interesting...
march 9, 1978 12am
PISCES
Sagittarius Rising:
If your Rising Sign is in Sagittarius, happy is how people see you. Doesn't matter if you're in a foul mood, you look for all the world to be the consummate optimist, the open, friendly adventurer typified by Sagittarius. On the other hand, Sagittarians are often restless and contentious; they bore easily and sometimes pick fights for the fun of it. You give an impression of such indifference that others may say some crazy, unexpected or even hurtful things to you, expecting their comments to roll right off your back! You can't help it -- you're just exuding that characteristic Archer cool.
Your Moon is in Pisces
Tenderhearted and sympathetic to an unusual degree, you have an understanding of other people's feelings and needs which borders on being telepathic. You are extremely compassionate and cannot bear to see any fellow creature - be it human or animal -suffer. Because of your kindness and nonjudgmental attitude, people in pain or confusion are drawn to you for help, which you readily give. Sometimes your softheartedness is taken advantage of.
You are a gentle, poetic soul and have a great love and affinity for music. Because many of your feelings are nebulous and vague and you cannot easily verbalize how you experience life, music seems a natural language for you. You are also tremendously romantic and are often "in love with love".
8.24.2004
just got a phone call from Jay Starr, whom i ran into on the street outside Mercury Lounge last night. it seems he is back in town from San Francisco and he's getting the band back together.
best! news! ever!
this means that every Tuesday yours truly will be back onstage, singing my heart out at Bailey's Corner on 85th and York Ave.
let's see if i can get my boys to cover some Be Good Tanyas tunes in addition to the old repertoire. hm... Ship on the Sea... we can probably do some Iron and Wine, too... 'Such great heights,'
I bet Jane Siberry's 'Calling all Angels,' would be lovely with a banjo and a violin.
weeeeeeee!
best! news! ever!
this means that every Tuesday yours truly will be back onstage, singing my heart out at Bailey's Corner on 85th and York Ave.
let's see if i can get my boys to cover some Be Good Tanyas tunes in addition to the old repertoire. hm... Ship on the Sea... we can probably do some Iron and Wine, too... 'Such great heights,'
I bet Jane Siberry's 'Calling all Angels,' would be lovely with a banjo and a violin.
weeeeeeee!
i feel i have learned something
i am not sure i wanted to know-
as ineffable as the smell of sleep,
as whispery as the white fuzz shaved from a thousand peaches,
though not as sweet
as these.
that dark head against the pillow-
a fan of light spreading from the cracks in my shutters-
the breadlike smell of beer-
the silence in my chest, and trailing from my feet-
as i walk back and forth, afraid to wake you-
my friend.
hands and faces, eyes,
have a look of tenderness this morning,
surrounded by white,
closed up from the world like the raveling ends of a long, soft fog
creeping back
did you hold me so tenderly once?
here is what i know:
i don't know you.
i am not sure i wanted to know-
as ineffable as the smell of sleep,
as whispery as the white fuzz shaved from a thousand peaches,
though not as sweet
as these.
that dark head against the pillow-
a fan of light spreading from the cracks in my shutters-
the breadlike smell of beer-
the silence in my chest, and trailing from my feet-
as i walk back and forth, afraid to wake you-
my friend.
hands and faces, eyes,
have a look of tenderness this morning,
surrounded by white,
closed up from the world like the raveling ends of a long, soft fog
creeping back
did you hold me so tenderly once?
here is what i know:
i don't know you.
8.23.2004
excluding friday into saturday afternoon, which definitely did not suck in the slightest, it wasn't exactly a swell rest-of-the-weekend.
wilcox's phone call and subsequent visit, inspiring an exciting mini-anxiety attack, and then the disaster of my little get-together, which i just didn't really enjoy very much at all. note to self - never throw another party. my (dare i say it? ha!) 'date' ignored me completely, to the extent of actually arriving before i did, playing cards with three women, getting plastered, and sitting with his back to me the whole time in front of ten of my closest friends.
oh, humility, oh.
won't be putting that on my salon personals profile...
except for my massage (hope you sold that futon, darling wilcox...) and the long, sunny nap that followed, it was the pits. as great as people can be, i wish sometimes that they came with descriptive labelling much like those that are required for everything from water to cigarettes. this might be called my wishful-thinking version of mcpartland's 'undateable list,' a concept which is amusing in theory, not to mention useful, but tastes vindictive to me when i mull it over for too long. there ought to be some way to avoid pointless pain, just like you'd avoid an unnecessary allergic reaction to peanuts.
so here's my point: how about if you knew in advance that you were dealing with 'tremendously selfish and needy. overly sociable and shallow.' or for me: 'depressive and fragile, very high expectations.' others i could pinpoint would include 'abandonment issues. highly defensive. alcoholic.' 'cannot be alone. trusts no one. pathologically cynical.' 'sexually conflicted, unable to set own agenda.' 'profound center-of-universe misconception, very secretive.'
then you could eat the occasional unhealthy snack, or even form the unsalutory habit with some foreknowledge of what you were getting into, rather than being gobsmacked to discover after some initial getting-to-know-you period that the talk and the walk are two different (pardon the choice of words here, my loves) beasts. for instance, if you knew that i am inclined to be depressive and emotionally fragile and excessively idealistic and entirely too sensual, then you would take with a grain of salt my very dark outlook, my sense of humor, my endless talk of sex, the constant tug of war between wonder and defeat. or, if i knew that so-and-so was a two-timing addictive personality with fidelity issues (note double-emphasis), i would be making an informed choice about trying to feed and water a relationship inspired by his boyish good looks, charming habit of talking to inanimate objects, beautiful red hair, incredible sweetness and agile mind. not anyone in particular here, just an example. (um, not.)
this is so much more practical than the SATs or demented food labels (e.g., water: zero calories. duh.) this is civilization of the future. i'm not suggesting that we should rag on people for being assholes, though by all means, have at... all i'm saying is that we all have faults, and i for one would like to make mine available in trade for being able to avoid feebs, weiners, alcoholics, assholes and scorpios. (note the double-emphasis. heh...)
we're all fallible, i just wish... ugh. i dunno.
DB says:
wow descriptive labels what a great idea!
DB says:
should include the recommended serving size, too
wilcox's phone call and subsequent visit, inspiring an exciting mini-anxiety attack, and then the disaster of my little get-together, which i just didn't really enjoy very much at all. note to self - never throw another party. my (dare i say it? ha!) 'date' ignored me completely, to the extent of actually arriving before i did, playing cards with three women, getting plastered, and sitting with his back to me the whole time in front of ten of my closest friends.
oh, humility, oh.
won't be putting that on my salon personals profile...
except for my massage (hope you sold that futon, darling wilcox...) and the long, sunny nap that followed, it was the pits. as great as people can be, i wish sometimes that they came with descriptive labelling much like those that are required for everything from water to cigarettes. this might be called my wishful-thinking version of mcpartland's 'undateable list,' a concept which is amusing in theory, not to mention useful, but tastes vindictive to me when i mull it over for too long. there ought to be some way to avoid pointless pain, just like you'd avoid an unnecessary allergic reaction to peanuts.
so here's my point: how about if you knew in advance that you were dealing with 'tremendously selfish and needy. overly sociable and shallow.' or for me: 'depressive and fragile, very high expectations.' others i could pinpoint would include 'abandonment issues. highly defensive. alcoholic.' 'cannot be alone. trusts no one. pathologically cynical.' 'sexually conflicted, unable to set own agenda.' 'profound center-of-universe misconception, very secretive.'
then you could eat the occasional unhealthy snack, or even form the unsalutory habit with some foreknowledge of what you were getting into, rather than being gobsmacked to discover after some initial getting-to-know-you period that the talk and the walk are two different (pardon the choice of words here, my loves) beasts. for instance, if you knew that i am inclined to be depressive and emotionally fragile and excessively idealistic and entirely too sensual, then you would take with a grain of salt my very dark outlook, my sense of humor, my endless talk of sex, the constant tug of war between wonder and defeat. or, if i knew that so-and-so was a two-timing addictive personality with fidelity issues (note double-emphasis), i would be making an informed choice about trying to feed and water a relationship inspired by his boyish good looks, charming habit of talking to inanimate objects, beautiful red hair, incredible sweetness and agile mind. not anyone in particular here, just an example. (um, not.)
this is so much more practical than the SATs or demented food labels (e.g., water: zero calories. duh.) this is civilization of the future. i'm not suggesting that we should rag on people for being assholes, though by all means, have at... all i'm saying is that we all have faults, and i for one would like to make mine available in trade for being able to avoid feebs, weiners, alcoholics, assholes and scorpios. (note the double-emphasis. heh...)
we're all fallible, i just wish... ugh. i dunno.
DB says:
wow descriptive labels what a great idea!
DB says:
should include the recommended serving size, too
supercallowfragilekisses says:
hewwo
lithe and wicked says:
hi bunny
supercallowfragilekisses says:
what are you up to?
lithe and wicked says:
eating wunch
lithe and wicked says:
and bwooding
supercallowfragilekisses says:
I tried to do that before
lithe and wicked says:
hahahahaaaaa
supercallowfragilekisses says:
over what are you brooding?
supercallowfragilekisses says:
...so, I figure if I can just stop myself from doing crazy things, I should be fine
lithe and wicked says:
such as?
supercallowfragilekisses says:
obsessions, procrastinations
supercallowfragilekisses says:
I don't know
supercallowfragilekisses says:
it's hard to think of them when they're not happening atm
lithe and wicked says:
obsessions
lithe and wicked says:
fixations
lithe and wicked says:
futures-in-present
lithe and wicked says:
(unlikely ones)
lithe and wicked says:
unrealistic expectations
lithe and wicked says:
dreams of morality
supercallowfragilekisses says:
haha
supercallowfragilekisses says:
wishes for morality
supercallowfragilekisses says:
personally
lithe and wicked says:
aspirations of transcendence-
lithe and wicked says:
wishing for pure, holy relief
lithe and wicked says:
from the everlasting (?!) Trinity of Bullshit
lithe and wicked says:
1. Bullshit work
lithe and wicked says:
2. Bullshit people
lithe and wicked says:
3. This bullshit brain of mine
hewwo
lithe and wicked says:
hi bunny
supercallowfragilekisses says:
what are you up to?
lithe and wicked says:
eating wunch
lithe and wicked says:
and bwooding
supercallowfragilekisses says:
I tried to do that before
lithe and wicked says:
hahahahaaaaa
supercallowfragilekisses says:
over what are you brooding?
supercallowfragilekisses says:
...so, I figure if I can just stop myself from doing crazy things, I should be fine
lithe and wicked says:
such as?
supercallowfragilekisses says:
obsessions, procrastinations
supercallowfragilekisses says:
I don't know
supercallowfragilekisses says:
it's hard to think of them when they're not happening atm
lithe and wicked says:
obsessions
lithe and wicked says:
fixations
lithe and wicked says:
futures-in-present
lithe and wicked says:
(unlikely ones)
lithe and wicked says:
unrealistic expectations
lithe and wicked says:
dreams of morality
supercallowfragilekisses says:
haha
supercallowfragilekisses says:
wishes for morality
supercallowfragilekisses says:
personally
lithe and wicked says:
aspirations of transcendence-
lithe and wicked says:
wishing for pure, holy relief
lithe and wicked says:
from the everlasting (?!) Trinity of Bullshit
lithe and wicked says:
1. Bullshit work
lithe and wicked says:
2. Bullshit people
lithe and wicked says:
3. This bullshit brain of mine
8.21.2004
be quiet
i never remember not to say,
never to show,
i have to be trained again.
in those hours when hands come together
when sleep's breathing matches the
oscillations of the fan,
i have dreams to show me something finer than
the trapping heat beneath the streets and glowing screens.
the reining-in of what the heart demands
in many faces, familiar as my hands.
and in me.
there must be something better
than this scraped feeling.
losing much and gaining nothing,
learning bitter things again.
as medicines may cause me to shake, leafwise,
likewise these lessons bring me no relief-
but only substitute one kind of sickness for another.
so, my dreams.
some sense of flight
ease from the problems of gravity
things which are not, but should be.
i never remember not to say,
never to show,
i have to be trained again.
in those hours when hands come together
when sleep's breathing matches the
oscillations of the fan,
i have dreams to show me something finer than
the trapping heat beneath the streets and glowing screens.
the reining-in of what the heart demands
in many faces, familiar as my hands.
and in me.
there must be something better
than this scraped feeling.
losing much and gaining nothing,
learning bitter things again.
as medicines may cause me to shake, leafwise,
likewise these lessons bring me no relief-
but only substitute one kind of sickness for another.
so, my dreams.
some sense of flight
ease from the problems of gravity
things which are not, but should be.
8.19.2004
8.18.2004
Kare: you rock!
Rabbi: no...YOU rock!!!
Rabbi: how can i rock if you're rocking??
Kare: lol
Rabbi: :-)
Rabbi: we can't rock at the same time!
Kare: i am not familiar with these rules...
Rabbi: we'll have none that
Kare: are there any other guidelines i need to follow?
Rabbi: rockin' is a solitary thing
Kare: can we take turns
Rabbi: yes...
Rabbi: i will rock on the odd hours of the day....you rock on the even
Rabbi: so ...it's almost 2....get
Rabbi: ready
Rabbi: to
Rabbi: ROCK
Kare: so today's your day
Rabbi: no!!
Rabbi: we alternate EVERY HOUR!!
Rabbi: of EVERY DAY!!
Kare: whoa
Rabbi: sheesh!!
Kare: that's a bit complicated
Rabbi: do i need to send you the rockin' manual??
Rabbi: maybe so
Kare: yes i need the rockin' show directory
Rabbi: lol
Rabbi: that'd be great
Kare: it should be a complimentary piece to iaw
Rabbi: yes.
Kare: like the exhibit manual
Rabbi: and we should have breakouts
Rabbi: to learn how to do it better
Kare: only for the cool people
Rabbi: yes
Kare: who want to learn or know how to rock
Rabbi: yes
Rabbi: it's a complex process
Rabbi: so....
