In-Line Skating Rink

back for more whining...

2004-09-16T10:08:00.000-07:00

Reading The Plague, by Camus, and spending many hours playing game after game of Internet Spades. Which is just great for irritated, blurry eyes. And I wonder why I'm getting depressed again. Also, the days are getting shorter, Winter will be upon us before you know it, and we've never really had Summer! Michael was on the Internet yesterday and found a house in Hilo, HI for $179K. He wants to move there and get involved in the Hawaii independence movement. I just want to get involved in SOMETHING. Anything besides all this wasting of time. The days are slipping by so fast. I'll be 40 in less than 4 months. Yeah, I know, there's nothing to do and nowhere to go -- as the Advaita Vendanta people say. Still, why do I have the nagging sensation that I'M WASTING MY LIFE?!?!?

(Did you miss me?)

waiting...

2004-09-03T17:37:00.000-07:00

Back for a limited engagement. Sitting at Sue's desk at In-House Staffing waiting for Helen and enjoying 85 degree weather. Just came from the eye doctor. My left eye is healing very well from the laser surgery last month. My right eye is scheduled for the same procedure in a couple of weeks. What else do you need to know?

Michael is walking over here to meet me and Helen. We're going to hang out with her and her husband, Mark, this evening and talk about wedding plans. Yeah, that's right. Wedding. Ours. Marriage. Husband and wife. But NOT mother and father. (Hey, why do we never say "wife and husband?") So, all you right wing bigots out there who just had your convention in NY City this week, you think marriage has to be heterosexual for procreation purposes? We're not procreating!

Wow. It's really hot in here.

bye for now...

2004-05-22T21:24:00.000-07:00

I'm just not interested in writing these days. I'm interested in sunshine, fresh air, planting a cactus garden, reading books, watching movies, putting together a DVD of old Terry home movies, breathing, sleeping, hot showers, long long walks, Fantasia Barrino, eating food with my friends... a lot of things. But one of those things is not writing. So bye for now. I'll write again when... when I write again.

Bush doctrine working?

2004-05-06T12:19:00.000-07:00

My dad sent me an e-mail today with the subject line: Bush doctrine working? Inside was a link to an article:
http://www.deanesmay.com/archives/006331.html and the request, "Comment on this please." Because I'm a good daughter who always does what her dad asks, here is my comment.

Dean Esmay, the article's author, writes, "But in a part of the world where power has always come first and foremost through the extension of brutality, it is violence and fear that are the fastest way to get respect. They don't think, 'Oh, you're a bully, that makes me mad, I'm going to hit you back.' They think, 'Oh. You're tough. I'd better treat you with respect.'"

This is relevant to an ongoing discussion that Michael and I have been having on the general topic: Can You Dismantle the Master's House Using the Master's Tools? Perhaps you can do it, but then what have you got? Another master whose house can be as easily brought down? An ongoing cycle, or worse, spiral of escalating violence? We, as a nation, won our independence from imperialism through violence: the Revolutionary War. Or did we? Once we threw Britain off our backs, didn't we in turn become the Imperialists?

But let's look at the question a little deeper. Dean gives the example of the psychologist who stands up to her patient:

"Dr. Helen Smith, a forensic psychologist who's worked extensively with violent criminals, says it pretty well:

"'In my private practice, I don't work with terrorists but I do work with violent people. I used to believe (as many of my colleagues still do) that empathizing with my patients and increasing their self-esteem would help them on the path to self-actualization. Of course, for some anxiety-ridden patients who need faith in themselves, the technique of empathy and support works. However, for those patients with serious violent tendencies, just the opposite is true. With those patients, I've found that setting clear boundaries and making judgments about their immoral behavior works like a charm.'

"'Those patients who threatened me backed down only when I got up in their face and told them forcefully to stop -- the slightest hint of fear or intimidation (or sympathy!) on my part was met with increased threats. In the real world of private practice, confronting real murderers, I learned to act in ways that were different from what I had been taught in graduate school.'"

What is Doctor Smith doing that makes her powerful? Is she lashing out with brutality and violence? Or is she standing up to those who are violent and brutal out of a clear and strong sense of purpose? If she had to use physical force, would it be motivated by a lust for brutality or by a deep sense of care and concern for the well-being of both herself and her patient?

