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filth from another level (10 unread)

• 

  stuff

  Posted: May 28th, 2006, 2:08am PDT

  Tags:    [edit]

  good:

  • new books bought today
  • camp in one week!
  • mickey mouse is dead
  • quitting smoking
  • things are looking up

  neutral:

  • i'm not wearing any shorts right now.
  • irregular regularity

  bad:

  • being dick-slapped by the bank with $500 in assorted fees.
  • failed the brit lit course
  • the rib continues to hurt
  • high blood pressure

• 

  culled from

  Posted: May 26th, 2006, 2:49am PDT

  Tags:    [edit]

  the short story "one day all this will be yours"

  When I was younger I would hold broken glass in my hand and squeeze it until I couldn't think about anything else. Even now I can spin a carving knife into the air and catch it by the handle. In college I went to a palm reader, and she took one look and refused to say anything.

  —Philipp Meyer
• 

  you won't wait for what

  Posted: May 17th, 2006, 4:01am PDT

  Tags:    [edit]

  I made this for dinner. It was good.
  
  As far as causes go, alcohol remains deficient.
  
  Slidell spelled backwards almost looks like "ladies".
  
  All the hearsay has it that the levee by the industrial canal was blown out to keep the monied dry.
  
  Later while I was making groceries there was this dude telling the clerk how his automobile collided with an illegal alien on a bicycle. Turns out that the former was employed by the army corps of engineers so it was all cool. I shit you not.
• 

  the world's a much nicer place when ...

  Posted: May 12th, 2006, 11:32pm PDT

  Tags:    [edit]

  the world's a much nicer place when seen through freshly cleaned glasses.
• 

  Being the day before the dorms close, ...

  Posted: May 8th, 2006, 7:41pm PDT

  Tags:    [edit]

  Being the day before the dorms close, today is dumpster diving day. I scored a theatre student's lighting notes for a play along with two gently used notebooks (each with ~60 clean pages). Now we must write—and how.
• 

  "Walking the dog seems to ...

  Posted: May 6th, 2006, 11:56am PDT

  Tags:    [edit]

  "Walking the dog seems to have produced most of my books."
• 

  Beat Pound's Monad

  Posted: May 1st, 2006, 11:02pm PDT

  Tags:    [edit]

  The pounding came from down the hall, at the door by the elevator. Lately the doors here have been locked. Just this weekend was the school-sponsored revelry that was "springfest". There was a beer garden and games and crappy bands. It rained all day Saturday so the beer garden was moved inside so I didn't bother checking that shit out. Plus I was told that the beers were only allowed within a certain roped off perimeter. Fuck that shit. I don't drink in herds. The only springfest activity I took part in was the Feral Hall lock-out, wherein only one of the three entrances to the dorm is unlocked. At said entrance awaited the R.A. goons, ready to search backpacks for alcohol. I shit you not. This is what this place does to deter underage drinking: inconvenience those who don't drink and incite those who do to take their drinking elsewhere. Which I did. But I digress. I really wouldn't bother bitching about this were it not for the rain—and that one of the RAs, after nosing through my grocery bags, felt the need to ask what I was "planning to do with all those apples and celery". Just as I was telling her how I had made a distillery for sin, her phone rang and she took the call so I left to go see what the hell all that pounding was up the way.
  
  It's fucking loud.
  
  I take the stairs because it's faster and there's surprisingly less traffic. People here are lazy. As a general rule, I tend to avoid them. Two brief flights up and I'm back on my floor and the pounding sounds off louder than before. By this time I'm fairly shook up. I consider walking down the hall to see who wants to be let in but my suite appears first and my door's ajar so it's all too easy for me to slip in and ignore the pounding.
  
  Which carries on in desperation before trailing off. Or I turn on the music and forget about it. I forget, really. But so I'm still somewhat shaky after all this, so I begin combining coffee dregs to make a cup. The old filter full of grinds is in my hand when the door to the suite shakes. The poundings followed me home. I pull the door open as a hand is raised to pound further. It's King Tubby's consort in gym clothes and distress. Her hair's mussed and she asks after her man. I'm now shaken speechless and motion only towards the empty cave from where King Tubby presides. FILTH opens the other door in bewilderment. Luckily he has the presence of mind to answer her. We don't know where King Tubby went off to. She makes a weak, ineffectual sound. I muster up a why and she says because he's a fucking asshole and storms off. I stare at FILTH for a few seconds, trying not to laugh. He returns to his gameboy emulator and I dump the grinds in the brown paper grocery bag we've taken to using for trash. The door to the elevator slams shut down the hall.
  
