Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
May 16, 2012
What a horrible day today was. Small wonder I'm writing a novel fueled by hate. I've got plenty of it, hate, and it's practically rocket fuel. In fact, I feel it now, hate, and I'm just itching to light the candle. That's right, keep bringing the hate, and we'll see where we end up.
One bright spot, or I should say two. No one's ever written of it, I think. Faulkner touches on it when Darl contemplates the sound it makes on the roof. Mine has to do with smell and memory. First the memory part.
A tiger has gotten married, that's what a sunshower signifies. Bright, dazzling, and miraculous, those are the words which apply. If you've ever been lucky enough to experience it (I'm sure most of you have), remember those words, or think of your own. Don't plagiarize, 'cause I'll know. See how easily we revert to life's shit. In fact shit makes up 90 % of life. No wonder misery is our common lot. Don't deny it. Don't put up a brave face 'cause that's the decent thing to do. You'll end up fooling yourself and then where will you be? Might as well be miserable and get it over with.
The dust in the air dampens and settles to the ground. This only happens on overcast days when something triggers a gentle rain. Could it be: Souls alike sharing a glance, lamenting their mutually exclusive fates? Or am I romantic ass? No, the reason why it rains is because...(your cue Andy Parker)...he's not cooperating. As I was saying, there's a certain smell in the air when it rains like this, the smell of earth and loam. Melancholy. My fate.
One bright spot, or I should say two. No one's ever written of it, I think. Faulkner touches on it when Darl contemplates the sound it makes on the roof. Mine has to do with smell and memory. First the memory part.
A tiger has gotten married, that's what a sunshower signifies. Bright, dazzling, and miraculous, those are the words which apply. If you've ever been lucky enough to experience it (I'm sure most of you have), remember those words, or think of your own. Don't plagiarize, 'cause I'll know. See how easily we revert to life's shit. In fact shit makes up 90 % of life. No wonder misery is our common lot. Don't deny it. Don't put up a brave face 'cause that's the decent thing to do. You'll end up fooling yourself and then where will you be? Might as well be miserable and get it over with.
The dust in the air dampens and settles to the ground. This only happens on overcast days when something triggers a gentle rain. Could it be: Souls alike sharing a glance, lamenting their mutually exclusive fates? Or am I romantic ass? No, the reason why it rains is because...(your cue Andy Parker)...he's not cooperating. As I was saying, there's a certain smell in the air when it rains like this, the smell of earth and loam. Melancholy. My fate.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
_Underworld_by Don DeLillo
According to Harold Bloom, Underworld is along with Blood Meridian and one other novel, Gravity's Rainbow (?) The Recognitions (?), one of the three greatest of America's post WW II (?) novels. (I'm not sure of the exact categorization...At any rate, one of America's three most highly regarded.) So I had to read it, and my initial reaction is, "I don't know about that..."
I'm not a particular fan of fictionalizing real people; DeLillo fictionalizes J. Edgar Hoover, Frank Sinatra, Jackie Gleason, Lenny Bruce, and maybe one or two others. (I had to read quickly as the 800 plus page-novel was a library loan.) Of those real, famous people, the depiction of Lenny Bruce kept me absorbed, which is to say that the other depictions didn't.
The main character is Nick Shay (if memory serves), a boy who grows up without a father in Bronx, New York, falls in love with a woman about 20 years his senior, kills a man for which he is incarcerated (as a juvenile delinquent), and who, in spite of all, manages to make something of himself, getting married to a woman more or less his age, siring a daughter, and landing a lucrative, stable job in the toxic waste disposal industry. And that's about all I recall of the novel, and I'm not even sure if those recollections of mine are all that accurate. As I said, "I don't know about that...Harold Bloom's assertion that Underworld is one of the three greatest of America's post WW II novels."
I'm not a particular fan of fictionalizing real people; DeLillo fictionalizes J. Edgar Hoover, Frank Sinatra, Jackie Gleason, Lenny Bruce, and maybe one or two others. (I had to read quickly as the 800 plus page-novel was a library loan.) Of those real, famous people, the depiction of Lenny Bruce kept me absorbed, which is to say that the other depictions didn't.
The main character is Nick Shay (if memory serves), a boy who grows up without a father in Bronx, New York, falls in love with a woman about 20 years his senior, kills a man for which he is incarcerated (as a juvenile delinquent), and who, in spite of all, manages to make something of himself, getting married to a woman more or less his age, siring a daughter, and landing a lucrative, stable job in the toxic waste disposal industry. And that's about all I recall of the novel, and I'm not even sure if those recollections of mine are all that accurate. As I said, "I don't know about that...Harold Bloom's assertion that Underworld is one of the three greatest of America's post WW II novels."
Image Source: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/15/books/don-delillos-underworld-still-holds-power.html
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Golf is back...
...as far as the casual fan is concerned. (Tiger wins the 2012 Arnold Palmer Invitational.)
Image Source: http://galleries.pgatour.com/gallery/tiger-woods-golfer-gallery#image=0azk4yXfcr6E8&view=filmstrip
Friday, March 16, 2012
Trivia of the Day
The Christ in Jesus Christ is actually a title meaning The Anointed One. Thus Christ Jesus is more logical in terms of its sequence.
Calabria, population 2 million, is the toe of Italy's boot.
Calabria, population 2 million, is the toe of Italy's boot.
Friday, March 9, 2012
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