Kare: of course
Rabbi: we're one down, one to go on the fandangling
Kare: we make it look easy
Rabbi: fandangling..i mean
Rabbi: yes we do
Kare: but it's really not
Rabbi: rock is 2nd nature
Kare: you either have it or you don't
Rabbi: you can't "teach" rock
Rabbi: right
Kare: see, we're even on the same wavelength
Rabbi: yes we are....
Rabbi: sweet
Rabbi: so....we're 1-for-2 on "Operation Convince Sponsor not to do what they Originally Contracted to Do"
Rabbi: you dreading that call??
Rabbi: or are you READY TO ROCK!!?!!?
Kare: yeah if she ever gets back to me
Rabbi: wow....that's not Rock
Rabbi: that's extremely Un-rock
Kare: yeah, but i'll cut her some slack
Kare: she is soooo nice
Rabbi: ok...
Rabbi: that's up to you...(Code B104c - Rock Manual)
Rabbi: no...YOU rock!!!
Rabbi: how can i rock if you're rocking??
Kare: lol
Rabbi: :-)
Rabbi: we can't rock at the same time!
Kare: i am not familiar with these rules...
Rabbi: we'll have none that
Kare: are there any other guidelines i need to follow?
Rabbi: rockin' is a solitary thing
Kare: can we take turns
Rabbi: yes...
Rabbi: i will rock on the odd hours of the day....you rock on the even
Rabbi: so ...it's almost 2....get
Rabbi: ready
Rabbi: to
Rabbi: ROCK
Kare: so today's your day
Rabbi: no!!
Rabbi: we alternate EVERY HOUR!!
Rabbi: of EVERY DAY!!
Kare: whoa
Rabbi: sheesh!!
Kare: that's a bit complicated
Rabbi: do i need to send you the rockin' manual??
Rabbi: maybe so
Kare: yes i need the rockin' show directory
Rabbi: lol
Rabbi: that'd be great
Kare: it should be a complimentary piece to iaw
Rabbi: yes.
Kare: like the exhibit manual
Rabbi: and we should have breakouts
Rabbi: to learn how to do it better
Kare: only for the cool people
Rabbi: yes
Kare: who want to learn or know how to rock
Rabbi: yes
Rabbi: it's a complex process
Rabbi: so....
Kare: of course
Rabbi: we're one down, one to go on the fandangling
Kare: we make it look easy
Rabbi: fandangling..i mean
Rabbi: yes we do
Kare: but it's really not
Rabbi: rock is 2nd nature
Kare: you either have it or you don't
Rabbi: you can't "teach" rock
Rabbi: right
Kare: see, we're even on the same wavelength
Rabbi: yes we are....
Rabbi: sweet
Rabbi: so....we're 1-for-2 on "Operation Convince Sponsor not to do what they Originally Contracted to Do"
Rabbi: you dreading that call??
Rabbi: or are you READY TO ROCK!!?!!?
Kare: yeah if she ever gets back to me
Rabbi: wow....that's not Rock
Rabbi: that's extremely Un-rock
Kare: yeah, but i'll cut her some slack
Kare: she is soooo nice
Rabbi: ok...
Rabbi: that's up to you...(Code B104c - Rock Manual)
"dreamed that i woke up and got dressed, took the F train and ended up in some lost corner of Brooklyn where the subway lines ended. i was so sleepy in my dream, and trying to get to work, but lugging a heavy briefcase and totally unable to find the right platform in what seemed like a huge, abandoned train station. something very strange was going on - people everywhere in tie-dyed tee-shirts singing Elton John songs (doom!) and I was unable to escape because all of the escalators had rebelled and jumped their tracks. they were standing straight up in the air, waving back and forth in unison like the sandworms at the end of Dune. hm."
also, from televisionwithoutpity.com, the people at America's Next Top Model just never disappoint...
Back at the I'm-All-Thatotel, Shannon continues on that maybe it's not all bad that Mother Superior jumped the gun, adding in a confessional, "I do feel comfortable with Elyse and Adrianne. They're fun. And now at least I can be a more outgoing in a way...I don't have to worry about being quiet all the time." During this confessional -- in fact, right on the word "outgoing" -- we're treated to a shot of Shannon sitting on her bed, rocking a wonk-ass pair of Groucho Marx sunglasses and dancing like it's for sale and the rent can be paid in Dork Bucks. I mean, seriously. Some people must really want to stay virgins.
also, from televisionwithoutpity.com, the people at America's Next Top Model just never disappoint...
Back at the I'm-All-Thatotel, Shannon continues on that maybe it's not all bad that Mother Superior jumped the gun, adding in a confessional, "I do feel comfortable with Elyse and Adrianne. They're fun. And now at least I can be a more outgoing in a way...I don't have to worry about being quiet all the time." During this confessional -- in fact, right on the word "outgoing" -- we're treated to a shot of Shannon sitting on her bed, rocking a wonk-ass pair of Groucho Marx sunglasses and dancing like it's for sale and the rent can be paid in Dork Bucks. I mean, seriously. Some people must really want to stay virgins.
8.17.2004
this is the funniest thing i have seen in so long
http://atomfilms.shockwave.com/contentPlay/shockwave.jsp?id=this_land&preplay=1&ratingBar=off
hooboy.
http://atomfilms.shockwave.com/contentPlay/shockwave.jsp?id=this_land&preplay=1&ratingBar=off
hooboy.
8.14.2004
8.13.2004
i am so unhappy about recent events with NJ governor jim mcgreevy and the annullment of the same-sex unions in san francisco. is it that people are being even crueller, suddenly, now that the issue of non-hetero sexual preferences has emerged from the national subconscious into a recognized debate, and is therefore that much more 'real' to the people most afraid of the ramifications of accepting gay relationships as equally valid? mcgreevy cheated on his wife. we don't know what rules or inner logic defined their marriage, and there is no word of separation or divorce. in fact, she was smiling beside him as he came out as a 'gay American.' even that ghoul of human misery, diane sawyer, who was so awful to judy steinberg dean a few months ago for having the temerity to have a whole life of her own, recognized that.
so mcgreevy's ex-lover is expected to file a sexual harassment suit today... and the man gives up his political career and outs himself on national television? (he should have called President Bill for some pointers!) seriously, though, and i know it's purely hypothetical: what would have been different about that press conference if mcgreevy's lover had been a woman? would he have resigned? it seems as though rather than sexually harassing golan cipel, mcgreevy actually went out of his way and placed himself at considerable poitical risk to promote this fellow to offices for which he was not qualified. If that is harassment, it's harassment of an alarmingly sinister and subtle variety. since we're probably never going to know about went on between these two men, any more that we have any right to understand the mcgreevy marriage, what i don't understand is- why resign? it looks like mcgreevy was being blackmailed- or threatened with blackmail. so why go all president bartlett on the state of NJ, which just signed into law a provision for same-sex civil unions. why not come out wearing his person-face and say 'hi folks. guess what? i'm gay. my wife and i have an understanding, and no one here is breaking the law. unfortunately, a while back i had a relationship with a man who feels that i have not been fair in my treatment of him as a member of my administration. he seems to be leaning towards filing a suit against me, and i felt that in light of this unpleasant circumstance, it was only fair to inform you of what is otherwise a private matter between myself and my wife. thanks.' i realize that this is a bold move, but the man has the office - and has not even yet been accused of a crime or misconduct. why shouldn't he show his hand? NJ has been behind him so far - what was he afraid of? that the citizenry of one of the most liberal states in the country wasn't going to be able to take the news that he was gay and married? if anyone's taking offense at anything here, then the big questions coming up ought to be over his nomination of an unqualified individual to a post as drop-dead critical to the safety of millions as New Jersey's homeland security director. Now there's a cause for resignation.
i'm sure more revelations are on the way on this situation, but i'm depressed that whatever has been going on with jim mcgreevey behind closed doors has led to this: okay, you got me. i'm gay and i resign. maybe that's why the added blow of having all the san francisco marriages revoked yesterday stings particularly. let's face it, civil unions do not confer any particularly fantabulous benefits in practical terms. if that was the real issue at hand, i don't think the people on the other side of the debate would be screaming for blood the way they have been since this whole sideshow began when gavin newsom started issuing marriage licences - a politically risky and legally shaky move, for sure. But deep down, the emotional meat of the issue is still social acceptance of homosexuality. If the state to which you pay your taxes, and in which you live your life, in which you work and shop and drive and love and even raise your family does not recognize your partnership, you are forever outside of some invisible line. This is not to say that all- or even most- homosexuals want to be married, but that our refusal to accept that this is not a federal issue is illuminating a fudamental new truth about America as a country: that life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness are fine by us, as long as we all have the same idea about what those things mean. put another way, if the federal government does not care if i make a right on red in jim mcgreevy's state or not in pataki's, but it does care if my partner and i can be married there and yet not here, we are about to sacrifice something far more important than the creaky old 'institution' of marriage. it seems to me that what we are really giving up on is the fundamental truth that all people are created equal - and different, and that as long as we're not hurting anyone, we should be allowed to get on with our lives as we see fit, living in honest homes in communities of like-minded people whose individual votes and opinions really do matter - because it is us, and not the federal government, who decides what side of the line we are on.
i can't imagine how painful it must be as a newly married couple -three thousand, nine hundred and ninety-five couples- to have that status taken away by supreme court decree, especially when across the country this mcgreevy story is breaking and calling our definition of marriage into question more sharply than ever before. i don't know if newsom knew what fresh hell he was calling down on those poor couples when he started issuing licences - in retrospect it seems cruel to have given them such a gift, knowing it could so easily be taken away. (on the other hand, i suspect that one of the episodes of recent history i will remember all my life is that time when same-sex couples in san francisco were lining up to be married, on streets filled with their fellow citizens, cheering them on. it's probably never a bad time to be in love, but between Feb. 12 and March 11 of 2004, in san francisco and across the country, it must have been extraordinary.)
jim mcgreevy and mike newsom both seem to have the wrong idea about where to take their steps in the brave and terrible and frighteningly fucked-up world we've got going, but i have to say that i admire newsom's passion and rashness much more than i do mcgreevy's cowardy weeble-wobbling and irresponsibility, even if he did just out himself on national TV. if we don't speak up for what we believe in, even if we have to fail a dozen times, or get yelled at by our bosses, or constituents or whatever, or even lose the goddamned election, we are selling ourselves so cheaply we might deserve whatever we get.
-----Original Message-----
From: Morgan
Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 12:57 PM
To: Vanessa Soto
Subject: What are you up to tonight?
Yea...this was all very sad. As for NJ's gov. I feel like there's a lot of this story we'll never know or understand ...and it's sad that it will inevitable be remembered thanks to conservative spin that "He's GAY ...so he can't be gov" The San Francisco debacle is, however, more upsetting to me. I can't even imagine how hurt these couples must be. The right seems to becoming more and more enraged and less and less logical. They seem to have a one-phrase argument for everything and don't bother to actually think about what they are saying. Gays can't marry because it will ruin the sanctity of marriage...(what about adultery and divorce?) I'm starting to realize that what they want is not to preserve and defend their lifestyle, but rather to attack and punish those who've chosen a different lifestyle. They are not Pro-Life they are Anti-Choice (if they were Pro-Life they would all adopt 3 children every year and be VERY opposed to the death penalty.)
I thought Republicans believed in smaller government? Everyone's going crazy though, so I suppose I shouldn't be so confused.
I can meet up for a drink tonight if you'd like, or actually anytime this weekend.
.m
From: Jon Haddorff
Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 11:59 AM
To: Vanessa
Subject: RE: had to get off brain... not terribly cogent
Thanks for the brilliant rant. I appreciate having you on "our" side of the debate and I agree--why resign? But there are also federal investigations into his campaign financing which may mean "I'm gay" is just a smokescreen for the real reason he resigned, which is also kinda depressing. But we live on and can be grateful that things are changing...a few years ago he might not have felt so free to announce his sexuality on national TV and the more that come out publicly, the less stigmatized we become.
xoxo--J
From: Adam
Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 3:33 PM
To: Vanessa
Subject: Re: had to get off brain... not terribly cogent
dearest vanessa,
thought this was an opportune moment to tell you that your beautiful mind is even more attractive to me than your beautiful...
well said, sister.
yours,
adam
From: Vanessa Soto Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 4:04 PMTo: 'Lawrence; Karie; Jon; John; gpesoa; CBotana; Adam; Soul Light; Scott
so mcgreevy's ex-lover is expected to file a sexual harassment suit today... and the man gives up his political career and outs himself on national television? (he should have called President Bill for some pointers!) seriously, though, and i know it's purely hypothetical: what would have been different about that press conference if mcgreevy's lover had been a woman? would he have resigned? it seems as though rather than sexually harassing golan cipel, mcgreevy actually went out of his way and placed himself at considerable poitical risk to promote this fellow to offices for which he was not qualified. If that is harassment, it's harassment of an alarmingly sinister and subtle variety. since we're probably never going to know about went on between these two men, any more that we have any right to understand the mcgreevy marriage, what i don't understand is- why resign? it looks like mcgreevy was being blackmailed- or threatened with blackmail. so why go all president bartlett on the state of NJ, which just signed into law a provision for same-sex civil unions. why not come out wearing his person-face and say 'hi folks. guess what? i'm gay. my wife and i have an understanding, and no one here is breaking the law. unfortunately, a while back i had a relationship with a man who feels that i have not been fair in my treatment of him as a member of my administration. he seems to be leaning towards filing a suit against me, and i felt that in light of this unpleasant circumstance, it was only fair to inform you of what is otherwise a private matter between myself and my wife. thanks.' i realize that this is a bold move, but the man has the office - and has not even yet been accused of a crime or misconduct. why shouldn't he show his hand? NJ has been behind him so far - what was he afraid of? that the citizenry of one of the most liberal states in the country wasn't going to be able to take the news that he was gay and married? if anyone's taking offense at anything here, then the big questions coming up ought to be over his nomination of an unqualified individual to a post as drop-dead critical to the safety of millions as New Jersey's homeland security director. Now there's a cause for resignation.
