What does the universe taste like?

As it turns out scientists have an answer to this question. Yes, I know but Luke is not dabbling in the lawn clippings again. There is merit here folks. If the Max Planck institute says it is so then we have to trust the scientists. I personally think this post is for the artists though. Do scientists even eat raspberries?


http://www.foodiefixation.com/archives/2297

My own Turkish Prison

Apartment troubles are over my friends. I have found new digs and have moved in. Needless to say from the title of this post, but the apartment is on the small side. 180 square feet of mine though. I told the apartment manager its the perfect writers apartment; small, dark with high ceilings so if the walls start closing in you have the hang yourself option. He was not amused but I thought it was funny. Now comes the furniture. I have to think like a hobbit and get extra creative this time as space is a premium. The most important feature is a bed, which I have not slept in in over 2 months now. The massage therapist is going to love me. Or maybe vice-versa.
So the next round of the next adventure begins. This time all things are going to be textbook so no worries needed. Right? All I know is the next apartment is going to be palatial. 500 sq. feet EASY.

OH! Sign of the day.  "The IRS" if placed as one words spells...............THEIRS. Think about that a while. Or don't. Don't is better.

Charles Bowden

I just got done listening to Charles Bowdens' "Murder City" lecture about the killings in Ciudad Juarez and holy shit! Bowden, who has a great resonate voice out of a 40's western, has reported in Juarez for 20+ years and has some interesting things to say about the city. The big story about Juarez over the past decade has been the murder of 2000+ women but Bowden says that is just scratching the surface. Those 2000 murders are only 8% of the total murders and most of the victims are men. That is not to take away from the tragedy of the womens murders but to point out that their is a much much darker side to the inner workings of Juarez than the american people have been told. Listen to this man. Riveting and highly informative. I certainly plan on purchasing several of his books on the subject.

Dangers of Video Games

Met a homeless guy today that completely took me by surprise. Now because he was homeless, I know a bunch of homeless guys, but why he was homeless. He is a video game addict. Video games, World of Warcraft specifically, completely rules this mans life. Seriously? This is what addiction has become in the 21st century? Lets see if I can correctly understand this. You wake up at noon or noon-thirty, go into an internet cafe or coffee shop, and play video games until midnight. Then you stay at other games houses and play till the sun rises.

This man is 38 years old so how the hell do I feel sorry for this guy. Personally, I wanted to slap the shit out of him and say "Get a real fucking addiction asshole, try meth or heroin, but get real. Thats not as addiction and your not a 13 year old boy." As a general rule I really sympathize with the homeless dudes. Most of them are just down on their luck and need a break, but this guy. Fuck em. If I see him tomorrow I'm gonna kick him in the nuts.  DUMBASS.

The Saturday Afternoon Post

In the ever plodding process of my catharsis I have decided to check in, as it were, on the Padgett blog this saturday late afternoon. The good news is that it is not as much of a burden as a daily compulsion. You, dear reader, are unfortunate enough to read this shit. The morning began with a shot, literally as someone decided to crack one off at the ass crack of dawn, so I crawled my ass off the couch and decided 7 am was late enough to sleep in and the day should begin. The bad news is the bars dont open until noon so I had to kill 4-5 hours until my daily ablution. No worries, as I was able to while away the hours with a booktv marathon, four chapters of a good novel and a carafe of coffee.

The bars of Mercer street have a multitude of quasi-psychotic personalities. And thank god for that. The number of story ideas I have collected over the past weeks should keep me busy until rapture. Somewhere around my 4th pint, and desperately trying to ignore the dog that keeps humping my leg, I came to a conclusion. It may be in my best interest to eat. Bread, cheese, chicken and rice and water. Brunch of champions! Then back to a late afternoon nightcap before the Mariners game. I honestly dont think you could diagram a better saturday, well maybe minus the dog hump.

The evening should provide interest as well as mariners fans, like their beloved city, tend to be wildly optimistic. And I love wild optimism bordering on denial. Who's to say though. Maybe they can win more than 62 games this year. The good news is that hockey playoffs start soon, the weather is getting warmer and my beer is getting cold. Good evening dear people. Until we meet again.