  I nuke my coffee and try not to shake. FILTH pumps his volume to excess. It's amazing how well his tinny PC speakers can crank out the shit he likes to listen to. The pounding is replaceable if I don the headphones, so I do and try to settle myself. Trying not to think of how the snarky nun says the reflexive pronoun escapes grammar's graspings. Trying not to think inside extension. Trying not to think of how the fauxhardwood floors feel, ground into your ass after you've passed out reading or stretching or trawling, still it's all the same: you always awaken with that same damn stiff limbs all akimbo, your skin corduroy and muscles made malleable by malice—the sort of bodyache that comes along with the carelessness of a metaphor impounded from overuse.
  
  I knock on the bathroom door, even though I know nobody's in there. FILTH pokes his head out expectantly. We stare blankly at each other and then I tell him the can's empty. We repeat the where's-king-tubby routine and he gives me a sour look when I laugh. Can't be helped. I ask for a pound of flesh and FILTH shudders with a start. I take my seat at the little table and pound upon memory of recent happenings.
  
  King Tubby returns, perspiration aswirl with wires trailing out ears. I nod politely and carry on my fingertips pounding against iBook's bleulatex protective film. FILTH reappears and shortly seeks counsel with King Tubby.
  
  Time passes.
  
  King Tubby's out and about now. I meet his complaints of hunger with a shrug. Our cupboards provide only the illusion of emptiness, not unlike King Tubby's tummy.
  
  We both agree not to discuss the Gnome. King Tubby inquires as to what was said during his absence. I tell him of his consort's confusion. He chuckles and says she's called him far worse before. His fist pounds in hand but then stops to reap chips from his domain. Crumbs of commissar and tortilla salted with unthought-of theatrics chip and fall to the floor with a gentle shake. He tells me to shake off Salinger once and for all, forgo spirituality, forget aesthetics and leave that damn sword for someone else to overhear. I barely pick up on what he's saying as the outside is pounding out recriminatory come-ons in ones and twos for what could be our last time trial together—at least until the hair grows back and we look a little less grotesque. Still, the cyclist stopped counting on us to arrive after we assayed the indignity's cause to be attrition. King Tubby pounds his stomach in hunger.
  
  I bury my nose deep in repetition: he's wanting curry and I can't say why I won't cook again, only that the trouble takes too much time unless you hurry yet still I worry about decomposing our shared history before it gets any more blurry . . . but I can't shoulder the burden alone forever, so I bury my nose deep in repetition.
  
  He's dancing now—if you can call it that. Pelvic thrusts and all that jive. Something about Halo and how I can't hear him anymore and I'm glad to have finally invested in a decent pair of earphones, even if they are of restrictive ear muff variety. Play dumb and music loud as you like.
  
  Shake it.
  
  Finally King Tubby takes off, with FILTH in tow, and I'm alone again. I take the headphones off and can hear the soccer ball dribble down the hall faintly. A door opens and the noise stops. Ears aprick yet outside there's nothing happening. My foot falls asleep. I stay seated and give it a good shake. The syllables spill forth still as my heart pounds.
• 

  april is poetry month

  Posted: April 29th, 2006, 3:13am PDT

  Tags:    [edit]

  
  
  Have compassion for everyone you meet,
  even if they don't want it.
  What appears bad manners, an ill temper or cynicism
  is always a sign of things no ears have heard,
  no eyes have seen.
  You do not know what wars are going on down there where the spirit meets
  the bone.
  
  -- Miller Williams
• 

  The Ways We Touch

  Posted: April 29th, 2006, 3:13am PDT

  Tags:    [edit]

  Have compassion for everyone you meet,
  even if they don't want it.
  What appears bad manners, an ill temper or cynicism
  is always a sign of things no ears have heard,
  no eyes have seen.
  You do not know what wars are going on down there where the spirit meets
  the bone.
  
  —Miller Williams
• 

  meme

  Posted: April 25th, 2006, 9:28pm PDT

  Tags:    [edit]

  Just BOLD those you've read, ITALICIZE the ones you've been meaning to read and ??? the ones you have never heard of.
  