i'm sure more revelations are on the way on this situation, but i'm depressed that whatever has been going on with jim mcgreevey behind closed doors has led to this: okay, you got me. i'm gay and i resign. maybe that's why the added blow of having all the san francisco marriages revoked yesterday stings particularly. let's face it, civil unions do not confer any particularly fantabulous benefits in practical terms. if that was the real issue at hand, i don't think the people on the other side of the debate would be screaming for blood the way they have been since this whole sideshow began when gavin newsom started issuing marriage licences - a politically risky and legally shaky move, for sure. But deep down, the emotional meat of the issue is still social acceptance of homosexuality. If the state to which you pay your taxes, and in which you live your life, in which you work and shop and drive and love and even raise your family does not recognize your partnership, you are forever outside of some invisible line. This is not to say that all- or even most- homosexuals want to be married, but that our refusal to accept that this is not a federal issue is illuminating a fudamental new truth about America as a country: that life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness are fine by us, as long as we all have the same idea about what those things mean. put another way, if the federal government does not care if i make a right on red in jim mcgreevy's state or not in pataki's, but it does care if my partner and i can be married there and yet not here, we are about to sacrifice something far more important than the creaky old 'institution' of marriage. it seems to me that what we are really giving up on is the fundamental truth that all people are created equal - and different, and that as long as we're not hurting anyone, we should be allowed to get on with our lives as we see fit, living in honest homes in communities of like-minded people whose individual votes and opinions really do matter - because it is us, and not the federal government, who decides what side of the line we are on.
i can't imagine how painful it must be as a newly married couple -three thousand, nine hundred and ninety-five couples- to have that status taken away by supreme court decree, especially when across the country this mcgreevy story is breaking and calling our definition of marriage into question more sharply than ever before. i don't know if newsom knew what fresh hell he was calling down on those poor couples when he started issuing licences - in retrospect it seems cruel to have given them such a gift, knowing it could so easily be taken away. (on the other hand, i suspect that one of the episodes of recent history i will remember all my life is that time when same-sex couples in san francisco were lining up to be married, on streets filled with their fellow citizens, cheering them on. it's probably never a bad time to be in love, but between Feb. 12 and March 11 of 2004, in san francisco and across the country, it must have been extraordinary.)
jim mcgreevy and mike newsom both seem to have the wrong idea about where to take their steps in the brave and terrible and frighteningly fucked-up world we've got going, but i have to say that i admire newsom's passion and rashness much more than i do mcgreevy's cowardy weeble-wobbling and irresponsibility, even if he did just out himself on national TV. if we don't speak up for what we believe in, even if we have to fail a dozen times, or get yelled at by our bosses, or constituents or whatever, or even lose the goddamned election, we are selling ourselves so cheaply we might deserve whatever we get.
-----Original Message-----
From: Morgan
Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 12:57 PM
To: Vanessa Soto
Subject: What are you up to tonight?
Yea...this was all very sad. As for NJ's gov. I feel like there's a lot of this story we'll never know or understand ...and it's sad that it will inevitable be remembered thanks to conservative spin that "He's GAY ...so he can't be gov" The San Francisco debacle is, however, more upsetting to me. I can't even imagine how hurt these couples must be. The right seems to becoming more and more enraged and less and less logical. They seem to have a one-phrase argument for everything and don't bother to actually think about what they are saying. Gays can't marry because it will ruin the sanctity of marriage...(what about adultery and divorce?) I'm starting to realize that what they want is not to preserve and defend their lifestyle, but rather to attack and punish those who've chosen a different lifestyle. They are not Pro-Life they are Anti-Choice (if they were Pro-Life they would all adopt 3 children every year and be VERY opposed to the death penalty.)
I thought Republicans believed in smaller government? Everyone's going crazy though, so I suppose I shouldn't be so confused.
I can meet up for a drink tonight if you'd like, or actually anytime this weekend.
.m
From: Jon Haddorff
Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 11:59 AM
To: Vanessa
Subject: RE: had to get off brain... not terribly cogent
Thanks for the brilliant rant. I appreciate having you on "our" side of the debate and I agree--why resign? But there are also federal investigations into his campaign financing which may mean "I'm gay" is just a smokescreen for the real reason he resigned, which is also kinda depressing. But we live on and can be grateful that things are changing...a few years ago he might not have felt so free to announce his sexuality on national TV and the more that come out publicly, the less stigmatized we become.
xoxo--J
From: Adam
Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 3:33 PM
To: Vanessa
Subject: Re: had to get off brain... not terribly cogent
dearest vanessa,
thought this was an opportune moment to tell you that your beautiful mind is even more attractive to me than your beautiful...
well said, sister.
yours,
adam
From: Lawrence
Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 2:36 PM
To: Vanessa Soto; Karie Gilson; Jon Haddorff; John Hamilton; gpesoa@mindspring.com; CBotana2@aol.com; Adam W. Griffith; Soul Light
Subject: RE: had to get off brain... not terribly cogent
Let's get a few things "straight" here:
McGreevey may have *said* he resigned over his affair with Golan Cipel, but the real reason is going to "come out". For one, EVERYONE in state government knew he had an affair with Cipel (in fact, Vanessa, I think I even told you about it at some point). Everyone in the press knew, which is why there were so many detailed articles about Cipel's career at the ready. When Cipel was named the head of state security, there was an outcry because everyone knew his relationship with the governor and how unqualified he was (Collette Avital, the Israeli Counsel General and Cipel's former boss -- and by no means a pro-Republican conservative -- questioned Cipel's qualifications and how much he padded his resume). Of course, no one would actually say what the situation was really about, but for a good example of how to read between the lines, see this article written two years ago: http://www.cpanj.com/capitalreportpages/mcgreeveywatch/august2002/MCGREEVEY.
The gov's orientation was pretty much established when he ran the first time in '97. No one -- not even the Republicans -- brought it up because, let's face it: if you were to have every gay elected official in the state resign, the Garden State would lose half its leadership.
The real reason had more to do with the series of indictments surrounding the administration. Specifically, when Charlie Kushner was arrested over a month ago (for paying a prostitute to sleep with his sister's husband and video tape it so he wouldn't talk to the Feds about Charlie's donations to McGreevey), the heat was turning up. Then, all of a sudden, two weeks ago, Charlie's ankle bracelet came off. Guess how? How 'bout co-operation so Charlie wouldn't do as much time as he would've.
Then there was the "Machiavelli Affair". David D'Amiano was McGreevey's school friend. D'Amiano was involved in a scheme whereby contributions were taken in exchange for millions in state farm aid (see article here: http://www.politicsnj.com/kornacki070704_indict.htm).
A couple of years ago, Bergen County's former Sheriff, Joe Ciccone, announced that he was being both prosecuted and persecuted because of his sexuality. Fact is, Ciccone was so dreadfully corrupt that no one could no longer turn a blind eye. What McGreevey did yesterday was something out of Ciccone's playbook. Thankfully, the law looks past a person's private situation and looks at their public actions. Ciccone was convicted and so should McGreevey.
McGreevey was a ruthless, power-hungry thief. His sexual orientation had nothing to do with it. I'm quite frankly disappointed that everyone has fallen for his false martydom, especially you, Vanessa, because you're exceptionally bright.
The gay community should be outraged that this criminal dare use his orientation as a sheild for the banditry he committed. When he ran for governor -- or shortly after he took office -- he had ample opportunity to come out. He could have done so much good. Instead, he robbed the state, threatened the environment with the "fast track" of development permits (a payoff to the large developers in exchange for a joke of an environmental policy which robbed Highlands property owners), shook the tax base with ridiculous amounts of spending paid for in increased taxes, and embarrassed the state with some of the most dreadful appointments around. It's only when his actions caught up to him that he through one last Hail Mary pass hoping to save his tarnished reputation. Now he wants to be a martyr. Don't let him get away with it.
&^*# Jim McGreevey and all he stood for. The sooner he and his criminal ilk leave Trenton, the better.
From: Vanessa Soto Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 4:04 PMTo: 'Lawrence; Karie; Jon; John; gpesoa; CBotana; Adam; Soul Light; Scott
Subject: RE: cogenter
hey lawrence,
thanks for taking the time to write this- and for the compliment. i was careful to mention neither 'republicans,' nor 'democrats' nor even to hint at the liberal/conservative debate in my article.
i guess my thesis was something less definitive- some intangible distinction in how we mean our actions, how sometimes legality and immorality are more like each other than we would hope for. more and more, what i see is a strain of malignant capitalism - making over a nation of ornery individuals into an easily led, easily fed, easily manipulated, and unfortunately, an easily slaughtered flock.
this has less to do with any party in particular, than with the sort of cynicism that turns the vital things that motivate real people into loathsome political doubletalk. this is the sort of cynicism that kills, i think.
the only antidote, or treatment, or whatever, is for people to stop thinking this way - stop following the path of practicality and cool pragmatism and instead to assert the human right -forget the Constitution here, for a minute- to say that some things, like love and life and death, are far too important to be used as forensic placeholders for warring interests. i think the only way that's going to happen is if we reach right down to where the issues are hurting us, or making us angry, and try to say why it is we feel that way, rather that accepting that this is the state of the world.
love, as ever,
v
From: Adam
Sent: Friday, August 13, 2004 5:27 PM
To: Vanessa; Lawrence; Karie; Jon; John; gpesoa; CBotana; Soul Light; Scott
dear lawrence,
sorry we haven't had the pleasure. i want to make sure that i'm understanding your argument properly.
you're saying that it's marginally less offensive to the public of new jersey to admit that you're queer than it is to admit to being a criminal? and further that this is an acceptable state of affairs?
respectfully,
adam w. griffith
"Life is short
Really short!
So we must gladden the hearts of those who travel with us.
Oh, be swift to love.
Because in both happiness and in sorrow,
life is precious in itself and;
Perhaps, we need to ask nothing more of it than this:
Be what we can be where we are with what we have.
Experience deeply all that we can experience,
And love desperately all that we can love."
-unknown
(thanks J. Hamilton for sending)
Really short!
So we must gladden the hearts of those who travel with us.
Oh, be swift to love.
Because in both happiness and in sorrow,
life is precious in itself and;
Perhaps, we need to ask nothing more of it than this:
Be what we can be where we are with what we have.
Experience deeply all that we can experience,
And love desperately all that we can love."
-unknown
(thanks J. Hamilton for sending)
8.11.2004
onomatopoem
turning my face up to the showerhead
setting the alarm, again, and getting back into bed
turning one last page
no one makes demands,
(except for my mother)
the remote control might never leave my hand
i can eat a shrimp enchilada every day
no one to hear about these dreams
except for sal and gustavo
my private ceremonies
my excellent jokes
the long deep breaths
and the red candle burning on the mantle
and the light of my laptop
i can slip in and out of the world at will
if the phone rings, will i answer?
if you knock at my window,
will i come and let you in?
and if you say
i'll be there
will
i be there?
you sew me up for moments at a time
your face
you fascinate me for a week
for months you think
i am yours
i wish you were right
8.10.2004
i don't remember what i was watching, though i feel it must have been a documentary- what is that show on National Geographic with the funny little British fellow who puts himself through all kinds of torments? the hottest, coldest, wettest, driest places in the world... at any rate, i think it was he, who was on some tiny island inhabited almost entirely by tiny birds which flocked all day long in the skies over this little bit of rock off in the grim horse lattitudes of some remote sea. one of the few people who lived there was regarded as something of an eccentric even by his fellow islanders. he would wake up every morning and climb a steep hill holding a long pole with a net at the one end and a sack tied at his waist, and he would spend all day swiping teeny uccellini out of the air. when his sack was full, he'd go home and pour their soft little carcasses out onto his table, each little head rolling on a neck he had snapped between two fingers, and then he would pluck their feathers, bird by bird, and grill the creatures on his fire. this was his only sport, his only work, his only food, other than the plants that grew wild on the island. he didn't know how old he was, nor who his parents had been. the only things he knew were the net and the flocks, the necks, the feathers and the fire. sleeping, waking, the sea, sky, rocks, consumption and elimination. wind. bellwether.
what incredible clarity.
8.09.2004
Today's poem II
Ya se ha puesto la noche bastante oscura
Cuando me empiesas a mecer
En las cuevas y bajos las calles
Entre las curvitas dulces y secretas
donde se callen finalmente
las canciones de los pajaritos, y
las alas de mariposas muertas
Allí. donde corren con sangre y jugos electricos
El color del melon maduro,
El color del fondo del mar
Allí se oyen de ahora en cuando
pasos, tronos, y se han sentido a veces
unos tambores discretos
Pero hoy
Se me olvidan todas las casualidades
Que me dejaron aquí
Encima de esta pequeña montaña,
(Bueno, pero no esta tan pequeña, eh?)
Al amanecer
A veces
Se me aparecen
Los colores de esos paises descubiertos
-Como me decia ese amigo mio?
A, sí -
Fenomenales
or, translated to English, -
It’s already very dark
When gently you begin to rock me
In the caves and below the streets
In the sweet hidden curves
Where birds’ songs and the wings of dead butterflies rest
There, where blood and electric juices run
The color of a ripe melon,
The color of the bottom of the ocean
There, where every now and then
the footsteps and thunderbolts have been heard,
I perceive some discreet drumbeat
Today, for a change,
I’ve forgotten the arbitrary circumstances
That left me here atop this little mountain
(not so little)
So then, at dawn
The colors of those countries
I had not seen
Appear to me
-how did my friend use to say it-
ahh,
phenomenal.
Ya se ha puesto la noche bastante oscura
Cuando me empiesas a mecer
En las cuevas y bajos las calles
Entre las curvitas dulces y secretas
donde se callen finalmente
las canciones de los pajaritos, y
las alas de mariposas muertas
Allí. donde corren con sangre y jugos electricos
El color del melon maduro,
El color del fondo del mar
Allí se oyen de ahora en cuando
pasos, tronos, y se han sentido a veces
unos tambores discretos
Pero hoy
Se me olvidan todas las casualidades
Que me dejaron aquí
Encima de esta pequeña montaña,
(Bueno, pero no esta tan pequeña, eh?)
