is causing the trouble with everything else on the page, then edit - paying particular attention to photos and links.

Surfing the Po-blogs

2006-06-21T13:28:00.000-04:00

Are you new to the blogworld of poetry? Here's a few blogs to check out:

Sarah Sloat has won Second Place in the IBPC poem of the year competition. Head over to The Rain in My Purse and congratulate her.

Julie Carter of Carter's Little Pill invites you to check out poet Steve Kronen. Scroll down to "After Viewing Twelve Versions of Madonna and Child." You won't be sorry.

Michi Gabriel is offering to name your next poem.

The somewhat weird Arlene Ang wonders why her parents named her something they couldn't pronounce.

The exceptionally weird Radish King is terrorized by her own deranged knee.

it's a blog-eat-blog world

2006-06-20T00:07:00.000-04:00

Those snooty little "My blog is worth $11,084.14 - how much is YOUR blog worth" banners are really starting to irritate me.

Lest we forget:

Life as a Bryant

2006-06-19T10:52:00.000-04:00

Snippets of a few conversations:

Brenda's Boss to Brenda: "I just asked your husband how he got you to marry him. You won't believe what he said."
Brenda: "Did he say I was retarded?"
Brenda's Boss: "How did you know?"

Brenda, at dinner: "Andrew - would you like asparagus?"
Andrew: "What makes you think an 11-year-old boy would like asparagus?"

UPS client, this morning at 4 am: "I'm sorry to call so early. I didn't wake you, did I?"
Me: "No, sir. I had to get up to answer the phone anyway."
UPS client: "I'm glad. I didn't want to wake you."

Brenda: "I sit too much. I should stand more often and lose this weight."
Me: "You never see elephants sitting around, and it doesn't help them."
Brenda: "If brains were taxed, you'd get a huge rebate."

Brenda: "I'm thinking of starting a prayer blog."
Me: "I don't think God will surf your blog, and I just can't see Him using feedburner."
Brenda: "I don't know what your problem is, but I bet it's hard to pronounce."

Brenda: "You're lucky I married you."
Me: "I could have any woman I please."
Brenda: "That's true... but you don't please any."
Invisible Technorati Tags:Humor Life Funny Fun Blog

Parental Love

2006-06-18T01:40:00.000-04:00

It's Father's Day, and I've been remembering my father. I've been thinking about unconditional love; where it comes from, where it goes.

My wife loves me, and it's magic. By "magic", I mean she will kiss me and close her eyes - wishing I'd turn into a handsome prince.

I don't blame her. I wouldn't want to be caught frenching a frog, either.

Anyway - back to parental love: Is a parent's love for a child is the greatest love one human can have for another? I wonder.

When I was a child, no one loved me nearly as much as my mother did, but - if it was raining out - who did she send to get the newspaper?

I was happy to get that paper. I would have never sat by and let my mother go out in the storm. It would have been unthinkable.

My family and I went out for a Father's Day dinner tonight, and my eleven-year-old son held the door for me. It was nothing special - he does this all of the time. He visits my blog a half-dozen times each day while I'm at work. My ex says he does this to feel closer to me.

I pick Andrew up from his mother's every Tuesday for Boy Scout meetings, and every Friday at 6 for our weekends together. He calls every Friday at 530 to make sure I am not late. He meets me at the street, even though I always go inside for a half-hour or so to chat with the ex and her husband.

Do I love Andrew? Absolutely. I love him and his sister - with all of the strength within me. Is it the greatest love there is? It would be flattering to think so, but it would also be wrong.

There is no greater love than the love of a child.

It's Poetry Thursday!

2006-06-15T11:54:00.000-04:00

Stopping My Pole-Dance On A Frosty Evening

Whose bills these were I do not know.
Her cash is crisp and pokes me though;
She must have caught me dancing here
And stuffed my underwear with dough.
Those hoarse gals sure must think it queer
For me to turn and stop in fear
In mid-dance of disco song,
Ignoring cries of lusty cheer.
They watch me dig inside my thong
And know there must be something wrong.
Still - cash is waved, they want to peep
But I won't move to where they throng.
Their ones are lovely - rent ain't cheap.
But I have Little-Elvis to keep,
And papercuts can go real deep,
And papercuts can go real deep.

I heart poetry dot com

2006-06-14T22:36:00.000-04:00

How do I know if I won your contest?
Winners are notified immediately. Congratulations! You've won our contest!

