it was so cold in my house today i considered turning on the heat
first, happy birthday cassiopeia7! artist and lover of space who made fabulous art for my bigbang not just once, but twice. :D i hope it's a good one!
dancing boys: *two-step*
second, is anyone watching christian kane's new show, almost paradise? it's cute and kind of dumb and occasionally really pretty. i have zero deep thoughts about (it's not a deep show) it but i'm enjoying it.
my bigbang draft is DONE. it's the draftiest draft that ever drafted and needs so much work, but it has a beginning and a middle and an end (and a title!) and it is DONE. now for the summary. ugh.
constantine is on and i think it's a terrible movie because i keep comparing it to hellblazer and it comes up short, but i can't not watch it. i mean, tilda swinton's amazing.
a cleaner in a library in the uk went to give the place a deep clean and rearranged all the books in size order. my face is a mix of horrified and amused, with a side of wtf?? good thing the libraries are closed right now....
Probably you’ll solve gravity, flesh
out our microbiomics, split our God
particles into their constituent bits
of christs and antichrists probably,
probably you’ll find life as we know it
knitted into nooks of the chattering
cosmos, quaint and bountiful as kismet
and gunfights in the movies probably,
probably, probably you have no patience
for the movies there in your eventual
arrondissement where you have more
credible holography, more inspiring
actual events, your ghazals composed
of crow racket, retrorockets, glaciers
breaking, your discotheques wailing
probably, probably, probably, probably
too late a sentient taxi airlifts you
home over a refurbished riverbank,
above the rebuilt cathedral, your head
dozing easy in the crook of your arm,
emptied of any memory of these weeks
we haven’t slept you’ve been erupting
into that hereafter like a hydrant on fire,
like your mother is an air raid, and I am
an air raid, and you’re a born siren
chasing us out of your airspace probably
we’ve caught 46 daybreaks in 39 days,
little emissary arrived to instruct us,
we wake now you shriek us awake,
we sleep now you leave us to sleep.
--"Probable Poem for the Furious Infant", Jaswinder Bolina
dancing boys: *two-step*
second, is anyone watching christian kane's new show, almost paradise? it's cute and kind of dumb and occasionally really pretty. i have zero deep thoughts about (it's not a deep show) it but i'm enjoying it.
my bigbang draft is DONE. it's the draftiest draft that ever drafted and needs so much work, but it has a beginning and a middle and an end (and a title!) and it is DONE. now for the summary. ugh.
constantine is on and i think it's a terrible movie because i keep comparing it to hellblazer and it comes up short, but i can't not watch it. i mean, tilda swinton's amazing.
a cleaner in a library in the uk went to give the place a deep clean and rearranged all the books in size order. my face is a mix of horrified and amused, with a side of wtf?? good thing the libraries are closed right now....
Probably you’ll solve gravity, flesh
out our microbiomics, split our God
particles into their constituent bits
of christs and antichrists probably,
probably you’ll find life as we know it
knitted into nooks of the chattering
cosmos, quaint and bountiful as kismet
and gunfights in the movies probably,
probably, probably you have no patience
for the movies there in your eventual
arrondissement where you have more
credible holography, more inspiring
actual events, your ghazals composed
of crow racket, retrorockets, glaciers
breaking, your discotheques wailing
probably, probably, probably, probably
too late a sentient taxi airlifts you
home over a refurbished riverbank,
above the rebuilt cathedral, your head
dozing easy in the crook of your arm,
emptied of any memory of these weeks
we haven’t slept you’ve been erupting
into that hereafter like a hydrant on fire,
like your mother is an air raid, and I am
an air raid, and you’re a born siren
chasing us out of your airspace probably
we’ve caught 46 daybreaks in 39 days,
little emissary arrived to instruct us,
we wake now you shriek us awake,
we sleep now you leave us to sleep.
--"Probable Poem for the Furious Infant", Jaswinder Bolina