Al amanecer
A veces
Se me aparecen
Los colores de esos paises descubiertos
-Como me decia ese amigo mio?
A, sí -
Fenomenales
or, translated to English, -
It’s already very dark
When gently you begin to rock me
In the caves and below the streets
In the sweet hidden curves
Where birds’ songs and the wings of dead butterflies rest
There, where blood and electric juices run
The color of a ripe melon,
The color of the bottom of the ocean
There, where every now and then
the footsteps and thunderbolts have been heard,
I perceive some discreet drumbeat
Today, for a change,
I’ve forgotten the arbitrary circumstances
That left me here atop this little mountain
(not so little)
So then, at dawn
The colors of those countries
I had not seen
Appear to me
-how did my friend use to say it-
ahh,
phenomenal.
These are our histories
in a light sweat
all parts dusted with salt and sugar
certain faces express themselves in the dark
as reliefs of hypnagogic gold
two dissimilar skins pressing together
awakening familiar human geographies
to new configurations
like homonyms
equal tones, disparate in meaning
these are our histories
what skin has learned
skin shares secretly, with rare, precious strangers
between dreams
singing softly
we to us
at midnight and at dawn
8.06.2004
enigmiac: Rearing in quaffed monk, you stun me by employing eight windows when the priest is but iodine.
VanessaIAB: the dinosaurs, they leapt and quailed and spat and slept and loved where i bought my mcgriddle.
enigmiac: You turn the atmosphere wild with currents of vitriol when you smile at the passing insects.
VanessaIAB: no one's making bricks of mud anymore and yet up up up up up go the towering structures of brown like poos from a colossal rectangular rectum.
enigmiac: Your eyes flash upon my cathode ray flesh in a manner that propels my viscera into an eternal state of turgid flux.
enigmiac: this would be much easier on you if you had what I have
VanessaIAB: i like the manhattan bridge best because it is blue.
VanessaIAB: last night i danced in the cobbled streets of dumbo while miles away my true love lay and tory played scrabble. the quesadillas were delicious.
enigmiac: the turpid climate of my welcome yesterday evening was warning enough that the summer season shall be sluggish, and devoid of any true combustion.
enigmiac: *torpid
VanessaIAB: turpid is better, love
enigmiac: your supercallowfragilekissessexmeoutthedoorstop
VanessaIAB: yoursouporsaladisdelicousnmyappetite'sferocious
enigmiac: haha
enigmiac: but I stole mine from a song
VanessaIAB: not me i'm an original baby
enigmiac: that's so AWESOME, and you don't even know why
VanessaIAB: ?
enigmiac: the song is called "free los angeles" by my new favorite band, "baby"
VanessaIAB: GOOD NAME!
enigmiac: yeah
enigmiac: you'll love them
enigmiac: I'll drag you out to see them one of these days
VanessaIAB: mmm
VanessaIAB: baby
enigmiac: it's such a great word
VanessaIAB: baby just rolllls offa da tongue
enigmiac: aww baby
VanessaIAB: *gasped at the precipice of ecstasy* baby
enigmiac: *laying in post coitial bliss* thank you baby
VanessaIAB: mmm
VanessaIAB: love that so much
VanessaIAB: the thank yous
enigmiac: of course
enigmiac: and I'll play you free los angeles later
VanessaIAB: weeoooh!
enigmiac: I wish I had a little guitar I could fold up and take with me everywhere
enigmiac: oh, here's something you'll surely enjoy
VanessaIAB: whatta concept
enigmiac: http://www.madsci.org/cgi-bin/cgiwrap/~lynn/jardin/SCG/
VanessaIAB: all the bonus but none of the looking like a pretentious jerk
enigmiac: exactly
enigmiac: I want something pocket sized
enigmiac: I wish I had an invisibility cloak too
VanessaIAB: Most certainly, your fingernails stimulate magnetism in the most organic of solvents!
VanessaIAB: ohniiiiice
VanessaIAB: ohgodohgod
VanessaIAB: Cry for the stiffness of the earlobe. The turtles are fallen and the rain stands still. How long must I suffer with your undergarments?
enigmiac: Your moist towelette speaks to me as the disgruntled post man listens attentively while pumping the iron pumpkin.
VanessaIAB: coffee was in nose, now on laptop
enigmiac: mwahahaha
enigmiac: I hope it wasn't hot
VanessaIAB: tepid
VanessaIAB: numm
VanessaIAB: evens smells restorative
VanessaIAB: wish it tasted as good
enigmiac: the tepid coffee from your nose glistens like brown diamonds on the glossy surface of your laptop
VanessaIAB: twin fingers of coffee paused in spacetime
extruded from my nostrils, grappling, glistening pseudopods
peering into the cold, outer light.
later, in a frozen snapshot of eternity they lay shattered across the letters T, G, H, N, Y and W like cabochons of glimmering smog.
VanessaIAB: too many likes in that sentence
enigmiac: full of similies
VanessaIAB: like life
enigmiac: no, life is full of smiles, if you look in the right places
VanessaIAB: from my nostrils
enigmiac: No, not there.
VanessaIAB: Haaaa!
VanessaIAB: from my nostrils, extrusions of coffee paused in spacetime, like grappling, glistening pseudopods, peering into the cold, outer light.
in another frozen snapshot of eternity they lay shattered far below
across the letters T, G, H, N, Y and W -
cabochons of glimmering smog.
enigmiac: better, I like it
VanessaIAB: right on
VanessaIAB: clive barker's The Great And Secret Show, some of the bad guys were a race of monolithic lovecraftian freakazoids called the Iad Ourobouros.
enigmiac: I'm agreeing with you
enigmiac: backing you up
enigmiac: I got your back baby, from here to eternity
VanessaIAB: monolithic lovecraftian freakazoids pretty much sums that shit up
enigmiac: wordy mcword
enigmiac: vowels mcconsonants
VanessaIAB: i got your back too - till atoms lose the will to keep it together
enigmiac: haha
enigmiac: playing scrabble last night
enigmiac: I got to use my favorite word
enigmiac: ion
enigmiac: and then, later, scions
VanessaIAB: niiiice
VanessaIAB: powermove
enigmiac: I love those words
enigmiac: because of you, many many years ago
VanessaIAB: moi?
enigmiac: si, toi
enigmiac: we were sitting in the library at dwight
enigmiac: and you handed me "the sword of shannara" by terry brooks
enigmiac: and said here, read this
VanessaIAB: ohhhh yesss
VanessaIAB: actually maybe Elfstones of Shannara
enigmiac: maybe
VanessaIAB: that was the best one
VanessaIAB: loved Allanon
enigmiac: but one of the later books is called the scions of shannara
enigmiac: there are like 9 or 10 books in that set now
VanessaIAB: yup
VanessaIAB: Demonize your sofa. It will lend forth more peanuts between the cushions.
enigmiac: my login message this morning was "today is a good day to disappoint a good friend in need"
enigmiac: it actually made me mad
VanessaIAB: login message?
VanessaIAB: buh?
enigmiac: when I log into my computer, it prints a funny message to the screen
VanessaIAB: how you get it to do that???
enigmiac: for example:
enigmiac: With a rubber duck, one's never alone.
enigmiac: you have to use linux :-(
VanessaIAB: too true, she said, nodding sagely
enigmiac: or
enigmiac: He hadn't a single redeeming vice. -- Oscar Wilde
enigmiac: It wasn't that she had a rose in her teeth, exactly. It was more like the rose and the teeth were in the same glass.
enigmiac: some are funnier than others
VanessaIAB: niiice
VanessaIAB: classay!
VanessaIAB: can i just say
VanessaIAB: Cry for the stiffness of the earlobe. The turtles are fallen and the rain stands still. How long must I suffer with your undergarments?
enigmiac: forever, said the duck
VanessaIAB: so perfection that it hurts me unduly
VanessaIAB: the dinosaurs, they leapt and quailed and spat and slept and loved where i bought my mcgriddle.
enigmiac: You turn the atmosphere wild with currents of vitriol when you smile at the passing insects.
VanessaIAB: no one's making bricks of mud anymore and yet up up up up up go the towering structures of brown like poos from a colossal rectangular rectum.
enigmiac: Your eyes flash upon my cathode ray flesh in a manner that propels my viscera into an eternal state of turgid flux.
enigmiac: this would be much easier on you if you had what I have
VanessaIAB: i like the manhattan bridge best because it is blue.
VanessaIAB: last night i danced in the cobbled streets of dumbo while miles away my true love lay and tory played scrabble. the quesadillas were delicious.
enigmiac: the turpid climate of my welcome yesterday evening was warning enough that the summer season shall be sluggish, and devoid of any true combustion.
enigmiac: *torpid
VanessaIAB: turpid is better, love
enigmiac: your supercallowfragilekissessexmeoutthedoorstop
VanessaIAB: yoursouporsaladisdelicousnmyappetite'sferocious
enigmiac: haha
enigmiac: but I stole mine from a song
VanessaIAB: not me i'm an original baby
enigmiac: that's so AWESOME, and you don't even know why
VanessaIAB: ?
enigmiac: the song is called "free los angeles" by my new favorite band, "baby"
VanessaIAB: GOOD NAME!
enigmiac: yeah
enigmiac: you'll love them
enigmiac: I'll drag you out to see them one of these days
VanessaIAB: mmm
VanessaIAB: baby
enigmiac: it's such a great word
VanessaIAB: baby just rolllls offa da tongue
enigmiac: aww baby
VanessaIAB: *gasped at the precipice of ecstasy* baby
enigmiac: *laying in post coitial bliss* thank you baby
VanessaIAB: mmm
VanessaIAB: love that so much
VanessaIAB: the thank yous
enigmiac: of course
enigmiac: and I'll play you free los angeles later
VanessaIAB: weeoooh!
enigmiac: I wish I had a little guitar I could fold up and take with me everywhere
enigmiac: oh, here's something you'll surely enjoy
VanessaIAB: whatta concept
enigmiac: http://www.madsci.org/cgi-bin/cgiwrap/~lynn/jardin/SCG/
VanessaIAB: all the bonus but none of the looking like a pretentious jerk
enigmiac: exactly
enigmiac: I want something pocket sized
enigmiac: I wish I had an invisibility cloak too
VanessaIAB: Most certainly, your fingernails stimulate magnetism in the most organic of solvents!
VanessaIAB: ohniiiiice
VanessaIAB: ohgodohgod
VanessaIAB: Cry for the stiffness of the earlobe. The turtles are fallen and the rain stands still. How long must I suffer with your undergarments?
enigmiac: Your moist towelette speaks to me as the disgruntled post man listens attentively while pumping the iron pumpkin.
VanessaIAB: coffee was in nose, now on laptop
enigmiac: mwahahaha
enigmiac: I hope it wasn't hot
VanessaIAB: tepid
VanessaIAB: numm
VanessaIAB: evens smells restorative
VanessaIAB: wish it tasted as good
enigmiac: the tepid coffee from your nose glistens like brown diamonds on the glossy surface of your laptop
VanessaIAB: twin fingers of coffee paused in spacetime
extruded from my nostrils, grappling, glistening pseudopods
peering into the cold, outer light.
later, in a frozen snapshot of eternity they lay shattered across the letters T, G, H, N, Y and W like cabochons of glimmering smog.
VanessaIAB: too many likes in that sentence
enigmiac: full of similies
VanessaIAB: like life
enigmiac: no, life is full of smiles, if you look in the right places
VanessaIAB: from my nostrils
enigmiac: No, not there.
VanessaIAB: Haaaa!
VanessaIAB: from my nostrils, extrusions of coffee paused in spacetime, like grappling, glistening pseudopods, peering into the cold, outer light.
in another frozen snapshot of eternity they lay shattered far below
across the letters T, G, H, N, Y and W -
cabochons of glimmering smog.
enigmiac: better, I like it
VanessaIAB: right on
VanessaIAB: clive barker's The Great And Secret Show, some of the bad guys were a race of monolithic lovecraftian freakazoids called the Iad Ourobouros.
enigmiac: I'm agreeing with you
enigmiac: backing you up
enigmiac: I got your back baby, from here to eternity
VanessaIAB: monolithic lovecraftian freakazoids pretty much sums that shit up
enigmiac: wordy mcword
enigmiac: vowels mcconsonants
VanessaIAB: i got your back too - till atoms lose the will to keep it together
enigmiac: haha
enigmiac: playing scrabble last night
enigmiac: I got to use my favorite word
enigmiac: ion
enigmiac: and then, later, scions
VanessaIAB: niiiice
VanessaIAB: powermove
enigmiac: I love those words
enigmiac: because of you, many many years ago
VanessaIAB: moi?
enigmiac: si, toi
enigmiac: we were sitting in the library at dwight
enigmiac: and you handed me "the sword of shannara" by terry brooks
enigmiac: and said here, read this
VanessaIAB: ohhhh yesss
VanessaIAB: actually maybe Elfstones of Shannara
enigmiac: maybe
VanessaIAB: that was the best one
VanessaIAB: loved Allanon
enigmiac: but one of the later books is called the scions of shannara
enigmiac: there are like 9 or 10 books in that set now
VanessaIAB: yup
VanessaIAB: Demonize your sofa. It will lend forth more peanuts between the cushions.
enigmiac: my login message this morning was "today is a good day to disappoint a good friend in need"
enigmiac: it actually made me mad
VanessaIAB: login message?
VanessaIAB: buh?
enigmiac: when I log into my computer, it prints a funny message to the screen
VanessaIAB: how you get it to do that???
enigmiac: for example:
enigmiac: With a rubber duck, one's never alone.
enigmiac: you have to use linux :-(
VanessaIAB: too true, she said, nodding sagely
enigmiac: or
enigmiac: He hadn't a single redeeming vice. -- Oscar Wilde
enigmiac: It wasn't that she had a rose in her teeth, exactly. It was more like the rose and the teeth were in the same glass.
enigmiac: some are funnier than others
VanessaIAB: niiice
VanessaIAB: classay!
