Not to put too fine a point on it, say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Back when I was still hauling ass to Walter Reed at unspeakable times in the morning, I had the idea that one April Fools Day, I would announce that the recruiting literature had worked on me, and I had decided to enlist in order to serve my country and further my career (and also to get a better parking space there, goddamn), and that I was therefore deleting my journal and all writing immediately, so not to get nailed by the authorities for all that pesky homoeroticism floating around on it.
I never did it, because I was fairly sure the reaction would be a resounding yawn. I'm not really good with clever pranks; mine just fall into the petty spite category.
Anyway, April is also our National Poetry month, so hey. LET'S GET SOME POETRY ALL UP IN HERE.
I'm 90% sure I've posted this poem before, but it's one of my favorites; Lucille Clifton was poet laureate of Maryland, taught at my school, and died recently this year. My interactions with her were fairly nonexistent, outside the campus literary readings, because I was kind of massively intimidated by her. However, she did compliment my writing once.
(And by this, I mean she told Louise, my friend and the class valedictorian, that she liked the valedictorian's address Louise gave at our graduation. Given that Louise was an Economics major and I had actually written the valedictorian's speech for her two nights before graduation, I choose to interpret this as a win in my book. It also served as my dawning of realization in regards to the essentially depressing nature of ghostwriting.)
This poem was painted large on the wall where I climbed the stairs every day to get to the cafeteria. Except for the days when I was too lazy to walk all the way to the cafeteria to eat. Or when it was too cold. Or rainy. Or when we drove fifteen miles off campus to get McDonalds, only to inevitably take the wrong lane and accidentally end up at the Naval Air Station in Patuxent, where a guard with a gun would scowl at us when we meekly asked if we could make a U-turn. Or when we finally got our own townhouse and I was too busy setting our own kitchen on fire. It only happened once that anyone can prove. Shut up.
blessing the boats
by Lucille Clifton
(at St. Mary's)
may the tide
that is entering even now
the lip of our understanding
carry you out
beyond the face of fear
may you kiss
the wind then turn from it
certain that it will
love your back may you
open your eyes to water
water waving forever
and may you in your innocence
sail through this to that
***
Today, I was lectured by a German radiologist on the subject of umlauts.
I have some kind of massive ear infection going on in my left ear at the moment. The last time this happened, I ignored it (unwisely) until it actually burst forth in a terrible rush of unspeakable human fluid and vile effluvia. This time, I went to the doctor to get antibiotics, and so am swallowing horse pills and eating massive amounts of yogurt in an effort to prevent the annoying crotch side effects one sometimes gets with antibiotics.
It also means I am rather temporarily deaf in my left ear, and I am considering carrying a large, Victorian ear trumpet around with me wherever I go. I shall wear skirts with enormous bustles and a brocade smoking jacket. Probably, there will be a ridiculous hat.
The 7 Ballsiest Pranks You Won't Believe Actually Worked: Obligatory Cracked link, in honor of the day.
Alligator found 20 miles out to sea swimming with whales: Stunned researchers came across the Georgia alligator while they were looking for North Atlantic right whales. Nature continues to convince me to never leave my house.
An open letter to conservatives: A painstaking and incredibly detailed letter that still manages to be polite and reasonable.
Neill Cameron's A-Z of Awesomeness: I cannot even begin to describe the absolute awesomeness of this. I really can't. I can't even pick a favorite.
Diesel Iron Man Cologne?: If the Star Trek colognes from a couple link posts back didn't do it for you, maybe this will. Me, I keep getting distracted by the fact the bottle looks like a sex toy that Louise once chased me around the back of a southern Maryland porn store with.
twigcollins: And you know, I was thinking, given how long Robert Downy Jr's been on drugs, and how he's not dead or crazy yet - maybe he doesn't actually have a drug problem. Maybe he's actually really good at drugs.
twigcollins: Hypothesis subject to change the next time he appears in a fountain claiming to be the Lizard King.