People of Pioneer Square. Part 3

And now Tex. Tex is another one of the wonderful characters that inhabit Pioneer Square. Tex, as his nickname indicates-no idea his given name, is from.....guess.....guess. CORRECT. TEX-ASS. But no worries about Tex as he personifies everything that is good about the state of Texas; sweet tea, deliberate southern drawl, bad cigarettes and MANORS. Yep, you heard correct you jaded bastards. MANORS. Yes sir and Yes Maam. I know most of you fuckers have problems with that because it makes you feel old or disrespected but Up Yours. Deal with it!
Tex stands a slim and bow-legged 5-8 and checks in at about 160. Slight in frame is not a problem for Tex as he has a great, deep, commanding southern gentleman voice. He reminds me of what is good about the south. He also has a great attitude. Even though he has been unemployed for a year, he's a welder, he still wakes up everyday, orders his sweet tea at Starbucks and then hammers the web sites for jobs. Shit...no wonder I like these guys. I am half a step away from joining them.
Tex has only two ambitions in life. Getting a job and getting back to Texas. He, like an amazing amount of people that I run into, hates Seattle. No gray area there, clouds notwithstanding, either you like this place or not. It's easy to root for Tex because he is so genuine. What you see is what you get and honestly, this day and age, thats a great character trait. You get my vote Tex and best of luck to you.

Bear with me.

I am trying to sync all of my Goodreads reviews on my blog for continuity sake so have patience. Once finished I promise AWSOME-NESS.!

"Indian Killer" Sherman Alexie

Interesting book. Alexie has simple prose; short, terse sentences that flow well from paragraph to paragraph. He also explores a very interesting topic and one close to my heart. How Indians perceive and are perceived by outsiders. Every character in the story fit into a quasi-stereo type. The activist female indian working for Indian rights and helping the homeless. The white guy shock jock redneck who calls for all indians to be beaten or killed, blah blah blah. The book was a bit angry in theme (Alexie has a wonderful sense of humor when speaking) but it does not come off like a sermon and/or a raving. "Indian Killer" is more of a statement. I love the fact that Alexie weaves magical realism and Indian folklore, as the two are natural complements, but I don't believe this is his best effort. That does not mean that I will not read any more Alexie. Quite the contrary I plan on reading much more of Alexie's novel's, stories and plays.

http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/68530952

Free time...............

Now that I have my excess share of free time this bloody blog is going to take a beating. And whats on todays menu you ask? Good question. The multiple personalities of punctuation. For example:

The exclamation point! Way too much caffeine for this dude. I mean really, bring it down a notch man. I cant understand you through all the screaming. What?......What?......I still can understand you, you have to calm down. Take a breath. Count to three or some shit. What?.......What?......I still got nothing. Call me when you come down.

The question mark? Really, you damn existential nightmare. What are you three. Why is the sky blue?, how many toes does a pig have?, Do they serve ice cream in heaven? What do I look like, a fucking encyclopedia? Keep your questions to yourself. No one wants to hear your shit.

The colon: Yeah, yeah, make a list of this dude. How many lists can you make: 1. This one 2. Several others. 3. As many as it takes to get my point across. I get it, you have issues. Again, keep them to yourself.

The Semi-colon; Pretentious bastard. Yeah your smart we get it, but can you use it properly in a sentence. Didnt think so. Stick to your commas and periods asshole.

And, the comma,......I love you comma, your my best interrupted friend. What would I do without you.

Wednesday night with a beer........

Wondering around lower Queen Anne this evening I was able to find out some interesting information. First, dont type and drink. Thats free kids, you cant find this kind of information in a fucking book. Second, dear god their are a lot of lonely ass people out there. It's sad really, people cant find someone that they can share a moment with; ouch.... and best of luck to you. Third, unattractive people drink to excess. Present company excluded their are some ugly ass people out there. Without boring you with the details I had a highly entertaining and eventful evening. Needless to say, on a general scale, not impressed. WOW. Have people become so jaded?