VanessaIAB: can i just say
VanessaIAB: Cry for the stiffness of the earlobe. The turtles are fallen and the rain stands still. How long must I suffer with your undergarments?
enigmiac: forever, said the duck
VanessaIAB: so perfection that it hurts me unduly
8.01.2004
time is a circle
circles to be traced
take my fingers back ten, fifteen years
i am shrinking back to when i was growing up
these are the physical sensations:
the musics and the people and their faces
the middle of the night
the roof, the sounds of the crickets and
the train rattling in the meadowlands
which i have never outgrown,
the truth of darkness, punctuated by infrequent lights
the same fears
going back these ten or fifteen years
can i put my head down on the ground?
can i cry out?
some days i am running through the lightest air
the water receives me
there is peace in footsteps and phone calls
some days i really wonder about you people,
i wonder what i am really doing here
at all
circles to be traced
take my fingers back ten, fifteen years
i am shrinking back to when i was growing up
these are the physical sensations:
the musics and the people and their faces
the middle of the night
the roof, the sounds of the crickets and
the train rattling in the meadowlands
the whispering of my cigarette against terra cotta painted green
the smell of the ashes from my drawer
the appaling reality of seven a.m.,
which i have never outgrown,
the truth of darkness, punctuated by infrequent lights
the same fears
going back these ten or fifteen years
can i put my head down on the ground?
can i cry out?
some days i am running through the lightest air
the water receives me
there is peace in footsteps and phone calls
some days i really wonder about you people,
i wonder what i am really doing here
at all
7.27.2004
my poem today,
cantando constantemente
como las velas
de las abuelas
sin consuelo
me aparecen luces en el silencio
en la noche, solita en la cama
quemada por las llamas, las llamadas
volando y separando
callan las aguas del cielo
pero sigo muriéndome de sed
coño, ¿y cómo me metí yo en ésto?
roughly translated:
i sing constantly,
as my grandmothers' candles burn,
inconsolably.
lights appear in the silence
at night, alone in my bed
i'm burned by my flames, by telephone calls
which float, and diverge.
water falls from the sky,
yet i am always dying of some thirst.
shit. how did i get myself into this mess?
cantando constantemente
como las velas
de las abuelas
sin consuelo
me aparecen luces en el silencio
en la noche, solita en la cama
quemada por las llamas, las llamadas
volando y separando
callan las aguas del cielo
pero sigo muriéndome de sed
coño, ¿y cómo me metí yo en ésto?
roughly translated:
i sing constantly,
as my grandmothers' candles burn,
inconsolably.
lights appear in the silence
at night, alone in my bed
i'm burned by my flames, by telephone calls
which float, and diverge.
water falls from the sky,
yet i am always dying of some thirst.
shit. how did i get myself into this mess?
7.26.2004
VanessaIAB (11:41:28 AM): my friend Doron is singing a little song
VanessaIAB (11:41:32 AM): he made up
VanessaIAB (11:41:41 AM): called "Fuck the World"
enigmiac (11:41:47 AM): I need to hear it
VanessaIAB (11:42:21 AM): fuck the world/make it a better place/for you me and everybody else/there are birds dying/and we don't really care
enigmiac (11:42:30 AM): haha
VanessaIAB (11:42:54 AM): fuck the world/make it a better place/we hate boys/and we hate girls who don't know what they're doing
enigmiac (11:43:00 AM): lol
VanessaIAB (11:43:01 AM): tralalallaaaalaa
VanessaIAB (11:43:28 AM): kill the birds/yesyesyesyeeeeessss/kill it kill it KILL IT, BABY!
VanessaIAB (11:45:17 AM): make it a better place for you and me and everyone who would like to die today
VanessaIAB (11:47:47 AM): i changed my sexiest on-screen love scene in salon personals to "The diner scene in Howard the Duck"
enigmiac (11:48:14 AM): LOL
enigmiac (11:48:24 AM): that, my dear, is why you are the perfect woman
VanessaIAB (11:49:08 AM): haaaaaaaaaa
enigmiac (11:49:32 AM): for me, anyway
VanessaIAB (11:49:41 AM): when that guys turns into an evil alien and the world is about to end, only it doesent, because it gets saved by a GIANT TALKING DUCK
VanessaIAB (11:49:44 AM): WITH ARMS
enigmiac (11:49:51 AM): and fingers
enigmiac (11:49:54 AM): don't forget the fingers
Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all convictions, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
7.19.2004
there are two voices on the other end of the line
this time last week, one of them was mine -
keeping up the necessary empathy,
or maybe the appearance thereof,
was much, much easier
on the other end of two thousand miles.
i do know that trying to be good is really not the same as the real thing at all.
he always took the phone to the bedroom, though,
and i was reverent, patient, and silent
each time you called.
i guess that would explain
why your beautiful voices
and the disconnected distances that spring up overnight
electrified fences, frayed selvedges, stark palisades and hedges
have left nothing connecting us
except three voices in thin air, pitched too high.
i felt my stomach rumble down deep
and my lungs fill to push against my heart
i'm so sorry to be small, but i don't think i promised -
what did i know -
that i would never let these things happen
gpesoa says:
aviravirmayeddhidharmasivayanassanimamundi!
I'm not not licking toads... says:
osolemiosolemnissimoarrividerlaaldilaicinominepatriisefilliisespiritosantisenmundoseculumsecularumamen
gpesoa says:
ostabatmaterdolorosaymelosachocolatosaperadonaisabaothmetrathononaglajesuchristiredemptorhominietricottaconnuecesamén!
I'm not not licking toads... says:
achtungmonsoontyphoonbassoonsturmunddranggrandreinedrag
gpesoa says:
einekleinenachtvanessaplusapplestrudelversussadnessworeinmalvonquestognocchiwogeborenichunddu
I'm not not licking toads... says:
fragglejabbabaccawookieETkookyskookchinookwendigoetorc
gpesoa says:
flotsamjetsamalakazamkhakikiroakahasiaguadebebertweedlededeedidomdarú
I'm not not licking toads... says:
shintooboebashokobehomomomomuumuututubooboocoocookachooperiodebleupetitechouchoumojodojorobomototelefoto
aviravirmayeddhidharmasivayanassanimamundi!
I'm not not licking toads... says:
osolemiosolemnissimoarrividerlaaldilaicinominepatriisefilliisespiritosantisenmundoseculumsecularumamen
gpesoa says:
ostabatmaterdolorosaymelosachocolatosaperadonaisabaothmetrathononaglajesuchristiredemptorhominietricottaconnuecesamén!
I'm not not licking toads... says:
achtungmonsoontyphoonbassoonsturmunddranggrandreinedrag
gpesoa says:
einekleinenachtvanessaplusapplestrudelversussadnessworeinmalvonquestognocchiwogeborenichunddu
I'm not not licking toads... says:
fragglejabbabaccawookieETkookyskookchinookwendigoetorc
gpesoa says:
flotsamjetsamalakazamkhakikiroakahasiaguadebebertweedlededeedidomdarú
I'm not not licking toads... says:
shintooboebashokobehomomomomuumuututubooboocoocookachooperiodebleupetitechouchoumojodojorobomototelefoto
7.12.2004
You're not friends. You'll never be friends. You'll be in love till it kills you both. You'll fight, and you'll shag, and you'll hate each other till it makes you quiver, but you'll never be friends. Love isn't brains, children, it's blood...blood screaming inside you to work its will. I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it.
-Spike
-Spike
7.06.2004
We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate
So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?
We might live like never before
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more
We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate
So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?
-Damien Rice, 'Delicate'
When nobody's watching
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate
So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?
We might live like never before
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more
We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate
So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've know
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?
-Damien Rice, 'Delicate'
7.01.2004
Yaki Torysan: hello
VanessaIAB: baby
Yaki Torysan: you busy?
VanessaIAB: always but never
VanessaIAB: when it comes to the chosen few
Yaki Torysan: what I mean is, can you/do you want to talk
VanessaIAB: unless i'm getting
VanessaIAB: yelled at
VanessaIAB: sure call me
VanessaIAB: 212
Yaki Torysan: and... and... and... am I one of the few?
VanessaIAB: 609
Yaki Torysan: I can't phone right now
VanessaIAB: 3729
Yaki Torysan: but I'll write it down
VanessaIAB: ok
VanessaIAB: my feet are smelly today
VanessaIAB: hmm
VanessaIAB: they're not usually smelly feet
Yaki Torysan: nice
Yaki Torysan: is that your cell #?
VanessaIAB: they smell like guacamole
VanessaIAB: no
VanessaIAB: office
VanessaIAB: here till six
VanessaIAB: i hope
Yaki Torysan: you hope?
VanessaIAB: unless i go real slow
VanessaIAB: :-(
Yaki Torysan: ahh
Yaki Torysan: I'm going really fast today
Yaki Torysan: I don't know why
VanessaIAB: where r u anyhow
Yaki Torysan: suffern
VanessaIAB: i'm sorry to hear that
VanessaIAB: but where are u?
VanessaIAB: hahahaha
Yaki Torysan: hahah
VanessaIAB: baby
Yaki Torysan: you busy?
VanessaIAB: always but never
VanessaIAB: when it comes to the chosen few
Yaki Torysan: what I mean is, can you/do you want to talk
VanessaIAB: unless i'm getting
VanessaIAB: yelled at
VanessaIAB: sure call me
VanessaIAB: 212
Yaki Torysan: and... and... and... am I one of the few?
VanessaIAB: 609
Yaki Torysan: I can't phone right now
VanessaIAB: 3729
Yaki Torysan: but I'll write it down
VanessaIAB: ok
VanessaIAB: my feet are smelly today
VanessaIAB: hmm
VanessaIAB: they're not usually smelly feet
Yaki Torysan: nice
Yaki Torysan: is that your cell #?
VanessaIAB: they smell like guacamole
VanessaIAB: no
VanessaIAB: office
VanessaIAB: here till six
VanessaIAB: i hope
Yaki Torysan: you hope?
VanessaIAB: unless i go real slow
VanessaIAB: :-(
Yaki Torysan: ahh
Yaki Torysan: I'm going really fast today
Yaki Torysan: I don't know why
VanessaIAB: where r u anyhow
Yaki Torysan: suffern
VanessaIAB: i'm sorry to hear that
VanessaIAB: but where are u?
VanessaIAB: hahahaha
Yaki Torysan: hahah
6.04.2004
I miss you, lovers
Come back, all of you
And let me take my pleasures like I used to do
Forget the end and spiral back to the beginning
Where memories waited fresh like flowers in plastic at the grocery store
All spangled with cold water and neon light
Come back, my lovers and tell me again for the first time
I miss your finer moments-
I miss mine
It was a long while ago
And like a novel,
I will re-read you, and if it's been long enough,
Perhaps we can forget the ending?
Please, come back lovers
Let's tell stories
Let's surprise each other
I remember your black eyelashes and green eyes
And your freckled shoulders
And your laugh
I remember
Before you belonged to someone else
Before, I was someone else
Roll back the river
Erase my lies,
these lines beneath my eyes
Oh my lovely loves
We should have done better the first time
We should have done it all better the first time
Come back, all of you
And let me take my pleasures like I used to do
Forget the end and spiral back to the beginning
Where memories waited fresh like flowers in plastic at the grocery store
All spangled with cold water and neon light
Come back, my lovers and tell me again for the first time
I miss your finer moments-
I miss mine
It was a long while ago
And like a novel,
I will re-read you, and if it's been long enough,
Perhaps we can forget the ending?
Please, come back lovers
Let's tell stories
Let's surprise each other
I remember your black eyelashes and green eyes
And your freckled shoulders
And your laugh
I remember
Before you belonged to someone else
Before, I was someone else
Roll back the river
Erase my lies,
these lines beneath my eyes
Oh my lovely loves
We should have done better the first time
We should have done it all better the first time
6.03.2004
My best emails:
On 10/29/03 4:09 PM, "Soto, Vanessa B" wrote:
hello
my headache is a mile-high storm cloud of shrimpy pink and mango orange sprouting sizzling lime lightning and looming over a landscape of sad, bilious greenish-gray avocado. in fifty-eight minutes I can go home, and I'll call you so we can chat for a while, if you like. meantime, edit credit memo written by venezuelan Tanya. intense.
i'll go talk to the moaners, who have been creating an eBay ad for me. they tell me i'm going to make them rich. they also say 'snake!'
NWOT and available at a superlow reserve,
Vanessa
On 10/30/03 3:08 PM, "Soto, Vanessa B" wrote:
i try to get the self-loathing out of the way while i am awake. spreading the lord's word? well, i'm smiling. what would a good Lord's word be?
they won't let me take Monday afternoon off. in fact, someone asked me this morning whether there are conference rooms on the 15th floor, and i said " How would I know? I have to tell someone when I'm going to the ladies' room." that might've been a bit gruff.
but the assistants, the analysts, the admins, the lowly ones who rise at dawn to change the copy paper and refill the toner cartridges!
when will my people be free?
On 10/29/03 4:09 PM, "Soto, Vanessa B"
hello
my headache is a mile-high storm cloud of shrimpy pink and mango orange sprouting sizzling lime lightning and looming over a landscape of sad, bilious greenish-gray avocado. in fifty-eight minutes I can go home, and I'll call you so we can chat for a while, if you like. meantime, edit credit memo written by venezuelan Tanya. intense.
i'll go talk to the moaners, who have been creating an eBay ad for me. they tell me i'm going to make them rich. they also say 'snake!'
NWOT and available at a superlow reserve,
Vanessa
On 10/30/03 3:08 PM, "Soto, Vanessa B"
i try to get the self-loathing out of the way while i am awake. spreading the lord's word? well, i'm smiling. what would a good Lord's word be?
they won't let me take Monday afternoon off. in fact, someone asked me this morning whether there are conference rooms on the 15th floor, and i said " How would I know? I have to tell someone when I'm going to the ladies' room." that might've been a bit gruff.
but the assistants, the analysts, the admins, the lowly ones who rise at dawn to change the copy paper and refill the toner cartridges!
when will my people be free?