See, I think that while sometimes the tools look the same on the outside, maybe what's important is HOW they are used. Two people could use the same gun in self-defense. One person aims to disable, kill only if unavoidable, so shoots only as many times as necessary. The other person, out of anger and vengeance, shoots to kill and then pumps another couple of rounds for good measure. They have both achieved the short-term goal of self-preservation. But is the attacker gone? In the first case, yes. In the second, the victim has become the attacker, and the cycle continues.

What do you think is going on in Iraq's Abu Ghraib prison today?!?!? We take young boys who have not yet developed a deep sense of self and their place in the world, who are often impoverished financially, intellectually, and (for lack of a better word -- don't cringe Michael) spiritually, and send them out to dismantle the tyrants' kingdoms using the tyrants' tools. GUESS WHAT THEY BECOME? Why should this result shock us? It's common sense. Cause and effect. To liberate Iraq, we send an army of slaves. Is it no wonder the slaves get out of hand when given a little of the master's power?

Bush's language of liberation: what hypocrisy! What hubris! When we ourselves are a nation of slaves. Slaves to our big cars and houses and designer labels. Slaves to an American Dream that is manufactured by Madison Avenue. We are a nation of hungry ghosts: with huge stomachs and tiny mouths, we can never get full. Can never have enough. Always eating, eating, eating. Like the monkey whose paw is caught in the trap and could free himself if only he'd let go of the banana. But he just won't let go of that banana. Most of us have no clue what "liberation" actually means, much less how to free someone else.

So, okay, in practical terms, if the goal is not to "liberate" the Iraqi people but simply to oust one tyrannical regime, we have done that. As far as true liberation, I'm afraid that we are as far from it as we have ever been. That's human. And eventually, either by our own actions or the natural forces of the universe (of which our own actions are, of course, a part, so what I'm really saying is either sooner or later), humanity will be gone. And ultimately, what will any of our efforts have achieved?

a thought...

2004-05-04T11:49:00.000-07:00

Ever wish your life didn't suck so bad? Be glad you don't have Fibrodysplasia Ossificans Progressiva.

Just finished reading Faust. Why? Because of something Jonathan Franzen said in an essay about how it helps to connect with history. To realize that people have always been as f****d up as they are now and that our current problems aren't so extraordinary. That Goethe, either he was ahead of his time or humans just haven't changed all that much. I think it's the latter.

Each little person lives a life, makes mistakes, has revelations, feels special and unique, dies. The next one comes along and does and thinks and feels the same things. And dies. Yes, of course there is change. But from a universal perspective, it's ultimately meaningless. In Faust, everyone gets saved, regardless of their actions. The Lord even loves Mephisto; at least he tells him: I never hated those who were like you. Negation and creation equally necessary.

Next up: Prince, by Ib Michael, recommended by Mark.

Eye Update: 12 straight days of no pain. This morning, Day #13, a nice little bit of cornea-ripping. But at least my flesh is not turning into bone!

American Idol Update: Paula Abdul looked like a drag queen tonight. Jasmine's flower was back in her hair. (My dad must have said something to her.) 2 different performers did Barbra Streisand songs. (Were you peeing on yourself, Mark?) I voted for Fantasia 35 times.

Blog Excuse Update: I haven't been blogging so much lately because... um... I've been writing a lot more in my private journal and... I'm putting together something really great for later (yeah, right)... the weather has been too warm to stay inside at the computer... I'm off caffeine again and can't focus too well... Can't stop listening to stupid things on the news, like Donald Rumsfeld explaining that "It wasn't torture; it was abuse." Oh! My bad... I have too many DVDs to watch and not enough time (next up Elephant and then the original Solaris followed by the George Clooney remake)... and... nobody's really reading this anymore anyway. Right?

freaky friday...

2004-04-24T02:42:00.000-07:00

Oh my God, Steve! On your recommendation, I started Augusten Burroughs's Running With Scissors this morning on Bart. It's now 2:30am, and I just finished it. Each chapter is more horrifyingly unbelievable than the last. I wonder if he and Chuck Pahlaniuk know each other. Except that these stories are supposedly true. I have my doubts. I guess it's possible that so many disturbingly weird things could happen in one house in the course of 5 years to a kid who just happens to have an active imagination as well as a compulsive need to write everything down. But regardless of my skepticism, I'll concede that Burroughs is one hell of a storyteller. Mark and Tomi, this has to be the next reading assignment of the Twisted Scribblers Book Club.

the last days...

