Thursday, March 19, 2009
This Modern Life
I wonder if the 45 seconds I spent standing in front of the microwave negated the health benefits of my organic vegan black bean and rice wrap?
Sherman vs. Colbert
| The Colbert Report | Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c | |||
| Sherman Alexie | ||||
| comedycentral.com | ||||
| ||||
Sherman Alexie is here in the Ham Wednesday - Friday for our first Whatcom Reads event, where everyone in the County read The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (Native American). We spoke briefly about his experience on the Colbert Report where Colbert was ambushed. To paraphrase Sherman, he expected a bookish introvert. There are few who've gone toe-to-toe with Colbert like the Sher Man.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
It's Good News Week, Really
For those of you who can remember the release of the song "It's Good News Week" by Hedgehoppers Anonymous in 1965, you know there was just a hint of satire, a pinch of irony. But times have changed. Sick of watching your retirement plummet, Rush Limbaugh blather and spew, suicide bombings and global warming? There are several cures. Good News Daily and GoodNews Network are news sites that feature only accounts detailing the more benevolent, altruistic, and spiritually enlightened aspects of homo sapiens, and from the polluted mainstream media streams it seems there are damn few of these around. Well there are more than you might think.
The news on these sites will give many people optimism, and proof that there is more occuring in the "human thaing" than catastrophe. Check them out.
The news on these sites will give many people optimism, and proof that there is more occuring in the "human thaing" than catastrophe. Check them out.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Dog Thinks of Trakl
The dark fir, snow, haunted
evening light reminds Dog
of Georg Trakl’s poetry which master
reads aloud now and then, “blackness,
silence and snow” although
it isn’t exactly silent, the car stereo
across the street battering obnoxiously, still
Dog is filled with inexpressible sorrow
and an inexhaustible appetite for young
wine. Out of the darkness and would-be
silence, the companionship of a forest-hemmed
tavern beckons. The young wine, pats
on the head, maybe even a belly scratching.
But the car leaves, and silence does now descend,
and along with it, the “blue grief of evening.”
evening light reminds Dog
of Georg Trakl’s poetry which master
reads aloud now and then, “blackness,
silence and snow” although
it isn’t exactly silent, the car stereo
across the street battering obnoxiously, still
Dog is filled with inexpressible sorrow
and an inexhaustible appetite for young
wine. Out of the darkness and would-be
silence, the companionship of a forest-hemmed
tavern beckons. The young wine, pats
on the head, maybe even a belly scratching.
But the car leaves, and silence does now descend,
and along with it, the “blue grief of evening.”
Friday, March 6, 2009
No Poem Today
Just crows
in trees
in sun
and in other news, a Canadian study has found that the plastic lining in canned beverages contains Bisphenol A, a chemical which mimics estrogen. So those macho guys sitting in their pickups sipping brew are getting more in touch with their feminine side every sip.
in trees
in sun
and in other news, a Canadian study has found that the plastic lining in canned beverages contains Bisphenol A, a chemical which mimics estrogen. So those macho guys sitting in their pickups sipping brew are getting more in touch with their feminine side every sip.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Dog Disputes the Existence of God
Dog, knowing his name spelled backwards
is God, still has doubts. Would a rational, beneficent
God create Pomeranians? Dog doesn’t think so.
Six of them tangle now on the other side of the fence,
a chaotic, irritating Pilobolus of ratdog fury, gone
berserk over the simple fact that Dog is lifting
his leg on the rhododendron in their front yard.
The sound is that of rabid mosquitoes on meth…
not pleasant. But with God, one never knows. Perhaps
they are yet another test, tedious as this gets, being
Job. Perhaps He has His reasons. Dog wanders
away from the glistening rhodi leaves, the nightmarish
noise and looks to the sky, pewter as usual. Why Pomeranians?
Dog asks silently, Why? He realizes this question, although
in other languages, other forms, has been asked
a million times before, and will be asked a million
times again. And that no answer will ever come, no
answer clear as a righteous bark on a moonlit night.
is God, still has doubts. Would a rational, beneficent
God create Pomeranians? Dog doesn’t think so.
Six of them tangle now on the other side of the fence,
a chaotic, irritating Pilobolus of ratdog fury, gone
berserk over the simple fact that Dog is lifting
his leg on the rhododendron in their front yard.
The sound is that of rabid mosquitoes on meth…
not pleasant. But with God, one never knows. Perhaps
they are yet another test, tedious as this gets, being
Job. Perhaps He has His reasons. Dog wanders
away from the glistening rhodi leaves, the nightmarish
noise and looks to the sky, pewter as usual. Why Pomeranians?
Dog asks silently, Why? He realizes this question, although
in other languages, other forms, has been asked
a million times before, and will be asked a million
times again. And that no answer will ever come, no
answer clear as a righteous bark on a moonlit night.
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