6.02.2004
-----Original Message-----
From: Vanessa
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:52 AM
To: Dean; Rick
Subject: RE: fyi
not even punctuation could save that one-
-----Original Message-----
From: Dean
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:46 AM
To: Vanessa; Rick
Subject: RE: fyi
is the fish speak
-----Original Message-----
From: Vanessa
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:45 AM
To: Rick; Dean
Subject: RE: fyi
Excellent. Perhaps then you will be able to keep Mandelbrot and Reimann straight.
Blub, blub, blub,
v
-----Original Message-----
From: Rick
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:38 AM
To: Vanessa; Dean
Subject: RE: fyi
So far I only have 37 megaGf of piscomputing power - I'm hoping I'll get that promotion so that I can move up to the 50 MGf class of parallel goldfish processing power...
-----Original Message-----
From: Vanessa
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:34 AM
To: Rick; Dean
Subject: RE: fyi
Why 21 and not 20? Are your goldfish so poor they need an extra round, Evans?
-----Original Message-----
From: Rick
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:32 AM
To: Dean; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
Can we at least play 21 questions? That would give the goldfish a chance to kick in...
-----Original Message-----
From: Dean
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:31 AM
To: Rick; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
3rd
-----Original Message-----
From: Rick
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:30 AM
To: Dean; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
[deafening silence]
Point of information - which of the following is an accurate interpretation your punctuationless phrase below:
What? Do you think I am stupid?
What do you think? I am stupid.
What do you think I am, Stupid!
Fractal grammar.
-----Original Message-----
From: Dean
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:25 AM
To: Rick; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
what do you think i am stupid
-----Original Message-----
From: Rick
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:24 AM
To: Dean; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
yes - but the boundary of the Mandelbrot set has complexity of infinite resolution - fractal...
-----Original Message-----
From: Dean
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:22 AM
To: Rick; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
thx...but i have already determined that it does not go to infinity but stops where the modulus of Z is greater than 2?
-----Original Message-----
From: Rick
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:21 AM
To: Dean; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
courtesy of the university of Utah...
http://www.math.utah.edu/~alfeld/math/mandelbrot/mandelbrot.html#applet
-----Original Message-----
From: Dean
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 8:11 AM
To: Rick; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
Does one of the sequences in mandlebrot set go to infinity...and if not, how far does it go?
From: Vanessa
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:52 AM
To: Dean; Rick
Subject: RE: fyi
not even punctuation could save that one-
-----Original Message-----
From: Dean
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:46 AM
To: Vanessa; Rick
Subject: RE: fyi
is the fish speak
-----Original Message-----
From: Vanessa
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:45 AM
To: Rick; Dean
Subject: RE: fyi
Excellent. Perhaps then you will be able to keep Mandelbrot and Reimann straight.
Blub, blub, blub,
v
-----Original Message-----
From: Rick
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:38 AM
To: Vanessa; Dean
Subject: RE: fyi
So far I only have 37 megaGf of piscomputing power - I'm hoping I'll get that promotion so that I can move up to the 50 MGf class of parallel goldfish processing power...
-----Original Message-----
From: Vanessa
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:34 AM
To: Rick; Dean
Subject: RE: fyi
Why 21 and not 20? Are your goldfish so poor they need an extra round, Evans?
-----Original Message-----
From: Rick
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:32 AM
To: Dean; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
Can we at least play 21 questions? That would give the goldfish a chance to kick in...
-----Original Message-----
From: Dean
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:31 AM
To: Rick; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
3rd
-----Original Message-----
From: Rick
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:30 AM
To: Dean; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
[deafening silence]
Point of information - which of the following is an accurate interpretation your punctuationless phrase below:
What? Do you think I am stupid?
What do you think? I am stupid.
What do you think I am, Stupid!
Fractal grammar.
-----Original Message-----
From: Dean
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:25 AM
To: Rick; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
what do you think i am stupid
-----Original Message-----
From: Rick
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:24 AM
To: Dean; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
yes - but the boundary of the Mandelbrot set has complexity of infinite resolution - fractal...
-----Original Message-----
From: Dean
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:22 AM
To: Rick; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
thx...but i have already determined that it does not go to infinity but stops where the modulus of Z is greater than 2?
-----Original Message-----
From: Rick
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 9:21 AM
To: Dean; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
courtesy of the university of Utah...
http://www.math.utah.edu/~alfeld/math/mandelbrot/mandelbrot.html#applet
-----Original Message-----
From: Dean
Sent: Wednesday, June 02, 2004 8:11 AM
To: Rick; Vanessa
Subject: RE: fyi
Does one of the sequences in mandlebrot set go to infinity...and if not, how far does it go?
5.27.2004
Songs for Ten a.m.
if the buzzing in my head is any sign
or the sensation that swells my ribs
and pushes out my eyes
from behind
from behind
i'd say i spent the night with you,
hanging accidental pearls in my hair
telling stories
and spooning melting chocolate ice cream past my lips
your pretty head intent between my thighs
and pretty hands are resting on my hips
'That's quite the collection you've got there,' I said,
as the black cloth momentarily covered my eyes.
I might have said more:
'sometimes these things remind me of another kind of darkness.'
But I felt so light and sweet, that I was able to cough out a laugh, instead.
There is something frankly winning in your voice, which always sounds so glad.
(Even thought it's clear we are both mad.)
For an hour or more I ran my hands over your skin,
talking about this and that,
There was something like a dream about it-
at last, I wound my arms around and pulled you in.
if the buzzing in my head is any sign
or the sensation that swells my ribs
and pushes out my eyes
from behind
from behind
i'd say i spent the night with you,
hanging accidental pearls in my hair
telling stories
and spooning melting chocolate ice cream past my lips
your pretty head intent between my thighs
and pretty hands are resting on my hips
'That's quite the collection you've got there,' I said,
as the black cloth momentarily covered my eyes.
I might have said more:
'sometimes these things remind me of another kind of darkness.'
But I felt so light and sweet, that I was able to cough out a laugh, instead.
There is something frankly winning in your voice, which always sounds so glad.
(Even thought it's clear we are both mad.)
For an hour or more I ran my hands over your skin,
talking about this and that,
There was something like a dream about it-
at last, I wound my arms around and pulled you in.
5.17.2004
OP-ED
Just Trust Us
By PAUL KRUGMAN
Published: May 11, 2004
TIMES NEWS TRACKER
Didn't you know, in your gut, that something like Abu Ghraib would eventually come to light?
When the world first learned about the abuse of prisoners, President Bush said that it "does not reflect the nature of the American people." He's right, of course: a great majority of Americans are decent and good. But so are a great majority of people everywhere. If America's record is better than that of most countries — and it is — it's because of our system: our tradition of openness, and checks and balances.
Yet Mr. Bush, despite all his talk of good and evil, doesn't believe in that system. From the day his administration took office, its slogan has been "just trust us." No administration since Nixon has been so insistent that it has the right to operate without oversight or accountability, and no administration since Nixon has shown itself to be so little deserving of that trust. Out of a misplaced sense of patriotism, Congress has deferred to the administration's demands. Sooner or later, a moral catastrophe was inevitable.
Just trust us, John Ashcroft said, as he demanded that Congress pass the Patriot Act, no questions asked. After two and a half years, during which he arrested and secretly detained more than a thousand people, Mr. Ashcroft has yet to convict any actual terrorists. (Look at the actual trials of what Dahlia Lithwick of Slate calls "disaffected bozos who watch cheesy training videos," and you'll see what I mean.)
Just trust us, George Bush said, as he insisted that Iraq, which hadn't attacked us and posed no obvious threat, was the place to go in the war on terror. When we got there, we found no weapons of mass destruction and no new evidence of links to Al Qaeda.
Just trust us, Paul Bremer said, as he took over in Iraq. What is the legal basis for Mr. Bremer's authority? You may imagine that the Coalition Provisional Authority is an arm of the government, subject to U.S. law. But it turns out that no law or presidential directive has ever established the authority's status. Mr. Bremer, as far as we can tell, answers to nobody except Mr. Bush, which makes Iraq a sort of personal fief. In that fief, there has been nothing that Americans would recognize as the rule of law. For example, Ahmad Chalabi, the Pentagon's erstwhile favorite, was allowed to gain control of Saddam's files — the better to blackmail his potential rivals.
And finally: Just trust us, Donald Rumsfeld said early in 2002, when he declared that "enemy combatants" — a term that turned out to mean anyone, including American citizens, the administration chose to so designate — don't have rights under the Geneva Convention. Now people around the world talk of an "American gulag," and Seymour Hersh is exposing My Lai all over again.
Did top officials order the use of torture? It depends on the meaning of the words "order" and "torture." Last August Mr. Rumsfeld's top intelligence official sent Maj. Gen. Geoffrey Miller, the commander of the Guantánamo prison, to Iraq. General Miller recommended that the guards help interrogators, including private contractors, by handling prisoners in a way that "sets the conditions" for "successful interrogation and exploitation." What did he and his superiors think would happen?
To their credit, some supporters of the administration are speaking out. "This is about system failure," said Senator Lindsey Graham, a Republican from South Carolina. But do Mr. Graham, John McCain and other appalled lawmakers understand their own role in that failure? By deferring to the administration at every step, by blocking every effort to make officials accountable, they set the nation up for this disaster. You can't prevent any serious inquiry into why George Bush led us to war to eliminate W.M.D. that didn't exist and to punish Saddam for imaginary ties to Al Qaeda, then express shock when Mr. Bush's administration fails to follow the rules on other matters.
Meanwhile, Abu Ghraib will remain in use, under its new commander: General Miller of Guantánamo. Donald Rumsfeld has "accepted responsibility" — an action that apparently does not mean paying any price at all. And Dick Cheney says, "Don Rumsfeld is the best secretary of defense the United States has ever had. . . . People should get off his case and let him do his job." In other words: Just trust us.
Just Trust Us
By PAUL KRUGMAN
Published: May 11, 2004
TIMES NEWS TRACKER
Didn't you know, in your gut, that something like Abu Ghraib would eventually come to light?
When the world first learned about the abuse of prisoners, President Bush said that it "does not reflect the nature of the American people." He's right, of course: a great majority of Americans are decent and good. But so are a great majority of people everywhere. If America's record is better than that of most countries — and it is — it's because of our system: our tradition of openness, and checks and balances.
Yet Mr. Bush, despite all his talk of good and evil, doesn't believe in that system. From the day his administration took office, its slogan has been "just trust us." No administration since Nixon has been so insistent that it has the right to operate without oversight or accountability, and no administration since Nixon has shown itself to be so little deserving of that trust. Out of a misplaced sense of patriotism, Congress has deferred to the administration's demands. Sooner or later, a moral catastrophe was inevitable.
Just trust us, John Ashcroft said, as he demanded that Congress pass the Patriot Act, no questions asked. After two and a half years, during which he arrested and secretly detained more than a thousand people, Mr. Ashcroft has yet to convict any actual terrorists. (Look at the actual trials of what Dahlia Lithwick of Slate calls "disaffected bozos who watch cheesy training videos," and you'll see what I mean.)
Just trust us, George Bush said, as he insisted that Iraq, which hadn't attacked us and posed no obvious threat, was the place to go in the war on terror. When we got there, we found no weapons of mass destruction and no new evidence of links to Al Qaeda.
Just trust us, Paul Bremer said, as he took over in Iraq. What is the legal basis for Mr. Bremer's authority? You may imagine that the Coalition Provisional Authority is an arm of the government, subject to U.S. law. But it turns out that no law or presidential directive has ever established the authority's status. Mr. Bremer, as far as we can tell, answers to nobody except Mr. Bush, which makes Iraq a sort of personal fief. In that fief, there has been nothing that Americans would recognize as the rule of law. For example, Ahmad Chalabi, the Pentagon's erstwhile favorite, was allowed to gain control of Saddam's files — the better to blackmail his potential rivals.
And finally: Just trust us, Donald Rumsfeld said early in 2002, when he declared that "enemy combatants" — a term that turned out to mean anyone, including American citizens, the administration chose to so designate — don't have rights under the Geneva Convention. Now people around the world talk of an "American gulag," and Seymour Hersh is exposing My Lai all over again.
Did top officials order the use of torture? It depends on the meaning of the words "order" and "torture." Last August Mr. Rumsfeld's top intelligence official sent Maj. Gen. Geoffrey Miller, the commander of the Guantánamo prison, to Iraq. General Miller recommended that the guards help interrogators, including private contractors, by handling prisoners in a way that "sets the conditions" for "successful interrogation and exploitation." What did he and his superiors think would happen?
To their credit, some supporters of the administration are speaking out. "This is about system failure," said Senator Lindsey Graham, a Republican from South Carolina. But do Mr. Graham, John McCain and other appalled lawmakers understand their own role in that failure? By deferring to the administration at every step, by blocking every effort to make officials accountable, they set the nation up for this disaster. You can't prevent any serious inquiry into why George Bush led us to war to eliminate W.M.D. that didn't exist and to punish Saddam for imaginary ties to Al Qaeda, then express shock when Mr. Bush's administration fails to follow the rules on other matters.
Meanwhile, Abu Ghraib will remain in use, under its new commander: General Miller of Guantánamo. Donald Rumsfeld has "accepted responsibility" — an action that apparently does not mean paying any price at all. And Dick Cheney says, "Don Rumsfeld is the best secretary of defense the United States has ever had. . . . People should get off his case and let him do his job." In other words: Just trust us.
4.13.2004
3.26.2004
3.23.2004
Friendster
To: eevin
From: vanessa
Re: a staggering work of writing a nonboring profile
Eevinevil!
How are you?
All things, large and small, are as they should be. I'm looking for work, currently interviewing at Univision. Have been working at ugh Citigroup as assistant to Managing Director. Nice people, but not really my thing. I live in Park Slope with my plant (nameless) and maybe some spiders. It's cool. People visit.
But what about you? What have you been up to? Last time we spoke I think you were working at the Museum of Teeve. Still there?
Glad to be rebefriended,
Vanessa
Eevin wrote:
> Beatrice!
> We are befriended.
>
> How's every little thing with you?
> What news?