So you're going to publish my poem? In a real book?
Yes - with real paper and everything. The title will be "Trees - Shmees."

Wait a minute... Did I really just win your contest?
Yes! You're not going to believe this, but... You're about to become a semifinalist for our $1,000 and $10,000 prizes! We'll soon ask you to attend a poet's conference!

It's like you know the future. How are you doing this?
We also run a psychic friends website. Now you're thinking about......
spitting your gum so you can walk to the mailbox without falling.

Amazing! Will I find anything exciting in my mailbox?
Almost. If the government hadn't stopped Publisher's Clearing House...
we're pretty sure you might've already been a winner.

What can I do about the government cheating me of my winnings?
Write your congressman. Use the spell-check, insert a paragraph break every 12 lines or so, do not mention poetry.com, and do not include a copy of your poem.

Invisible Technorati Tags:
Humor
Life
Funny
Fun
Blog
Blog
Blog
Blog

Donald Hall

2006-06-14T13:56:00.000-04:00

Thanks to Jilly Dybka of Poetry Hut

Donald Hall is an activist for the cause of artistic freedom, an outspoken critic of the religious right's influence on the arts, an extraordinary poet, and is also the new Poet Laureate of the United States.

Robert Pinsky, who was poet laureate from 1997 to 2000, said he welcomed Mr. Hall's appointment, especially in light of his previous outspokenness about politics and the arts. "There is something nicely symbolic, and maybe surprising," Mr. Pinsky said, "that they have selected someone who has taken a stand for freedom." -http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/14/books/14poet.html

Asked what he will do to advocate for poetry during his roughly two-year term, Hall said he hadn't figured that out yet, despite his friend Rector having forwarded a helpful list of more than 80 suggestions. ("It made me tired," Hall joked.) One of his own initial thoughts, which he called a "wild idea," was to help start a poetry channel on one of the satellite radio networks.
-http://www.washingtonpost.com/
wp-dyn/content/article/2006/06/13/AR2006061301731.html

Should we (the blogging poets) forward our own list? What would top your list of new poetry initiatives?

surf's up!

2006-06-14T12:46:00.000-04:00

Here's what's going on in my favorite po-blogs:

Frank Wilson of Books Inq finds new poetry: rennie d

Joyless Julie Carter

Not only does Lauren need glasses, she can't hear the phone

Michi Gabriel wonders why the mastodon dentist is too busy to write

Pris Campbell writes about The Who

Jenni goes time-traveling and forgets the bomb

Arlene Ang is taking time off from writing... to kill her driving instructor

Bud Bloom seeks the gods of poetry

Laurel Dodge regrets the screaming of horses

Rachel Dachus posts a rare first draft

Signs for the Workshop

2006-06-12T19:57:00.000-04:00

Dominionism, Sharia, or whatever else you want to call it

2006-06-11T14:50:00.000-04:00

Pharmaceutical giants Merck and GlaxoSmithKline are gearing up for a bruising showdown with America's religious right after the US medicines regulator approved a new blockbuster cervical cancer vaccine last week.

Conservative groups, including the influential Family Research Council (FRC), have voiced concerns that immunising young girls against the virus that most regularly causes cervical cancer, Human Papilloma- virus, may lead to sexual promiscuity. "We would oppose any measures to legally require vaccination or to coerce parents into authorising it," wrote the FRC in a recent letter to the US government. "Our primary concern is with the message that would be delivered to nine- to 12-year-olds with the administration of the vaccines. Care must be taken not to communicate that such an intervention makes all sex 'safe'."

... - http://news.independent.co.uk/business/news/article755931.ece

So... let me get this straight - either: Prevent many cervical cancers with early vaccination and risk removing a deterring fear later in life, or... let women die to support a claim that cervical cancer is the wrath of God.

How do you think the religious right would feel about a cure for AIDS?
How about a cure for anything that doesn't support their agenda?

Gay marriage? Heavens no.
Interracial marriage? Okay now, but legally forbidden with religious justification until the fifties and sixties.

Evolution? Don't get me started. According to our president, "the jury is still out."
I'm waiting for them to jump on schools for teaching heliocentric models of planetary motion.

Sometimes, I wish the wrath of God was a real thing and not a direct result of the hatred of ignorant men. I could accept an act of God.

Give a moron a microphone, and most people will ignore him.
Hand that same asstard a bible, and he has instant validity.

