An Abbreviated Year in Social Status-ing

A Thanksgiving Prayer...

from the inimitable William S. Burroughs...

(click for his reading)

Thanks for the wild turkey and the Passenger Pigeons, destined to be shit out through wholesome American guts

thanks for a Continent to despoil and poison —

thanks for Indians to provide a modicum of challenge and danger —

thanks for vast herds of bison to kill and skin, leaving the carcass to rot —

thanks for bounties on wolves and coyotes —

thanks for the American Dream to vulgarize and falsify until the bare lies shine through —

(more after the jump)

The Poet's Hovel

whisper it

and never tell

the things I give and offer

to you, my Mistress Moon.

I give you my obedience

sweet pale pond reflection.

I give you my life

lonely pane refraction.

I'll take you as Wife

and to me you will be

all and nothing.

hm 11.11.10

Re-Vamp.

I have revamped my website, oobermensh, to include my miscellaneous esoterica. Included now are two blues tunes and a mysterious reference to being some kind of oracle.

Do visit.

Thank you. Here's one bone. Tell me its significance...

The Poet's Hovel

Slightly shifting eddies without

When watched through drowsy eyelids

Speak a simple story

Yet so simple misconceptions spring

As summer phragmites

Aside wetland preserves

To strangle first intent.

10/25/10 hbm

Monday Night Haiku

When it all wears off

I pray the decision stands

Some measure of peace

Hang on.

Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever, he said.

You might want to think about that. You forget some things, don’t you?

Yes. You forget what you want to remember and you remember what you want to forget.

-- Cormac McCarthy, The Road

"God's Eyes" - The Wild Deer (5/22)

Acoustic show at The Living Room, 5/22/10

website

Movie Review Haiku

Alice in Wonderland

Richly bittersweet.
Performance commitment with
Tim’s maturation.

***1/2 stars (out of 5)

Movie Review Haiku

Bronson

The Sociopath

delightful and terrible

seeks his audience

***** (a perfect film)
trailer

clickable trivium

Look Who's Coming To Seder!

It's the Passover Season, and it's time for gefilte fish in clear jelly, things unleavened, and... Popopo Candy? It seems there's some new guests following Elijah in the door. Better tell Aunt Shelia to bring that extra bridge table...

Lost Jewish tribe 'found in Zimbabwe'

Welcome, new friends! Let me show you a bit about a New York Passover...
Mensher-Style.

Paper vs. Computer.

Writing, to me, is something magical. Where do the words come from - placed one after the other, to form coherent (sometimes) ideas meant to move me (and subsequently, others)?

When writing for real, I always compare it to spelunking: diving down deep to my reservoir of words and thoughts to see what I can retrieve. I am of the belief that if I dive far enough (and am left alone), I can get the good stuff.

It's like Pearl Diving.

And it's just as dangerous*.

So it's a question of Muse. And it got me thinking.

What is the best way to get deep:

Pad & Paper, or Keyboard & Computer?

The easy answer is "whatever works". But that's too vague.

There is something visceral about using a Pen and sheet of Paper. Something analog that speaks to me in a "rubbing two sticks together to make fire" kind of way. It adds to the illusion of Magical Process, and whatever adds to that illusion builds on that illusion, and (may) produce better (deeper) work.

Alternately, at 70, writer Charles Bukowski started using a Mac that his wife gave him for Christmas --

"There is something about seeing your words on a screen before you that makes you send the word with a better bite, sighted in closer to the target. I know a computer can't make a writer but I think it makes a writer better. Simplicity in writing and simplicity in getting it down, hot and real. When this computer is in the shop and I go back to the electric, it's like trying to break rock with a hammer. Of course, the essence of writing is there but you have to wait on it, it doesn't leap from the gut as quickly, you begin to trail your thoughts -- your thoughts are ahead of your fingers which are trying to catch up. It causes a block of sorts indeed."

My own personal process has moved from Pen & Paper to Post-it's and Computer. But I'm torn enough to write this post, hoping that by the last word I type I'll have the answer.

*Sometimes I don't want to come back up for air. It's cozy down here.

Well.

Surreal Saturdays...

Saturdays sometimes feel surreal to me now.
Memories of a past life when responsibilities seemed fewer.
Worries a different, less opaque shade.

And so, safe save surreal sights:

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