>
> Ee
>
> Vanessa wrote:
> > hello lovely eevin,
> > this is vanessa, now rejoining the world of the
> > computerable. want to befriend me?
> > have a wonderful day!
> > v
To: eevin
From: vanessa
Re: a staggering work of writing a nonboring profile
Eevinevil!
How are you?
All things, large and small, are as they should be. I'm looking for work, currently interviewing at Univision. Have been working at ugh Citigroup as assistant to Managing Director. Nice people, but not really my thing. I live in Park Slope with my plant (nameless) and maybe some spiders. It's cool. People visit.
But what about you? What have you been up to? Last time we spoke I think you were working at the Museum of Teeve. Still there?
Glad to be rebefriended,
Vanessa
Eevin wrote:
> Beatrice!
> We are befriended.
>
> How's every little thing with you?
> What news?
>
> Ee
>
> Vanessa wrote:
> > hello lovely eevin,
> > this is vanessa, now rejoining the world of the
> > computerable. want to befriend me?
> > have a wonderful day!
> > v
3.21.2004
3.20.2004
In a message dated 3/19/2004 1:00:54 PM Eastern Standard Time, CBotana2 writes:
To allay anyone's concerns that Vanessa may be the only woman this wide world over that is incompatible with another human being, I too am confirmed to have no man nor woman match in all continents, according to eHarmony. A Buddhist monk might have more luck in love than either of us. Alas, I am not even suitable for Vanessa whose profile must have been scanned against mine.
To allay anyone's concerns that Vanessa may be the only woman this wide world over that is incompatible with another human being, I too am confirmed to have no man nor woman match in all continents, according to eHarmony. A Buddhist monk might have more luck in love than either of us. Alas, I am not even suitable for Vanessa whose profile must have been scanned against mine.
3.18.2004
'The Penguin is Mightier than The Sword'
From: Berkeley Breathed
Date: Fri, Oct 10, 2003, 1:51 AM
Subject: Fwd: salon interview
> Last we heard from you, via the Onion interview a few years back,
> the odds of you ever doing a strip again seemed pretty slim
> (to put it mildly). What changed?
The world went and got silly again. I left in 1995 with things properly, safely dull, and couldn't imagine why anyone would feel it necessary again to start behaving ridiculously. It would have been at least courteous of the Republicans to warn a few of us inclined to retire our ink-swords that they had King George waiting in his zoom-zoom jetsuit aching to start the Crusades again.
From: Berkeley Breathed
Date: Fri, Oct 10, 2003, 1:51 AM
Subject: Fwd: salon interview
> Last we heard from you, via the Onion interview a few years back,
> the odds of you ever doing a strip again seemed pretty slim
> (to put it mildly). What changed?
The world went and got silly again. I left in 1995 with things properly, safely dull, and couldn't imagine why anyone would feel it necessary again to start behaving ridiculously. It would have been at least courteous of the Republicans to warn a few of us inclined to retire our ink-swords that they had King George waiting in his zoom-zoom jetsuit aching to start the Crusades again.
3.16.2004
I can't believe that George W. Bush soundbite I just heard on The Daily Show referring to Sen. Kerry about not making accusations without proof to back them up. That man is too, too much.
check this
Also, I love Jon Stewart and I need to marry him. squeep.
Reality TV snark quote of the day, from Television Without Pity's America's Next Top Model II forums:
pontoon, Couch Potato
Mar 16, 2004 @ 10:07 pm
"I was watching the show with Mrs. Pontoon and when Shandi's boyfriend wailed his quavering, sobbing, girly "Oh my gawwwd!", we both lost our shit. I think you'd have to be overly technical not to react thusly."
Thinking about this later, it just seems like such an awful situation for both of them. I can't imagine the producers and editors having a clear conscience about televising this scene. And yet, it was cringey and fascinating to watch. The weird paradoxes of reality TV. If we've all been through it one way or another, is it a 'larger human theme' or 'universal archetype'? Or is that an easy way around the fact that the tears of misery or humiliation of these poor schmos are just as unique and personal as yours or mine in the stall in the office bathroom or in bed at 4pm and should be left the heck alone.
I don't really know, but I have to say it makes for some undeniably compelling and satifying programming. Sometimes reality TV is just soooo real.
check this
Also, I love Jon Stewart and I need to marry him. squeep.
Reality TV snark quote of the day, from Television Without Pity's America's Next Top Model II forums:
pontoon, Couch Potato
Mar 16, 2004 @ 10:07 pm
"I was watching the show with Mrs. Pontoon and when Shandi's boyfriend wailed his quavering, sobbing, girly "Oh my gawwwd!", we both lost our shit. I think you'd have to be overly technical not to react thusly."
Thinking about this later, it just seems like such an awful situation for both of them. I can't imagine the producers and editors having a clear conscience about televising this scene. And yet, it was cringey and fascinating to watch. The weird paradoxes of reality TV. If we've all been through it one way or another, is it a 'larger human theme' or 'universal archetype'? Or is that an easy way around the fact that the tears of misery or humiliation of these poor schmos are just as unique and personal as yours or mine in the stall in the office bathroom or in bed at 4pm and should be left the heck alone.
I don't really know, but I have to say it makes for some undeniably compelling and satifying programming. Sometimes reality TV is just soooo real.
3.12.2004
I went to see the Nederlands Dans Theatre's 'ballets' Claude Pascal and others at the Brooklyn Academy of Music the other night with my friend James. It was unfortunately just awful, but had one redeeming moment, when a woman in a black Edwardian bustled gown with a fan stepped forward and pronounced "I like darrrknesss, and solllitude, and spaghetti."
That was the one thing in a performance full of random that was sort of random in a nice way.
That was the one thing in a performance full of random that was sort of random in a nice way.
From Dan Renzi's weblog, by way of Gawker.com
"Real World Miami star Dan Renzi has renounced reality television -- except, admirably, for one show: "I have decided that, when I die, I want to be reincarnated as a contestant on America's Next Top Model," he writes in his weblog. (Yes, in case you forgot, he was the gay one.)"
The Best TV Show Ever:
"I want to be Shandi. I want to have a criminal record and a messy, drug-addicted past. I want to have wild sex with hot Italian men, and then call my boyfriend in suburban Kansas City and crumble into guilt-riddled, emotionally-unstable breakdowns. I want to win dance contests because I'm the only one in the room who knows how to "do levels."
I love this guy!
"Real World Miami star Dan Renzi has renounced reality television -- except, admirably, for one show: "I have decided that, when I die, I want to be reincarnated as a contestant on America's Next Top Model," he writes in his weblog. (Yes, in case you forgot, he was the gay one.)"
The Best TV Show Ever:
"I want to be Shandi. I want to have a criminal record and a messy, drug-addicted past. I want to have wild sex with hot Italian men, and then call my boyfriend in suburban Kansas City and crumble into guilt-riddled, emotionally-unstable breakdowns. I want to win dance contests because I'm the only one in the room who knows how to "do levels."
I love this guy!
3.11.2004
George Michael, long may he live:
Giving it away for free: George Michael has announced that he won't be releasing albums in the traditional sense and will instead just put music out via the Internet for free download -- with the option for fans to donate money to charity should they so choose. "I've been very well remunerated for my talents over the years so I really don't need the public's money," the musician told BBC Radio 1. (Soundgenerator)
*having a Pump up the Volume / Grosse Pointe Blank moment*
So this one goes out to all the folks at Callahan's, from Spider, Mike and Jake-
Well I guess it would be nice
If I could touch your body
I know not everybody
Has got a body like you
But I've got to think twice
Before I give my heart away
And I know all the games you play
Because I play them too
Oh but I
Need some time off from that emotion
Time to pick my heart up off the floor
And when that love comes down
Without devotion
Well it takes a strong man baby
But I'm showing you the door
'Cause I gotta have faith...
Baby
I know you're asking me to stay
Say please, please, please, don't go away
You say I'm giving you the blues
Maybe
You mean every word you say
Can't help but think of yesterday
And another who tied me down to loverboy rules
Before this river
Becomes an ocean
Before you throw my heart back on the floor
Oh baby I reconsider
My foolish notion
Well I need someone to hold me
But I'll wait for something more
Yes I've gotta have faith...
Giving it away for free: George Michael has announced that he won't be releasing albums in the traditional sense and will instead just put music out via the Internet for free download -- with the option for fans to donate money to charity should they so choose. "I've been very well remunerated for my talents over the years so I really don't need the public's money," the musician told BBC Radio 1. (Soundgenerator)
*having a Pump up the Volume / Grosse Pointe Blank moment*
So this one goes out to all the folks at Callahan's, from Spider, Mike and Jake-
Well I guess it would be nice
If I could touch your body
I know not everybody
Has got a body like you
But I've got to think twice
Before I give my heart away
And I know all the games you play
Because I play them too
Oh but I
Need some time off from that emotion
Time to pick my heart up off the floor
And when that love comes down
Without devotion
Well it takes a strong man baby
But I'm showing you the door
'Cause I gotta have faith...
Baby
I know you're asking me to stay
Say please, please, please, don't go away
You say I'm giving you the blues
Maybe
You mean every word you say
Can't help but think of yesterday
And another who tied me down to loverboy rules
Before this river
Becomes an ocean
Before you throw my heart back on the floor
Oh baby I reconsider
My foolish notion
Well I need someone to hold me
But I'll wait for something more
Yes I've gotta have faith...
Free Will Astrology:
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Imagine that your life is a detective story.
The goal is not to solve a crime, but to solve the mystery of why you're
here on earth so you can carry out the special mission you've come to
accomplish. Sometimes you go for months without even looking for clues.
You sleepwalk through the world, reacting blindly to the tricks that the
gods use to try to wake you up. Then there are those phases when hot leads
and fresh evidence pop up all over the place, convincing you beyond a
doubt that magic is one of the fundamental properties of reality. This is
one of *those* times, Pisces.
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): Imagine that your life is a detective story.
The goal is not to solve a crime, but to solve the mystery of why you're
here on earth so you can carry out the special mission you've come to
accomplish. Sometimes you go for months without even looking for clues.
You sleepwalk through the world, reacting blindly to the tricks that the
gods use to try to wake you up. Then there are those phases when hot leads
and fresh evidence pop up all over the place, convincing you beyond a
doubt that magic is one of the fundamental properties of reality. This is
one of *those* times, Pisces.
3.10.2004
baby, you're Canadian, she said...
...
i had a dream last night that I was recently married to a jewish artist in his late thirties. we had a tiny baby, just a few weeks old. his name was isaac einstein and his parents didn't seem to overwhelmingly approve of me. for sure, my parents didn't approve of him because we lived in an apartment underground between several subway lines with a bunch of other people, including lizzy. our families had come to visit us, and we were trying to convince isaac that we should move to a nice two-bedroom in brooklyn, rather than raise our baby dodging trains and climbing down access ladders, but isaac refused to leave manhattan, despite my pleading. the baby was beautiful, and my husband was not bad either; he wasn't tall and was a bit dorky, with a nice face, and short straight brown hair and a funny leather jacket. at one point in the dream, i hugged him and felt very safe indeed. i was very attached to both of them, and felt so odd when i woke up.
as ever, i wonder if someplace in manhattan, a stubborn artist called isaac woke up this morning wondering about a dream he had in which he was married to a shiksa named vanessa and had a little baby...
hmm.
...
i had a dream last night that I was recently married to a jewish artist in his late thirties. we had a tiny baby, just a few weeks old. his name was isaac einstein and his parents didn't seem to overwhelmingly approve of me. for sure, my parents didn't approve of him because we lived in an apartment underground between several subway lines with a bunch of other people, including lizzy. our families had come to visit us, and we were trying to convince isaac that we should move to a nice two-bedroom in brooklyn, rather than raise our baby dodging trains and climbing down access ladders, but isaac refused to leave manhattan, despite my pleading. the baby was beautiful, and my husband was not bad either; he wasn't tall and was a bit dorky, with a nice face, and short straight brown hair and a funny leather jacket. at one point in the dream, i hugged him and felt very safe indeed. i was very attached to both of them, and felt so odd when i woke up.
as ever, i wonder if someplace in manhattan, a stubborn artist called isaac woke up this morning wondering about a dream he had in which he was married to a shiksa named vanessa and had a little baby...
hmm.
3.09.2004
-----Original Message-----
From: Soto, Vanessa B
Sent: Tuesday, March 09, 2004 1:44 PM
To: Tanya; Amit; Dhaya; Oscar; Rick; Piyush; Gachi; Nick
Subject: Thanks!
Hi guys,
Thanks so much for coming to lunch to celebrate the eleventh anniversary of my fifteenth birthday. Please forget those figures immediately, of course...
Love,
V
From: Soto, Vanessa B
Sent: Tuesday, March 09, 2004 1:44 PM
To: Tanya; Amit; Dhaya; Oscar; Rick; Piyush; Gachi; Nick
Subject: Thanks!
Hi guys,
Thanks so much for coming to lunch to celebrate the eleventh anniversary of my fifteenth birthday. Please forget those figures immediately, of course...
Love,
V
I think this is really interesting, and I usually agree with Heather Havrilesky. I'm also usually a huge sucker for Stephen King's (better) written work, though very rarely his televised/feature film projects. Kingdom Hospital, in keeping with tradition, is leaving me with an overwhelming feeling of meh, though my geekly email from SK.com advises me to "Remember that Kingdom Hospital is a 'novelization for television'. Like a novel, it will pay back dividends but you will have to give it a little bit of time." Well, I hope so, but in the meantime, our pal Heather had a few choice things to say about the miniseries premiere, and they go a little something like this:
My kingdom for a Band-Aid
But you know, as a devoted slave to "Paradise Hotel," I may be a little biased. Which brings us to an important distinction: There are critics who prefer to give the illusion that their word is final. They would like you to think that they have some privileged powers of perception, that they alone can separate what is Good from what is Bad.
Then there are people like me. I've got some good ideas, sure, but I also have a lot of personal preferences and prejudices based on a tangled set of psychosocial and cultural influences. Who knows, maybe if I didn't love ham so much, I would have enjoyed "Charlotte's Web" a little more when I was younger. Maybe if my parents got along better when I was a kid, I wouldn't love "Ordinary People" and "The Corrections" and "Six Feet Under" as much as I do.