*(note: I do NOT think all Christians are stupid. I've known many who were brilliant.)

Blogger is Back

2006-06-08T21:38:00.000-04:00

Wow. It's been awhile, but I'm able to add/edit content to my blog again.

I posted a poem yesterday and immediately had second thoughts (it needs revision) but blogger wouldn't let me in to delete it... so it stayed up.

Blogger is the bane of the unconfident poet.

Since there's an hour or two of poetry Thursday left, here's a poem for you:

Roses are red,
violets are blue.
Blogger is acting up
and I can't delete this crap.

Prophet

2006-06-07T19:53:00.000-04:00

Prophet

When Father first spoke in tongues,
it started small - like the legs of locusts
on the ears of summer corn, jumping
over, and over the buzz of Baptists
until it seemed the sound
swarming through our wooden church
was coming entirely from him;
as if he was an Old Testament Samson
with a beard full of bees, feasting on honey
from the swollen rot of a lion
he carelessly fought and slew.

excuses, excuses

2006-06-06T16:53:00.000-04:00

Do you obsess over poems in progress - so much so that you can't write anything else until it's out?

How do you set a troubling poem aside?

Blogging is on hold today until I get this unwritten poem out of my head.

In the meantime, here is my favorite web game. Simple, pointless, and addictive. You've been warned.

playing with my wife's camera

2006-06-05T20:25:00.000-04:00

A few shots of an old bridge near the house

Poetry in the classroom

2006-06-04T18:42:00.000-04:00

Important Poet #27: Charles Bukowski

contributions to the sum of human knowledge

2006-06-03T12:26:00.000-04:00

Aspirin doesn't really cure headaches - it's the "keep away from children" instruction that does the trick.

Dry toast and toothpaste will remove cat stains from the microwave.

If dogs don't know it's not bacon, neither will your kids.

You can easily hide vodka by pouring it into icecube trays. It won't freeze and no one will bother it.

Diet Coke will kill sperm, but using it for this purpose raises its caloric content to that of regular Coke.

The Beginner's Guide to Online Critique

2006-06-02T17:02:00.000-04:00

Welcome to the world of online poetry critique. You make the rest of us look less amateurish by comparison. We’re glad you’re here!

Here are a few terms and phrases you’re likely to encounter in the workshop:

Nice Poem – Literal translation: “I skimmed your poem and couldn’t find anything clever to say about it, but I have to post a minimum number of critiques. Goodbye now.”

Interesting use of enjambment – Literal translation: “I like how you’ve used the [enter] key to make the right margin all nice and even. Why didn’t I think of that?”

Good luck with this – Literal translation: “Good luck fixing THIS.”

Meter – this is a noun indicating the apparent page length of a boring sonnet.

Initial Capitals – In formal poetry, a poetic device consisting of a personal computer and Microsoft Word.

Free Verse – a type of poem that travels through the air from your hand to the wastebasket.

Tell-y – resembling the work of William Tell, famous for shooting arrows at someone’s head.

The most important thing to remember about workshopping is that the POEM is being critiqued – NOT THE POET. Unless the critique is positive. Then assume we’re talking about the poet.

Let that sink in.

poetry thursday

2006-06-01T12:09:00.001-04:00

Emily, at Thirteen

Beneath the shell
of her white-rust swing-set
the tracks of birds
are an ancient alphabet -
Phoenician letters
on rice-paper sand,
growing random in ways
only birds understand.

playing tag with myself

2006-05-30T09:53:00.000-04:00

13 stupid things about me

1. I'm the general manager at work, but I get very dirty each day.

2. During a business meeting with the GM's of sister companies and the owner, I once declined an offered raise by saying "I didn't want to lose my foodstamps."

3. I have a too-powerful Jacob's Ladder in my office. It generates dangerous levels of ozone and UV, but I turn it on every now and then because I think it's pretty. I spend the rest of the day with scratchy eyeballs and a headache.

4. I was deaf as a child, but can hear fine now (out of one ear.) I still hate to hear poetry spoken. It should be crystallized on the page and silent.

5. I love dashes - I use them every chance I get.

6. Nearly everything I own is homemade, including my air conditioning.

7. I attend church twice each week because it pleases my Methodist wife, but I'm an atheist.

8. I once gave an interview to a trade magazine and made the poor freelance writer read several of my poems. Then I asked her not to include any in the article.