2004-04-22T10:46:00.000-07:00

Funny street sign (near Michael's office) or Prophecy? After last night's American Idol results show, I don't know if he/it can last another season. The 3 best singers got the smallest number of votes. The worst singers, the most. When oh when will they stop voting for that dreadful John Stevens? I'm so sad that Jennifer Hudson is gone. A big voice and a big heart. Well, I guess it's to be expected, when you've got people like my dad voting for Jasmine because he likes the flower in her hair vs. people like me who don't even bother to vote. But I'm crazy. That's been established. What's everyone else's problem?

the continuing saga...

2004-04-21T23:41:00.000-07:00

After the puncturation of my eye on Friday, it seemed to be healing great until 6am this morning. Then, BLAM! Searing, ripping pain. So I went to the eye doctor this afternoon, and wouldn't you know, he thinks it's coming along just fine and looks good. Well, that's fine for him to say, but it hurts! So am I crazy? I think maybe I'm crazy. I don't know anymore. I told Michael to let me know if he catches me stabbing myself in the eye -- just in case it's a psychological thing that I am doing to myself without knowing it. Like maybe I have multiple personalities and the BAD BETH is stabbing my eye and the GOOD BETH can't figure out what's going on. OR maybe it is healing like it's supposed to. WHO KNOWS? Certainly not me.

One thing that I do know is that I'm NOT shelling out $300 to see Madonna's concert this time around. In fact, don't cry for me, Mrs. Ritchie, but the truth is I never really loved you after all. So there. I had a whole big essay I was going to post here on the subject, but this EYE THING just trumps everything else, so that, as well as my treatise on the ULTIMATE MEANING OF THE UNIVERSE will have to wait.

things I've loved...

2004-04-18T23:09:00.000-07:00

Since Friday's eye-stabbing, this depression descended... poured on me like thick tar... tears and tears and tears... medicine for a ragged eye? Limp... lethargic... I languish on the sofa watching movies and weeping. Through the blur, a couple of things that have made me smile:

1) The movie, Northfork, which is stark, stunning, and surreal. Read Roger Ebert's review and then rent this film.

2) Fantasia Barrino's rendition of "Summertime" on American Idol this week.

Well, as I'm always reminding Michael, "a couple" means two. So those are the two things that have brought smiles through the tears this weekend. Just too woolly (weary) to think of anything else right now.

there's no place like...

2004-04-16T12:25:00.000-07:00

...Kaiser Eye Care. You thought I was going to say, "home?" Well, that's true. We've been home for 6 days, back to work, and back to American Idol. I've finally posted the photos from our trip:

http://www.coloringthevoid.com/photos/2004-04-EastCoastTrip01.htm

But in under 2 hours, I'll be at Kaiser Eye Care again having anterior stromal micropuncture to finally fix this defective eye! Blessings, prayers, and pagan rituals appreciated.

still alive...

2004-04-10T11:13:00.000-07:00

Typing from Bady's dial-up connection in Turners Falls, MA. The drive here on Thursday was nice, although we got lost in town and drove past their house twice. Rachel is an awesome cook! After Diane's Major Lasagne and Rachel's Fantastic Fritattas and Perfect Peanut Sauce, I may never need to eat again.

Rachel's daughters, 5-year old Mamou and 2-year old Dina, are even cuter than Uncle Edward's cocker spaniels. AND they don't jump up and lick our faces!

Yesterday, we all took a walk to the convenience store and counted Easter Egg trees in people's yards. Last night, we had a Star Trek marathon and have decided to start speaking only in mythological metaphors like the Tamarians.

This afternoon, we will leave here to drive back to New Jersey. Tomorrow morning, we fly back to the West Coast.

My eye has started acting up again, but I think it will last long enough to make the drive back. I have an appointment with Dr. Hamilton on Monday morning.

hot shots...

2004-04-08T10:45:00.000-07:00

Just got back from the shooting range with Michael and his Uncle Edward. We shot at baby animals with a .22 rifle and made them spin; then we shot holes into defenseless paper targets with a .22 handgun. We are bringing home the remains as proof of our savagery.

The eye seems to be doing fine. We drove up to Whittinsville, MA yesterday. Had delicious lasagne with Uncle Edward and his wife Diane. The dogs are cute and all over us. Pictures to come.

Later today, we drive to Turners Falls to visit Michael's sister and family. The weather is perfect, and tuna and egg salad sandwiches are in the works.

news from the arctic...