Look, it's nice to pretend that you're objective. We all like to offer up this illusion whenever we can. But there comes a time when a writer must admit his or her prejudices. I watched Stephen King's "Kingdom Hospital," based on "The Kingdom" by Lars von Trier, and I tried to form an unsullied opinion of it. But here's the problem: I think Stephen King sucks.
To me, Stephen King is the worst kind of a sensationalist hack, the kind who puts a toddler in front of a 16-wheeler, or has a jilted lover masturbate all over his former girlfriend's bed, and he does it all without style or finesse or even an original turn of phrase or two. He's full of creepy stories, sure, but he's also full of hackneyed phrases and clichés. Sweet doggies turned rabid. Possessed toddlers. Brand new cars that smell almost as good as "pussy." I hate the stuff this guy writes about, the way he writes it, the way he takes his coffee, you name it.
So, let's take a scene from "Kingdom Hospital," just to see if you can understand where I'm coming from. A famous artist leaves his magnificent house to go for a run. As he's leaving, his wife tells him not to run on the road, because it's dangerous. Then she mentions that his latest painting is really weird. The artist leaves without saying goodbye, apparently angry at this comment. Guess what happens next? Instead of staying off the road, which we hear is quite dangerous, the artist runs right for it, and promptly gets mowed down by a guy in a van who's been swerving all over the road for several miles because he's trying to keep his Rottweiler away from a big raw steak which is, for some reason, within reach of the dog. The artist hits the windshield and ends up in a gruesome broken tangle on the ground -- just like a squashed ant, except with lots of blood and wild eyes staring up, helplessly. The guy in the van gets out, tells the bleeding tangled mess that he's really sorry, but he can't stick around because he's got an ounce of some unspecified drug in his dashboard.
Now, if the artist weren't famous, if the wife hadn't warned him about running on the road, if the guy in the van were trying to keep a poodle away from a bag of Cheetos instead of a Rottweiler from a steak, if he had no good excuse for leaving his victim bleeding on the road, aside from a fear of being charged with vehicular manslaughter, maybe I could excuse this scene. But everything here is so fundamentally filthy with Stephen King's grubby fingerprints, I really can't stand to watch. Did I mention that a crow lands on the bleeding guy's chest and threatens to eat his eyes out? A crow, get it? Crows are really creepy! Then, as I sit in amazement at the overly obvious, absurd details King has chosen, I vaguely recall something about his being in some kind of a serious accident a few years ago. A 10-second Google search later, I discover that every "absurd" detail I just listed, except the part about the drugs and the guy leaving the scene of the crime, is taken straight from the true story of King getting hit by a van while taking a walk through the country.
Has there ever been clearer proof of a critic's utter lack of objectivity? I am now willing to admit that I'm in no way qualified to analyze Stephen King's work. Obviously, I've disliked his books and movies for far too long to have anything reasonable to say about him.
...
Oooh. Burn! Well, she certainly has some excellent points about the sensationalist and arguably exploitative nature of King's work, but I thought it was a fascinating little blurb. It's amazing how when you let someone or something get on your nerves it can color your perceptions so totally.
Oddly, she didn't even mention the menacing saber-toothed anteater totem, which I thought was just screamingly funny.
My kingdom for a Band-Aid
But you know, as a devoted slave to "Paradise Hotel," I may be a little biased. Which brings us to an important distinction: There are critics who prefer to give the illusion that their word is final. They would like you to think that they have some privileged powers of perception, that they alone can separate what is Good from what is Bad.
Then there are people like me. I've got some good ideas, sure, but I also have a lot of personal preferences and prejudices based on a tangled set of psychosocial and cultural influences. Who knows, maybe if I didn't love ham so much, I would have enjoyed "Charlotte's Web" a little more when I was younger. Maybe if my parents got along better when I was a kid, I wouldn't love "Ordinary People" and "The Corrections" and "Six Feet Under" as much as I do.
Look, it's nice to pretend that you're objective. We all like to offer up this illusion whenever we can. But there comes a time when a writer must admit his or her prejudices. I watched Stephen King's "Kingdom Hospital," based on "The Kingdom" by Lars von Trier, and I tried to form an unsullied opinion of it. But here's the problem: I think Stephen King sucks.
To me, Stephen King is the worst kind of a sensationalist hack, the kind who puts a toddler in front of a 16-wheeler, or has a jilted lover masturbate all over his former girlfriend's bed, and he does it all without style or finesse or even an original turn of phrase or two. He's full of creepy stories, sure, but he's also full of hackneyed phrases and clichés. Sweet doggies turned rabid. Possessed toddlers. Brand new cars that smell almost as good as "pussy." I hate the stuff this guy writes about, the way he writes it, the way he takes his coffee, you name it.
So, let's take a scene from "Kingdom Hospital," just to see if you can understand where I'm coming from. A famous artist leaves his magnificent house to go for a run. As he's leaving, his wife tells him not to run on the road, because it's dangerous. Then she mentions that his latest painting is really weird. The artist leaves without saying goodbye, apparently angry at this comment. Guess what happens next? Instead of staying off the road, which we hear is quite dangerous, the artist runs right for it, and promptly gets mowed down by a guy in a van who's been swerving all over the road for several miles because he's trying to keep his Rottweiler away from a big raw steak which is, for some reason, within reach of the dog. The artist hits the windshield and ends up in a gruesome broken tangle on the ground -- just like a squashed ant, except with lots of blood and wild eyes staring up, helplessly. The guy in the van gets out, tells the bleeding tangled mess that he's really sorry, but he can't stick around because he's got an ounce of some unspecified drug in his dashboard.
Now, if the artist weren't famous, if the wife hadn't warned him about running on the road, if the guy in the van were trying to keep a poodle away from a bag of Cheetos instead of a Rottweiler from a steak, if he had no good excuse for leaving his victim bleeding on the road, aside from a fear of being charged with vehicular manslaughter, maybe I could excuse this scene. But everything here is so fundamentally filthy with Stephen King's grubby fingerprints, I really can't stand to watch. Did I mention that a crow lands on the bleeding guy's chest and threatens to eat his eyes out? A crow, get it? Crows are really creepy! Then, as I sit in amazement at the overly obvious, absurd details King has chosen, I vaguely recall something about his being in some kind of a serious accident a few years ago. A 10-second Google search later, I discover that every "absurd" detail I just listed, except the part about the drugs and the guy leaving the scene of the crime, is taken straight from the true story of King getting hit by a van while taking a walk through the country.
Has there ever been clearer proof of a critic's utter lack of objectivity? I am now willing to admit that I'm in no way qualified to analyze Stephen King's work. Obviously, I've disliked his books and movies for far too long to have anything reasonable to say about him.
...
Oooh. Burn! Well, she certainly has some excellent points about the sensationalist and arguably exploitative nature of King's work, but I thought it was a fascinating little blurb. It's amazing how when you let someone or something get on your nerves it can color your perceptions so totally.
Oddly, she didn't even mention the menacing saber-toothed anteater totem, which I thought was just screamingly funny.
3.05.2004
3.04.2004
STREET SPIRIT [fade out] (4:14)
radiohead
Rows of houses, all bearing down on me
I can feel their blue hands touching me
All these things into position
All these things we'll one day swallow whole
And fade out again and fade out
This machine will, will not communicate
These thoughts and the strain I am under
Be a world child, form a circle
Before we all go under
And fade out again and fade out again
Cracked eggs, dead birds
Scream as they fight for life
I can feel death, can see its beady eyes
All these things into position
All these things are one to swallow whole
And fade out again and fade out again
Immerse your soul in love
Immerse your soul in love
Thom: "'Street Spirit' is our purest song, but I didn't write it.... It wrote itself. We were just its messengers... Its biological catylysts. It's core is a complete mystery to me... and (pause) you know, I wouldn't ever try to write something that hopeless... All of our saddest songs have somewhere in them at least a glimmer of resolve... 'Street Spirit' has no resolve... It is the dark tunnel without the light at the end. It represents all tragic emotion that is so hurtful that the sound of that melody is its only definition. We all have a way of dealing with that song... It's called detachment... Especially me.. I detach my emotional radar from that song, or I couldn't play it... I'd crack. I'd break down on stage.. that's why its lyrics are just a bunch of mini-stories or visual images as opposed to a cohesive explanation of its meaning... I used images set to the music that I thought would convey the emotional entirety of the lyric and music working together... That's what's meant by 'all these things are one to swallow whole'.. I meant the emotional entirety, because I didn't have it in me to articulate the emotion... (pause) I'd crack.... Our fans are braver than I to let that song penetrate them, or maybe they don't realize what they're listening to.. They don't realize that 'Street Spirit' is about staring the fucking devil right in the eyes... and knowing, no matter what the hell you do, he'll get the last laugh...and it's real...and true. The devil really will get the last laugh in all cases without exception, and if I let myself think about that to long, I'd crack. I can't believe we have fans that can deal emotionally with that song... That's why I'm convinced that they don't know what it's about. It's why we play it towards the end of our sets. It drains me, and it shakes me, and hurts like hell everytime I play it, looking out at thousands of people cheering and smiling, oblivious to the tragedy of it's meaning, like when you're going to have your dog put down and it's wagging it's tail on the way there. That's what they all look like, and it breaks my heart.
I wish that song hadn't picked us as its catalysts, and so I don't claim it. It asks too much. (very long pause). I didn't write that song."
NO SURPRISES (3:49)
radiohead
A heart that's full up like a landfill
A job that slowly kills you
Bruises that won't heal
You look so tired and unhappy
Bring down the government
They don't, they don't speak for us
I'll take a quiet life
A handshake of carbon monoxide
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
Silent, silent
This is my final fit, my final bellyache with
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises please
Such a pretty house, such a pretty garden
No alarms and no surprises (let me out of here)
No alarms and no surprises (let me out of here)
No alarms and no surprises please (let me out of here)
silence, silence, please
i'm sorry if this is all a bit maudlin and boring but i'm having a bad day here and i'd like to buy the world a coke, or marry some gay folks-
[edited for extreme moodiness]
radiohead
Rows of houses, all bearing down on me
I can feel their blue hands touching me
All these things into position
All these things we'll one day swallow whole
And fade out again and fade out
This machine will, will not communicate
These thoughts and the strain I am under
Be a world child, form a circle
Before we all go under
And fade out again and fade out again
Cracked eggs, dead birds
Scream as they fight for life
I can feel death, can see its beady eyes
All these things into position
All these things are one to swallow whole
And fade out again and fade out again
Immerse your soul in love
Immerse your soul in love
Thom: "'Street Spirit' is our purest song, but I didn't write it.... It wrote itself. We were just its messengers... Its biological catylysts. It's core is a complete mystery to me... and (pause) you know, I wouldn't ever try to write something that hopeless... All of our saddest songs have somewhere in them at least a glimmer of resolve... 'Street Spirit' has no resolve... It is the dark tunnel without the light at the end. It represents all tragic emotion that is so hurtful that the sound of that melody is its only definition. We all have a way of dealing with that song... It's called detachment... Especially me.. I detach my emotional radar from that song, or I couldn't play it... I'd crack. I'd break down on stage.. that's why its lyrics are just a bunch of mini-stories or visual images as opposed to a cohesive explanation of its meaning... I used images set to the music that I thought would convey the emotional entirety of the lyric and music working together... That's what's meant by 'all these things are one to swallow whole'.. I meant the emotional entirety, because I didn't have it in me to articulate the emotion... (pause) I'd crack.... Our fans are braver than I to let that song penetrate them, or maybe they don't realize what they're listening to.. They don't realize that 'Street Spirit' is about staring the fucking devil right in the eyes... and knowing, no matter what the hell you do, he'll get the last laugh...and it's real...and true. The devil really will get the last laugh in all cases without exception, and if I let myself think about that to long, I'd crack. I can't believe we have fans that can deal emotionally with that song... That's why I'm convinced that they don't know what it's about. It's why we play it towards the end of our sets. It drains me, and it shakes me, and hurts like hell everytime I play it, looking out at thousands of people cheering and smiling, oblivious to the tragedy of it's meaning, like when you're going to have your dog put down and it's wagging it's tail on the way there. That's what they all look like, and it breaks my heart.
I wish that song hadn't picked us as its catalysts, and so I don't claim it. It asks too much. (very long pause). I didn't write that song."
NO SURPRISES (3:49)
radiohead
A heart that's full up like a landfill
A job that slowly kills you
Bruises that won't heal
You look so tired and unhappy
Bring down the government
They don't, they don't speak for us
I'll take a quiet life
A handshake of carbon monoxide
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
Silent, silent
This is my final fit, my final bellyache with
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises please
Such a pretty house, such a pretty garden
No alarms and no surprises (let me out of here)
No alarms and no surprises (let me out of here)
No alarms and no surprises please (let me out of here)
silence, silence, please
i'm sorry if this is all a bit maudlin and boring but i'm having a bad day here and i'd like to buy the world a coke, or marry some gay folks-
[edited for extreme moodiness]
News flash: Mean people make me cry. Fuck you, mean people.
Thanks to Alert Reader Erik:
Don't mess with Karma Ghosts!
Thanks to Alert Reader Erik:
Don't mess with Karma Ghosts!
3.03.2004
the best thing i've come up with this morning, by way of a 'Hi, Morgan,' inspired in part by Homer's disability search in "King-Size Homer" and partly by my televisual crisis of an evening- nothing to do tonight, so should i watch Angel out of order, before Nibblz gives me vids, last week's Apprentice, which I missed, or check out Kingdom Hospital, which, if it's good, how surprised would I be?
i'm suffering from juggler's despair.
boreanaz v. trump v. reanimated stumps,
mimetic paralysis, career antiperistalsis,
failed-limeric analysis?
maybe i'll just wash my hair.
i'm suffering from juggler's despair.
boreanaz v. trump v. reanimated stumps,
mimetic paralysis, career antiperistalsis,
failed-limeric analysis?
maybe i'll just wash my hair.