9. I spent four years playing lead guitar for a successful country band, but I detest country music.

10. I left school after ninth grade and went to work full time. I started college six years later. To get a dorm room.

11. I reached puberty and joined the army in the same year.

12. I once joined an IQ society and quit when I realized I joined for stupid reasons.

13. My ex is one of my best friends, but she likes my wife more than she likes me. They sit side by side in church and pray for my salvation.

finding fun on google video

2006-05-29T22:53:00.000-04:00

This guy really gets Frost.

I hope he also gets an A.

VCR Alert

2006-05-27T00:58:00.000-04:00

I'm off to Little Rock for the weekend.

Would someone please tape the internet for me while I'm gone?

I'd hate to miss anything.

Manliness, Navel Gazing, and My Weird Wife

2006-05-25T15:38:00.000-04:00

On Wanting a Better Vagina

Over coffee, she recounts her dream:

I was going down on you,
but you had no penis.
You had a vagina.

It was small
- freakishly small.
There was no odor, no taste
- and I was not disgusted.

She adds the last
like it’s a compliment.
I won’t let it rest.

I want her running in her sleep
on four legs, growling;
sliding past, and clawing back
in animal fascination
to the strength of my sweat.
And if I must have a vagina,
I want a Big Manly Vagina.
She says:

It was only a dream. Stop
being a bitch.

Because I'm lazy

2006-05-23T23:43:00.000-04:00

And I feel I must post something...
Here's an old experimental page poem I wrote for Halloween:

a new national language

2006-05-19T19:23:00.000-04:00

President Bush opposes making English the official language of the United States.

In defense of George W. - he is very busy right now planning our "nucular stratagy for Eye ran" and hasn't the time to learn a new language.

The Extended Image

2006-05-18T13:39:00.000-04:00

I've been preoccupied lately with the mechanics of message – how poets say what they have to say. What makes one image seem to "work" while another falls flat?

Ted Kooser is one of my favorite contemporary poets, so I decided to start my study with his poems. Today I'm studying "Mourners" from page 16 of Delights and Shadows, because it's deceptively simple, strongly image-driven, and succinctly powerful.

Mourners

After the funeral the mourners gather
under the rustling churchyard maples
and talk softly, like clusters of leaves.
White shirt cuffs and collars flash in the shade:
highlights on deep green water.
They came this afternoon to say goodbye,
but now they keep saying hello and hello,
peering into each other's faces
slow to let go of each other's hands.

-by Ted Kooser

Delights and Shadows
Ted Kooser
Copper Canyon Press
ISBN Number: 1556592019

This poem leaves me introspective - thinking about people... how we need each other... how we're all the same... how the act of saying goodbye is an affirmation of life. There's a clear image in my head of a churchyard with rustling green maple leaves and milling mourners reluctant to go.

I'm studying how he delivered this message, taking it line by line:

L1: A rhythmic intro, setting scene and action (mourners gathering)
L2: An image: Leaves rustling in trees.
L3: A comparison of people to leaves on a tree (soft talk and rustling)
L4: An image: Cuffs and collars flashing.
L5: A comparison of one image to another (green related to leaves and life) implying deeper meaning.
L6: A statement in common language (nearly cliche)
L7: Contradiction of above statement, language chosen to echo the point.
L8: An action indicating recognition, and a need for community.
L9: An action indicating reluctance to separate.

Backing up from Kooser's lines and looking at the poem as a whole, I notice certain global relationships between images and comparisons.

The global extended image here seems to be a dappled surface:
1. rustling maples, clusters of leaves
2. cuffs and collars flashing from the shade
3. highlights on green water

The global comparison in this poem seems to imply that a gathering of people is a dappled surface - composed of individual elements, but all basically alike.

There's more going on in this poem than just a few related images, but I'm left wondering if this poem would have been as effective and immediate if the images didn't relate so strongly to the developing metaphor. How would this have affected my lingering introspection at the bottom of page 16, long after I finished reading?

** For those very few who don't own Delights and Shadows: Buy it. The imagery is masterful.

decoding the matrix

2006-05-15T13:16:00.000-04:00

error.406:porn.overload

Dear Hallmark, Why won't you return my calls?

2006-05-11T19:18:00.000-04:00

Butterfly Magic

Deep inside the woodland
in a meadow rarely seen,
she kneels beside a daisy
in a circling field of green.