The short answer is: I think most people are looking for something that is just beyond their grasp and for whatever reason they are being held back from their accomplishment. For this reason, and primarily this reason, I have decided to drink alone in the future. No expectations. No worries. Leave me in peace dear public, I have nothing to offer and my humor goes by the wayside. Nice effort, but its not going to happen. This may be the most well read city in the nation but you cant put a price on emotional intelligence; or lack there of....

Goodnight all........

Bones of the Moon by Jonathan Carroll

The best drugs must be in Austria, either because Carroll lives there or moved there. Everything the man writes reads like something that would give his namesake shivers and a smile. Maybe its all in a last name, eh. Alternate dream realities, talking animals and a healthy, if somewhat optimistically hallucinogenic, take on the afterlife. Written in first person female protagonist style. Better him than me; I am lost with the female voice, both in the spoken and written form. Maybe a female friend of mine can tell me if he got it right. I would like to think so because I enjoyed the novel so, but fucked if I could tell you authenticity. Wait for the ending though, you always see it coming with Carroll but are still surprised when you turn the last page.

Downtown observations

Saw something last week absolutely fascinating. Now this is going to come off bizarre, but anyone who knows me can offer a better explanation than myself. Pulling up to a bus stop on 2nd and Seneca I noticed a man dressed all in yellow communicating with another gentleman via ASL. The difference was the yellow clad man was holding the other man's hands. This is when it dawned on me that he was deaf/blind.

Now, as humans on this planet we all have our problems but damn man. Here is a man that cannot see OR hear, yet is smiling while navigating the bus system in downtown Seattle. You, yes you reader, can NEVER have a bad day.

I was so transfixed by this heart warming action that I forgot to move over and give the man my seat. Needless to say i got some dirty looks. Hey people, it wasnt disrespect, I was just engrossed and fascinated. Sorry. My bad. Yellow man sat down and promptly pulled out his BRAILE readers digest. Immediately flipped to his save page and began reading. Damn I wish I could have had a conversation with that man. Talk about stories.

Long live Lovecraft!

Scare the shit out of em Cthulu!

Stuck on Pause

Waiting......

Waiting...............

Waiting...........................

Dear Prudence,   Hello Patience.

Dear God Why!

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcMplQPv9zktknKb54FZyokMxCpd_LxlHSJHwSAmTubkLmVsne_gd1-1gZYrCMDbmqiK7B7tasQ6WlruFdUBgF0_1HG5JQJCpvbY5t5rr9a4tI0a7N_EX9B5GBW8FAkkhgCE2KgSJ994k/s640/libera_shave_02.jpg

Old habits die hard

Cant sleep. Too worried. And yet once again the past is here to haunt me. If anyone does have a memory eraser then I would like to volunteer for a beta test. Some things may be best left forgotten. The ghosts of the past haunt the prospect of the future. Sounds cryptic huh. You should be on this end.

Of Mice and Men

Well depression is the first word that comes to mind......

Outstanding play. Great set, good acting and a well written script are the hat trick that make good plays (I'll leave the under-appriciated  costumes for later). Lets start with the set. Although elaborate in size, a simple effective set. Essentially, a dusty plain in the central valley of California. This spartan approach fits well as it doesnt distract from the overally dialogue laden script. The acting; very solid. The actor that plays George does a good job with a difficult part; he has to play a hard ass that is sensetive and this actor does that effectively. My favorate, as I am constantly bised, is the character of Candy. The actor was previously in Conor McPherson's "the Seafarer" which is one of the best plays I have ever attended. I mean come on, how can you not feel empathy for Candy. Lenny, well Lenny is Lenny and lets leave it at that.

 Manning did a great job of direction. I mean I dont know if the adaptation was written by him, if so then he is fucking amazing and it makes sense that The Rep is back to doing well, but that notwithstanding, the direction was simple and left the actors to carry out the Steinbeck quality dialogue that was the strength of the novel.

Now on a personal note. Dont go see a somber play in a somber mood. Ball call. Doesnt help with the overall theater experience. Then again, how can you walk away from this play feeling good about yourself. He had to fucking shoot Lenny for his own good for christ's sake. How the hell do you smile after that. Go straight to the bar, do not pass go, do not collect your 200 dollars. Whiskey, straight up, leave the bottle.