2004-04-06T13:59:00.000-07:00

Writing from Tenafly, New Jersey. We were supposed to be driving to Boston today, but my eye has decided to relapse! Monday morning, I woke up with biting corneal pain again. Michael's mom, Judy, called her opthalmologist yesterday. Unfortunately, he wasn't available, so I got an appointment with his associate, Dr. Clancy. Dr. Clancy took a cursory look and couldn't find anything wrong. Even when Michael and I asked him to look again. So I spent the day yesterday in pain with watering eye and running nose trying to convince myself that I wasn't crazy.

This morning, instead of driving to Boston, we called and made an appointment with the more senior doctor, Dr. Stabile. He not only located the problem, but drew me a picture of where a NEW EROSION has formed and prescribed antibiotic drops that I am to use every 2 hours. I'm not thrilled about this fouled up cornea, but at least I have proof of sanity (at least where eye pain is concerned.)

If all goes well today, we will attempt the drive tomorrow.

The weather here is actually pretty pleasant today. Yesterday, however, was horrendously cold and windy. But Michael and his mom have been taking good care of me. Last night, Judy cooked a really delicious Passover seder dinner for us. (I have often wondered why Christians don't celebrate Passover.) And Sunday night the three of us went to see "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." I'll have more on that later.

Heat-Seeking Device Seeking... Heat!

2004-04-02T19:14:00.000-08:00

The Bay Area weather today was gorgeous! Warm, sunny, flowers in bloom, allergies flared up all over the place. Fortunately, I'm not a sufferer (as many of my friends are), so for me the day was perfect. Had Peking duck with our accountants in Chinatown. Then met Red for chocolate cake and iced coffee at Just Desserts. But the experience was bitter sweet. Tonight, Michael and I get on a plane for the rain, snow, and freezing temperatures of the East Coast. Question: Is there a way for a body that is so sensitive to cold to find peace?

I feel like I go through my days constantly obsessed with 2 things: food and heat. The food thing is way too complex and freaky to deal with right now. Especially after having succumbed to the biggest fit of gluttony since... oh... last Saturday at Red's house. (Yeah, it's a pattern.) But the heat thing is more manageable since, for the moment, I'm fairly warm.

So, a typical day goes like this: I relinquish the intense warmth of my bed for the cold floors, walls, surfaces of this house around 8:30AM. Put the kettle on and enjoy washing last night's dishes... Mmmmm... hot water. Have my tea (more hot water) and then jump in the shower! As environmentally conscious as I am, I often can't bring myself to leave the tub until the hot water runs out. But it's okay, because now with my super-short haircut, I get to use the blow dryer every day. HEAT!! Then, get dressed, wrap up, sweaters, scarf, gloves, jacket, and off into the cold cold day.

For the rest of the day, I'm pretty much resigned to being cold. It's cold outside. Cold at the office. Cold wherever I end up going. Then, I come home at night to a cold, cold house again, and I don't get warm until it's time for bed -- around 12am. And interestingly, night is when I am at my most depressed.

Depressed and cold. Not accepting the cold. Hating it. Wanting to be warm. The obsession with wanting things different than they are and the disillusionment from knowing that nothing is permanent. Any little bit of heat I find each day (as with any other kind of pleasure) is temporary. Of course, you can argue that unpleasant things are also temporary, and isn't that a cause for relief?

But it's the whole attachment/aversion cycle, isn't it? Unpleasant situations always seem to last too long, while pleasant situations don't last long enough. Push/Pull Push/Pull. The will gets tired finally, gives up. As well it should, finally understanding the utter fultility of the struggle. Depression sets in then. Depression as the bleakness, the absolute hopelessness that precedes... Enlightenment!?!?!?! (I haven't a clue!)

So anyway, we're leaving for the airport in 10 minutes. I've put on my comfy overalls and have a couple of new books to read on the plane. It's maple syrup season in Western Massachussetts, Toscannini's ice cream in Boston, and hot dogs and roasted nuts on the streets of New York City. I'm ready, I think.

recycling...

2004-03-27T23:25:00.000-08:00

The most creative people can find a use for anything:

http://www.sperare.com/spam_poetry/blogger.html

What about a use for depression? Discussions with Michael this morning and Sharon and Nancy this afternoon... Are we the canaries in the mine? Did we sign up for this job somewhere along the way or was it thrust upon us? Drugs can kill the worst of the symptoms -- like throwing a hammer at a blaring smoke alarm. But what do we do then? Get the hell out? Try to put out the flames? Warn others? Or learn to be happy in a burning building? Step into the Void, friends. This is the shape of our world.