My arm is soft around her
like a child with a butterfly -
afraid to stir the stillness
that keeps it from the sky.

A fragile spell holds her bound -
a fairy wreath of chance
that’s simple magic, yet profound:
I am the one entranced

in the middle of a moment,
in the promise of a vow
of rapture in the present -
an infinity of now

stretching on, slow as sunshine
in a meadow rarely seen
with a wandering daisy
stranded in the green.

Must See TV

2006-05-09T12:46:00.000-04:00

say what?

2006-05-07T21:31:00.001-04:00

Oh well... they can always read a transcript online...
_____________________

By DEB RIECHMANN
STILLWATER, Okla. May 6, 2006 (AP)— President Bush advised college graduates on Saturday to use technology but not become enslaved by it.

"Science offers the prospect of eventual cures for terrible diseases and temptations to manipulate life and violate human dignity," Bush said during commencement exercises at Oklahoma State University. "With the Internet, you can communicate instantly with someone halfway across the world and isolate yourself from your family and your neighbors."

After the speech, some graduates said they couldn't make out clearly what Bush said because of an echo in the audio system at Boone Pickens Stadium.

http://abcnews.go.com/US/wireStory?id=1931297

________________

"Enslaved by Technology?" Not as long as we're protected by the genius of Bill Gates.

Thanks to Windows, computers will never get too powerful and take over the earth.

when in doubt... shake it out

2006-05-07T20:30:00.000-04:00

brought to you by the letter S

2006-05-07T17:36:00.000-04:00

her breath as she sleeps
swoops like a seagull
feeding by starlight
on diamonds of deep

the pope game

2006-05-07T00:34:00.000-04:00

For some reason, my eleven-year-old son is interested in Catholicism – in particular, how one becomes pope and how popes get their names.

I explained the whole thing to him, then we spent the rest of the day deciding what name we’d choose for ourselves if we were accidentally voted "Pope."

My son decided he would be “Pope-Daddy.”

My daughter got dibs on “Pope O’Gigio.”

I’d like to be “Pope Alishus”

My wife wants to be “pOprah.”

Internet Paper Poetry

2006-05-05T16:18:00.000-04:00

As one of the few active poetry enthusiasts who did not major in the liberal arts, I’m often consulted for technical advice on website coding – particularly with respect to e-zine publishing. One thing that strikes me odd: Why must our e-zines be so stale and lifeless? Why are my e-zines stale and lifeless?

Am I trying to emulate the classy feel of a print magazine?

One of these days, we’re going to realize that we’re in a different ballgame here, and the internet poetry scene will quit trying to publish print periodicals online. The internet is now – real time, in motion - and growing rapidly. Imagine what we could accomplish if we allowed our craft to expand in ways that could never be expressed on paper.

Imagine a page poem presented as a sound file, with two alternating voices in different rhythms. Imagine one voice replacing the line breaks. Imagine poetic “bridges” where the spoken rhythm varies from the established pattern. Imagine words as a stream of video – paced exactly as the poet intended. Imagine faded visual refrains dispaying related metaphors in the background of a central image.

Be sure to check out beau blue's cafe at http://members.cruzio.com/~cafe to see what he's doing with multimedia poetry.

Imagine saying something in a completely new way.

That’s what poets do.

Overcomplicating the blog

2006-05-05T13:16:00.000-04:00

In my neverending quest for cuteness, I've converted a free css file from css zen garden into a blogger template.

Anyone with an eye for design care to comment?

Too un-bloggy?

programmed for plagiarism

2006-05-04T11:11:00.000-04:00

From an article in Thursday's Harvard Crimson:

If several rounds of editors at Viswanathan's publishing house, Little, Brown, couldn't weed the words of other writers from the sophomore's novel before it went to press, how can professors and teaching fellows at Harvard expect to police plagiarism in coursework?

An Oakland, Calif.-based software company says it has a solution.

The company's anti-plagiarism system, TurnItIn, scans student papers for similarities with previous work.
__________

I bet if you fed TurnItIn a hundred MFA workshop poems, it would explode.