And last, but not least costumers. As always, under-appreciated, but not forgotten. Well done ladies and gentlemen. As always, well done. For those of you in the distressing game, I couldnt have distressed better if I gave those clothes to teen-aged boys for a year and told them to never stay clean. Dirty it UP!

People of Pioneer Square. Part 2

And now for Warren. Warren may be my favorite person I encounter everyday. He reminds me of a big, lost child in a cruel, cruel world. An innocent that is stuck, perpetually, swimming with sharks. Warren is about 5-10 and an easy 240 puppy dog pounds. With his big, sandblast proof grin he is one of the first individuals that crosses the threshold every morning.

Tall pike, no room. No worries Warren, coming right up.

And so it goes. All afternoon.

It is usually on my lunch break that I get to talk to Warren and the gang. They start me off with a "whats new" session of the latest gossip in Pioneer Square. Then, of course being Seattle, the weather. Not IF, but how much its going to rain and WILL oh WILL there be sun today. Warren, who is the least vocal of the crew, lets others talk as a rule and just adds addendums here and there. But that smile man. Its infectious. Someone that wears their heart on their sleeve. I have had students like Warren and met many people over the years like this man, who at best is 30. They are infectious, the kind of people that you couldnt dream of hurting, only wish them success and cant imagine how they have gotten themselves in the situation they are in; much less how the hell they could still smile all the time. What the FUCK do you have to smile about man!
I know full well what the answer is but it still baffles me after 36 years.

"I'm still here, things are ok today and they will be better tomorrow"

How they hell can that not brighten your day. Talk about eternal optimism from a person that has nothing left to loose. How can you have problems? You dont.

An uneasy day off

First real day off in a while and boy I had great plans: Coffee, reading, a good brunch an afternoon adult beverage. Sounds great right. RIGHT! Well it should have been. Woke up an started at the first on my list, ended up on Cap Hill at an ENORMOUS book store, found 4 books for 4 bucks and then had a killer lunch. Well you ask, whats the problem. Well I would answer, not a fucking clue. Maybe I have gotten so used to waking up at the ass crack of dawn and working like an indentured servant til 12-1 that I forgot how to have a day off. Fucking bummer man. The good news is I have tomorrow to practice again. Perhaps a routine is needed. You know some sort of semblance where I can get my rhythm. Yep, thats it. Tomorrow will be better.

The People of Pioneer Square. Part 1

Hello everybody. I would like you to meet John. John is one of the many homeless, which is a misnomer and I will get to that, that occupy the space that is Pioneer Square. John is an affable, outgoing man in his early 50's, with wild grey hair that puts one in mind of a 1930's scientist. If you can find a day John is not smiling then let me know. I have not seen one yet. In a nutshell here is his story: semi-retired carpenter, out of work, too old to hire, too young to retire. He gets some disability, but is a healthy strong 6-2 195. No work these days so John lives on the streets of Seattle. By day he lounges in the many Starbucks that occupy Pioneer Square, giving advice and helping some of the younger guys that have recently become "homeless." By night he is scouring the many shelters looking for a bed.

*The term homeless is fucking meaningless, these people dont need homes, they need houses or apartments. A home is a construct: man, wife, child=home. These people need affordable places to live and should be labeled as so. How about "Street People," at least that is fucking honest.

Every time I come away from talking to John, which is on a daily basis the past month, I feel better as a person. How can it be then, that the ignored, the Street People if you will, can bring joy to other people when they have so little to give. It's the human condition and something I lost sight of and took for granted; all theory and no practicality. After 13 years away from university I finally get to use my degree for which it was intended. I get to interact with people; study them and make/ form my own opinions. No university bias, no news spin and no hyperbole. I can only hope I get to meet more people like John; men with integrity and decency for fellow humans. It's just a shame I have to find those qualities in the Street People of Seattle. Maybe we could all learn a lesson. Next time you see a "homeless" person on the street, say hi to them. You may learn something about yourself. Or you may just make someone smile, at least for a little while, something for which we all should strive.

If only......

I may enjoy this one more than the Kindle. Damn April Fools.....


http://www.librarything.com/blogs/librarything/2011/04/introducing-the-librarything-e-an-ereader-from-librarything/