All Clues. No Solutions!

2004-03-26T00:39:00.000-08:00

Where has Beth been for the last 10 days? Here are the clues, in no particular order:

Clue #1:

Clue #2:
http://members.kaiserpermanente.org/kpweb/facdir/detailpage.do?
subHeadImgSrc=/kpweb/image/feature/006facdir/norcal/
Body_fresno_servandloc.gif&page=detail&headlineAlt=
Headline%3A%20Fresno%20services%20and%20locations&headlineImgSrc=/kpweb/image/feature/006facdir/norcal/
Body_fresno.gif&bodyContainer=/htmlapp/feature/006facdir/nocal/
nocal_FresnoMedCtr.html#AnchorY

Clue #3:

http://www.willterry.com/Contact.html

Clue #4a:

OUCH!!!

Clue #4b:

Clue #5:

http://www.thestinkingrose.com/

Clue #6:

Somebody has a birthday on March 18.

Clue #7:

Three people from Maryland conveniently stopped in Oakland on their way back from Hawaii -- in time to celebrate a birthday, take a trip to Coalinga, and drive their daughter to many eye appointments at Kaiser.

Clue #8:

Epithelial debridement = scraping away loose chunks of cornea with a spatula.

Clue #9:

Some people have way more serious problems than a damaged eye.

a public service announcement...

2004-03-16T20:49:00.000-08:00

That's right. April 19 - 25 is TV Turn Off Week. Not so hard for me, since I only watch American Idol half-heartedly and the occasional Saturday Night Live. The point is to free your brain from not only the constant barrage of advertising but also the simplistic and often dangerous world view espoused by the mainstream media. The idea is to have an idea, actually. To clear out your mind so that a little creativity can emerge. Get the soil ready. It's Spring!

spring cleaning...

2004-03-15T09:55:00.000-08:00

Time for some changes. Like going back to the gym. I promised Michael I'd meet him at 24-Hour Fitness tonight after meditation. I haven't been since the fall.

Another change: being on time to work every day. The result of another promise -- this one to Jo Anne. A perfect record for 2 weeks now. Today starts the 3rd.

What else? I commented to Michael yesterday that, unlike the past, I have managed to make it to every event on my heavily booked calendar in the last few months. Where oh where did my flakiness go? Or the depression that in the past has ground me into my pillow when I had somewhere to be? I don't think I'm less depressed, but somehow the world has been easier to face.

So anyway, here's another change I need to make: A new domain name. herweirdest.com is just not doing it for me these days. Perhaps because I just don't feel all that weird anymore. What to replace it with? Something inclusive. Something that doesn't have an opposite. I'm open to any and all suggestions!

first son of a first son of a first son of a first son...

2004-03-14T23:28:00.000-08:00

Ruby once told me that the Chinese have a saying: It is more profitable to raise geese than daughters. That proverb came to me today while celebrating the birth of Sandy's son at her Red Egg and Ginger party. Not that the sentiment was expressed explicitly. But I heard it in the pride with which his relatives announced that Samuel is the first son of a first son of a first son of a first son and in the relish with which they called him "the royal baby." Sandy was so beautiful and gracious and so exhausted. Later, on the phone with Red, I swear I could hear her eyes rolling as I told her about it. After all, she was the daughter who threw chairs at the kindergarten boys who tried to lift her skirt and see her underwear. And isn't it funny that of the three siblings in her family, she's the one who made good. As Red would say, "so funny I could just cry."

for the birds...

2004-03-13T23:11:00.000-08:00

I am a VERY serious person. I walked 9 miles today until the soles of my feet were raw. That's SERIOUS. I spent 99 cents on a bean and cheese burrito for lunch (and seriously, all it was filled with were refried beans and jack cheese). I contemplated the flowers as I walked to Lake Merrit and considered the honky tonk band at the farmer's market. On a speckled bench, I followed my breath as children chased pigeons with pieces of bread and frozen desserts. I smiled and seconds later was acutely aware of the smile. The after-image of the smile that is burned into the brain after the actual smile is over. It's like a label: Person who smiles at other humans. It lingers just long enough to be irritating until the next time. And on such a sunny, warm day, there are many next times. (I think I'm developing a little compassion for the excruciating self-consciousness of Dave Eggers, Steve.)