What I found most interesting was this oh-so-subtle question:
"If an editor of a crappy teenage novel can't do so...
...how the heck can we expect this of a mere Harvard professor?"

writer's block

2006-05-02T22:14:00.000-04:00

A Poetry Book

It's a ragged thing with a bad spine
and torn ears, listening to every click
and tap of the typewriter, looking over
now and again in the pauses, begging
for attention - to have the commas
scratched from its fur.

fun with microsoft paint

2006-05-02T12:25:00.000-04:00

I try my hand at a comic strip

2006-04-30T19:04:00.000-04:00

A tshirt design, in honor of national poetry month

2006-04-29T17:59:00.000-04:00

Hell

2006-04-28T11:13:00.000-04:00

Internet poetry
is Sisyphus at a computer
pushing his lost sleep
into Microsoft Word
and finding it again
fallen on his desk
each morning.

...and heaven

2006-04-28T10:38:00.000-04:00

when god speaks

these days
he mumbles

a million little things
like it's cold outside

and have you turned off the stove
and isn't that baby beautiful

and on
and on without end

as if you'd notice
a million little things

Grief, and Pressure

2006-04-27T01:10:00.000-04:00

It's been a rough day at work again. Yet another death in the company this morning (four in seven days, and counting.)

They said it was a heart attack, and I'd like to believe that... but I fear I might be next.

Anyway, I'm working a lot harder. I don't know how much longer I can keep it up, but I'm sure as soon as I slack off... the company "heart attack" will get me.

Photograph

2006-04-26T09:57:00.000-04:00

Photograph

On Mother's wall,
below the photograph
of Father before the cancer:

Against the baseboard,
his Sunday shoes remain -
like he kept smiling and backing up

until his heels touched the wall
and he disappeared
in a brief Hiroshima of light.

r-e-s-p-e-c-t

2006-04-26T00:39:00.000-04:00

I saw the image of God in my bowl of cornflakes this morning,
but I was hungry and ate it anyway.

I guess it was a miracle and I should have saved it, but breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Besides - I'm an imaginative guy and the box is still pretty full... so it could happen again.

Come to think of it...

I bet Jesus only did that "walking on water" miracle once because He didn't want the disciples to pester Him every time somebody dropped a paddle.

I suppose we assume that rare occurences are things to be respected - kind of like me writing a decent poem. And now you know why I rarely write a decent poem.

Paddle with your hands, people.

Shades of Gay

2006-04-24T13:47:00.000-04:00

A while back, a friend and I were discussing attitudes and the gay community. For some stupid reason I'm wondering what the Baptists think, and I'm online reading an article detailing the various church attitudes about homosexuality when this bubble pops out of the tar:

"Homosexuality is an imperfection like colorblindness. It is not quite the fullness of God's blessing. There is no personal culpability, but the condition involves some risks and disadvantages (just as colorblindness can cause some problems -- as I know since I am color-deficient...)"~ Michael L. Westmoreland-White.

I'm left with this shattering observation: Mike's not gay, and he's color-deficient.

Now I'm not PC enough to be "color-deficient," but I am mildly colorblind. Like Mike, I'm also not gay. Don't get me wrong - I'm not fiercely "not-gay," and I'm comfortable enough to be curious. My little gray Vienna sausage of a brain is skipping full-speed down a colorful San Francisco street.

No disrespect to Mike, but I'm wondering if all heterosexual gay-bashing religious zealots are colorblind. I start Googling "Jerry Falwell + colorblindness." No mention of Falwell, but Google thinks I should click hopeforhomosexuals.com.

Jesus Christ on a colorwheel… this ugly-ass site is coded completely in black and white.

Okay, Google: What about Fred Phelps? Yep. Ugly website. Black and white, with just a touch of repressed blue.

Is it that simple? Maybe so. Religious nuts are notoriously simplistic. I expected that. What else? The tiny brain is taking notes.

A lot of men are colorblind.
A lot of men are not gay.
A lot of men have no sense for color coordination in fashion.
A lot of gay men have great fashion sense.

I have to ask. Can a man be gay and colorblind?

Evidently, the question isn't unheard of. Google leads me to a gay rights forum where a member posted a few years ago asking if there was a gay man in the forum who was colorblind. Three years later, not one colorblind gay man has outed himself with a reply. Not one.

My head is swimming, and there's no tanned lifeguard on duty. Life as we know it could change in ways we could never predict.We should definitely explore this. Money should be spent.

Where's the government when you need them to waste millions on frivolous research? Google says they're probably at a ball game, watching men tussle, posing for photo ops, and wolfing foot-long hotdogs. Google assures me they're wearing suits of plain gray.