  
  Allcott, Louisa May–Little Women
  Allende, Isabel–The House of Spirits ???
  Angelou, Maya–I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
  Atwood, Margaret–Cat's Eye
  Austen, Jane–Emma
  Bambara, Toni Cade–Salt Eaters ??
  Barnes, Djuna–Nightwood ??
  de Beauvoir, Simone–The Second Sex
  Blume, Judy–Are You There God? It's Me Margaret
  Burnett, Frances–The Secret Garden
  Bronte, Charlotte–Jane Eyre
  Bronte, Emily–Wuthering Heights
  Buck, Pearl S.–The Good Earth ??
  Byatt, A.S.–Possession ??
  Cather, Willa–My Antonia ??
  Chopin, Kate–The Awakening
  Christie, Agatha–Murder on the Orient Express
  Cisneros, Sandra–The House on Mango Street ??
  Clinton, Hillary Rodham–Living History ????
  Cooper, Anna Julia–A Voice From the South ??
  Danticat, Edwidge–Breath, Eyes, Memory ??
  Davis, Angela–Women, Culture, and Politics ??
  Desai, Anita–Clear Light of Day ??
  Dickinson, Emily–Collected Poems
  Duncan, Lois–I Know What You Did Last Summer ??
  DuMaurier, Daphne–Rebecca ??
  Eliot, Geroge–Middlemarch
  Emecheta, Buchi–Second Class Citizen ??
  Erdrich, Louise–Tracks ??
  Esquivel, Laura–Like Water for Chocolate
  Flagg, Fannie–Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe
  Friedan, Betty–The Feminine Mystique ??
  Frank, Anne–Diary of a Young Girl
  Gilman, Charlotte Perkins–The Yellow Wallpaper ??
  Gordimer, Nadine–July's People ??
  Grafton, Sue–S is for Silence
  Hamilton, Edith–Mythology
  Highsmith, Patricia–The Talented Mr. Ripley
  hooks, bell–Bone Black ??
  Hulmes, Keri — The Bone People
  Hurston, Zora Neale–Dust Tracks on the Road
  Jacobs, Harriet–Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl ??
  Jackson, Helen Hunt–Ramona ??
  Jackson, Shelley — The Melancholy of Anatomy
  Jackson, Shirley–The Haunting of Hill House ??
  Jong, Erica–Fear of Flying ??
  Keene, Carolyn–The Nancy Drew Mysteries (any of them)
  Kidd, Sue Monk–The Secret Life of Bees
  Kincaid, Jamaica–Lucy
  Kingsolver, Barbara–The Poisonwood Bible
  Kingston, Maxine Hong–The Woman Warrior ??
  Larsen, Nella–Passing ??
  L'Engle, Madeleine–A Wrinkle in Time
  Le Guin, Ursula K.–The Left Hand of Darkness
  Lee, Harper–To Kill a Mockingbird
  Lessing, Doris–The Golden Notebook
  Lively, Penelope–Moon Tiger ??
  Lorde, Audre–The Cancer Journals ??
  Martin, Ann M.–The Babysitters Club Series (any of them)
  McCullers, Carson–The Member of the Wedding ??
  McMillan, Terry–Disappearing Acts ??
  Markandaya, Kamala–Nectar in a Sieve ??
  Marshall, Paule–Brown Girl, Brownstones ??
  Mitchell, Margaret–Gone with the Wind
  Montgomery, Lucy–Anne of Green Gables
  Morgan, Joan–When Chickenheads Come Home to Roost ??
  Morrison, Toni–Song of Solomon
  Murasaki, Lady Shikibu–The Tale of Genji ??
  Munro, Alice–Lives of Girls and Women ??
  Murdoch, Iris–Severed Head ??
  Naylor, Gloria–Mama Day ??
  Niffenegger, Audrey–The Time Traveller's Wife ??
  Oates, Joyce Carol–We Were the Mulvaneys ??
  O'Connor, Flannery–A Good Man is Hard to Find
  Piercy, Marge–Woman on the Edge of Time ??
  Picoult, Jodi–My Sister's Keeper ??
  Plath, Sylvia–The Bell Jar
  Porter, Katharine Anne–Ship of Fools ??
  Proulx, E. Annie–The Shipping News ??
  Rand, Ayn–The Fountainhead
  Ray, Rachel–365: No Repeats ??
  Rhys, Jean–Wide Sargasso Sea ??
  Robinson, Marilynne–Housekeeping ??
  Rocha, Sharon–For Laci ??
  Sebold, Alice–The Lovely Bones
  Shelley, Mary–Frankenstein
  Smith, Betty–A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
  Smith, Zadie–White Teeth
  Spark, Muriel–The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie ??
  Spyri, Johanna–Heidi ??
  Strout, Elizabeth–Amy and Isabelle ??
  Steel, Danielle–The House
  Tan, Amy–The Joy Luck Club
  Tannen, Deborah–You're Wearing That?
  Ulrich, Laurel–A Midwife's Tale ??
  Urquhart, Jane–Away ??
  Walker, Alice–The Temple of My Familiar ??
  Welty, Eudora–One Writer's Beginnings
  Wharton, Edith–Age of Innocence
  Wilder, Laura Ingalls–Little House in the Big Woods
  Winterson, Jeanette — Oranges Aren't the Only Fruit
  Wollstonecraft, Mary–A Vindication of the Rights of Women
  Woolf, Virginia–A Room of One's Own