Except, here I am kind of lying. Because I'm not writing this as it happens. Not even the same day. I realize that the entry is dated Saturday, March 13. Do you always believe what you read? Maybe I was actually less self-conscious yesterday than I remember. Maybe, since I'm writing this way after the fact, all that I can recall are those moments I was stuck in my head, and the parts of the day when I was fully present are gone now. Of course they are. This is the present moment now. Sitting at the keyboard, barefoot, furry blue snake wrapped around my neck and Michael tap tapping his own keys across the room.

sexy beast...

2004-03-12T23:27:00.000-08:00

Kill me now; I'm ready. Got the stitches removed from my finger. Got my hair colored and trimmed. Got a full belly (capellini pomodoro w/ roasted chicken at Firewood and chocolate fudge cake from Just Desserts) and got my friends (Mark, Red, Tomi, and Michael). I can go to Hell and be happy. As long as the real devil is as scary sexy as Jeff Galfer was tonight in A.C.T.'s adaptation of Bulgakhov's The Master and Margarita. Wow.

while we were partying...

2004-03-11T23:08:00.000-08:00

...at BPM's annual Irish Coffee Party, the California Supreme Court ordered an immediate halt to same-sex weddings in San Francisco. Reminds me of December, 1999 when Willie Brown kicked Tom Ammiano's written-in butt while we were partying at the Black Cat during Aunt Ann's annual Christmas party. What is this about? Hey, Universe! There are more direct ways of punishing me for drinking. I mean, aren't the nausea, hangover, and depression enough? Do you have to hold me responsible for the lives of innocent San Franciscans too?

the shape of the journey...

2004-03-10T21:22:00.000-08:00

Why is it so hard to sit on BART and just be? Why this compulsion for something to read, to wrap our minds around, to distract? Magazine and newspaper racks line the wall of the BART station, just in case you come unprepared. Is it because without something to read, we might accidentally look at someone else? And worse, they might see us looking at them? People are always telling me to stop staring. And yet, besides the exhibitionists, doesn't everyone secretly crave to be seen?

Well, alright, enough of that. If I'm going to read, I might as well give some thought to WHAT it is I'm reading. All this talk about how great reading is, how reading expands your mind. The literacy zealots would have you believe that books are inherently sacred. They are not. Books are like food. There's fast food (And God help you if you try to blame McDonald's for your own lack of self-control!) and health food and everything else in between. There's eating for basic nutrition, for escape, for pleasure, for social reasons... just as there is reading for basic information, for escape, pleasure, knowledge, self-improvement... Shouldn't what we feed our minds be at least as important as what we feed our bodies?

I think I'd rather sit and stare at other passengers than organize my trip around some collection of printed words whose sole purpose is to distract me, or worse, sell me something. I'd rather have a little human contact here and there than increase my alienation by keeping my head in a book.

Here's a thought: maybe one way to have both (human connection and also distraction) is to read things that other people have given me. Last week, I read Sea Glass, by Anita Shreve, which Marla lent to me months ago. If I'd bought the book myself, I'd have been disappointed by it. But since it's one of her favorite books, I guess reading it connected me a bit more to Marla. The Alchemist, which I read on Monday, not only connected me to Sonia, but also Madonna. (Not that I care.) And Girl-Child, read tonight, gave me scary insight into Tomi. She didn't just give me the book; she wrote it!

not with a bang but a wimper...

2004-03-09T22:08:00.000-08:00

Apologies in advance to T.S. Eliot, but listen carefully when the American Idol kids sing. Deep within those high notes squeezed so earnestly out the tops of their heads, aren't they are only crying:

We are the hollow ones
We are the stuffed ones
Yearning together
Heads filled with air, Alas!
Our tight voices, when
We sing together
Are hysterical and meaningless
As wind through a tunnel
Or smoke alarms sounding
In an empty house.

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who will cross
With direct eyes, to AI’s fourth season
Remember us – if at all – not as hot
Brilliant stars , but only
As the hollow ones
The stuffed ones.

*************

And not so deeply hidden within the regular events of this day...

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow

Why doesn't my new cell phone work?

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow

Gotta empty the Spam folder.

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow

Just one more hand of Free Cell.

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but with a whimper.

starring Aunt Ann's...

2004-03-08T13:20:00.000-08:00

Watch Find on KQED tonight and you might see me and the other gals of Aunt Ann's answering phones during the Pledge Drive.

Okay, going out now! The temperature's supposed to be 80 degrees today!

LATER: Well, here we are...

Didja see us?