I can avoid it no longer. The most penetrating question worms its way out of the sausage. I'm a poet. Are most male poets, umm…. not "color-deficient?"

So now I'm asking about poets and colors. Google thinks for a second, then shows me poems with pink bougainvillea and chartreuse walls, warm reds, soothing greens, nurturing blues. The screen is a big pink poodle lounging on a couch of color and contrast. Sheesh. No wonder my friends think all poets are gay.

Great monochrome God... What if they're right?

What if I'm gay, too?

Sure... it was the wife who taped that picture of Tom Cruise to the ceiling, but I've tossed my head back and accidentally looked at it a few times. Criminy.

What if I'm in denial?

Wait! I can't be gay... I'm colorblind! Sweet black and white Jesus, that was a close one.

Another chilling thought, and Internet Explorer grinds to a stop.

When they cure colorblindness - and you know they will - we will all be gay.

There's a cure for heterosexuality. Extinction is inevitable. The last time God killed the world, there was a rainbow on the horizon. Click the browser's back button. Repent.

The end is coming, looking at Tom Cruise.

blogging myself insane

2006-04-23T15:57:00.000-04:00

The Pie Not Taken

Two pies seduced in a yellow fridge
And sorry I could not eat both
And be on Atkins, I stood a smidge
And looked down long on the crusty ridge
and gave foul Atkins a vile oath;

Then took one from the fridgidaire,
And meeting perhaps the diet claim
'Cause it was thinner, stuffed with pear;
Though as for that the syrup there
Had made them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
with crusts no knife had tried to hack.
I kept the peach for another day!
Yet knowing how children eat away,
I worried I'd not get that snack.

I shall be telling this with huge thigh
Covered with hungry grandkids hence:
Two pies seduced in a fridge, and I--
I ate the thin one - the tiny pie
first, and it made no difference.

Oh God... I'm gonna die

2006-04-21T14:01:00.000-04:00

I've attended several church funerals this week, so I'm again considering my own mortality. I can find no comfort in religion, but I don't fault those who do.

I think that we all fear death and the unknown - so much so, that we must stick them into an inscrutable box to hide them away. We can stick all sorts of things into such a box. Some use it to hold their failures, their horrors, their pain, and their inability to comprehend the awful complexity of being that threatens to swallow us whole.

If someone chooses to label their inscrutable box "God" - so be it.

We all have our boxes, and we'll all end up in one.

Carl's Tiny Brain

Lady of the Flies

Touched by an Uncle

Ted Haggard is cured off the gayness!

Edvard Munch, Hillary Clinton, and Microsoft Paint

Going to the dogs

Fishing

Very Superstitious

Poetry is a Lonely Thing

Democracy

I May as Well Go Blogger Myself

A New Day is Dawning

2007 New Year Resolutions

In case there's someone I haven't yet offended...

Great Debates

Update

Why I can't blog

In Today's News

Why they call it Labor Day

disneyland in outer space

I’m Still Alive

Poetry Thursday

It's so hot...

I'm Back

George Bush, Britney Spears, and more Google hits

Poetry Thursday

Independence Day

War of the World

Google Trends

I trade my soul for pennies

Wanna buy a Campaign Shirt?

Poetry in the Bathroom

Problem Solved

latest strategy for taking over the world

Poetry Thursday

Simple Solutions for Computer Problems

Surfing the Po-blogs

it's a blog-eat-blog world

Life as a Bryant

Parental Love

It's Poetry Thursday!

I heart poetry dot com

Donald Hall

surf's up!

Signs for the Workshop

Dominionism, Sharia, or whatever else you want to call it

Blogger is Back

Prophet

excuses, excuses

playing with my wife's camera

Poetry in the classroom

contributions to the sum of human knowledge

The Beginner's Guide to Online Critique

poetry thursday

more on google video

playing tag with myself

finding fun on google video

VCR Alert

Manliness, Navel Gazing, and My Weird Wife

Because I'm lazy

Recommended Reading

a new national language

The Extended Image

decoding the matrix

Dear Hallmark, Why won't you return my calls?

Must See TV

say what?

when in doubt... shake it out

brought to you by the letter S

the pope game

Internet Paper Poetry

Overcomplicating the blog

programmed for plagiarism

writer's block

fun with microsoft paint

I try my hand at a comic strip

A tshirt design, in honor of national poetry month

Hell

...and heaven

Grief, and Pressure