This is also the time of year when I begin frenzied work on a regularly recurring project, which basically involves turning a couple hundred unformatted medical abstracts into a polished book within a two week period. So, I will either not be around at all, or I will be around all the time and claiming to be the Lizard King.
I never did it, because I was fairly sure the reaction would be a resounding yawn. I'm not really good with clever pranks; mine just fall into the petty spite category.
Anyway, April is also our National Poetry month, so hey. LET'S GET SOME POETRY ALL UP IN HERE.
I'm 90% sure I've posted this poem before, but it's one of my favorites; Lucille Clifton was poet laureate of Maryland, taught at my school, and died recently this year. My interactions with her were fairly nonexistent, outside the campus literary readings, because I was kind of massively intimidated by her. However, she did compliment my writing once.
(And by this, I mean she told Louise, my friend and the class valedictorian, that she liked the valedictorian's address Louise gave at our graduation. Given that Louise was an Economics major and I had actually written the valedictorian's speech for her two nights before graduation, I choose to interpret this as a win in my book. It also served as my dawning of realization in regards to the essentially depressing nature of ghostwriting.)
This poem was painted large on the wall where I climbed the stairs every day to get to the cafeteria. Except for the days when I was too lazy to walk all the way to the cafeteria to eat. Or when it was too cold. Or rainy. Or when we drove fifteen miles off campus to get McDonalds, only to inevitably take the wrong lane and accidentally end up at the Naval Air Station in Patuxent, where a guard with a gun would scowl at us when we meekly asked if we could make a U-turn. Or when we finally got our own townhouse and I was too busy setting our own kitchen on fire. It only happened once that anyone can prove. Shut up.
blessing the boats
by Lucille Clifton
(at St. Mary's)
may the tide
that is entering even now
the lip of our understanding
carry you out
beyond the face of fear
may you kiss
the wind then turn from it
certain that it will
love your back may you
open your eyes to water
water waving forever
and may you in your innocence
sail through this to that
***
Today, I was lectured by a German radiologist on the subject of umlauts.
I have some kind of massive ear infection going on in my left ear at the moment. The last time this happened, I ignored it (unwisely) until it actually burst forth in a terrible rush of unspeakable human fluid and vile effluvia. This time, I went to the doctor to get antibiotics, and so am swallowing horse pills and eating massive amounts of yogurt in an effort to prevent the annoying crotch side effects one sometimes gets with antibiotics.
It also means I am rather temporarily deaf in my left ear, and I am considering carrying a large, Victorian ear trumpet around with me wherever I go. I shall wear skirts with enormous bustles and a brocade smoking jacket. Probably, there will be a ridiculous hat.
The 7 Ballsiest Pranks You Won't Believe Actually Worked: Obligatory Cracked link, in honor of the day.
Alligator found 20 miles out to sea swimming with whales: Stunned researchers came across the Georgia alligator while they were looking for North Atlantic right whales. Nature continues to convince me to never leave my house.
An open letter to conservatives: A painstaking and incredibly detailed letter that still manages to be polite and reasonable.
Neill Cameron's A-Z of Awesomeness: I cannot even begin to describe the absolute awesomeness of this. I really can't. I can't even pick a favorite.
Diesel Iron Man Cologne?: If the Star Trek colognes from a couple link posts back didn't do it for you, maybe this will. Me, I keep getting distracted by the fact the bottle looks like a sex toy that Louise once chased me around the back of a southern Maryland porn store with.
twigcollins: And you know, I was thinking, given how long Robert Downy Jr's been on drugs, and how he's not dead or crazy yet - maybe he doesn't actually have a drug problem. Maybe he's actually really good at drugs.
twigcollins: Hypothesis subject to change the next time he appears in a fountain claiming to be the Lizard King.
This is also the time of year when I begin frenzied work on a regularly recurring project, which basically involves turning a couple hundred unformatted medical abstracts into a polished book within a two week period. So, I will either not be around at all, or I will be around all the time and claiming to be the Lizard King.