Posts tagged with quick-post
- fruits
- nuts
- brown rice
- oats
- granola bars
- green vegetables
- brocoli
- etc
- anything i want to eat today
watched first they came for my college today
watched First They Came for My College today. S is a fan of the filmmakers, so plus we’re from the area, so…
anyways: i loved so much the segments about josh, who comes in a young republican and leaves a normal dude. it’s very touching, more so than i want to sully by communicating, but i want to just take a second to note that specific kind of american loneliness that leads to guys like him, that anti-intellectual refusal to take ideas or “the life of the mind” as anything but utilitarian tools. you only matter if your useful, so on so on. so it’s nice to see him find people who care. a diva after all, as malcom x says, is the female version of a hustler
doctors questionnaire as poetic form
q: have you now or even smoked a cigarette?
q: drink: socially?
q: do you use recreational drugs?
q: any history of family wanderings?
q: have you had the procedure before?
q: net worth?
q: are you afraid?
q: did you do the proper preparation procedure? solid foods?
q: why do television commercials often show such anger at the requirements of the social world?
q: do you respond well to the procedure? will you now
(etc etc)
update
tomorrow i have a colonoscopy (don’t guess my age on this, you’re wrong) (don’t expect a post tomorrow, 50/50), and today i am on a liquid diet which sucks. i am hungry and in a bad mood :)
dragon quest x is available in english now, with a little finagling, on Steam deck. yes—yes—i read japanese alright, but i never played an MMO before. i have no clue what the hell’s going on with these systems
quote
L&J’s approach divides their readers into two categories. You can, like the authors, consider yourself among the departed, looking on these wooden characters with a gloating scorn. Or else you must be, like these characters, the object of that scorn. Either way, there’s little room for the empathy necessary to make such stories truly frightening. --- blog post about the Left Behind series of book, contemporary to them
there is a nihilism in denying the existence of the Other, huh. this world is very narrow, all outside of it is naught
(i was afraid of these books as a child, despite what the quote there says. i was too young to know, even, that i, as a catholic, would be among the targets of its scorn. maybe, then, i knew if it was true i should be scared)
lists
Foods that contain fiber
oops
almost forgot to post!
revision tip for writers: read your stories out t loud in stupid accents! you’ll notice more about how the language works by speaking it aloud in a way different from your habit! you will feel silly as hell but maybe many strongly improved line edits!
this is not a joke!
Gods, to their eternal chagrin, are comic.
my gloss on it, from yesterdays post:
a wonderful simple sentence holding two ideas at once: the gods are better than us, unable to experience tragedy as we do, but that in that greatness there’s a loss. there’s something to be said for feeling bad. it ain’t nothing to be laughed at
Anne Carson on the gods
In an intro to Euripides, in a parenthetical, Anne Carson says:
Gods, to their eternal chagrin, are comic.
In place of a full post today, I implore you to think on that. Maybe I will say a piece tomorrow.
Strange Overtones 2
TODO: link old post, add song
still thinking of my potentially imagined version of Strange Overtones. i made a quick sketch of it, to imitate the vocal styles. below:
submissions
i write novellas now. it’s all in attempt, i think, to write more novelistically, to pretend i’m maturing from short stories, though of course that’s not the case. but i write with such compression, in attempt to recreate alienation, getting word counts up is hard, not without getting fragmented and ballooning counts of characters
anyways: submitting novellas for publication feels difficult, begging people to look over things they don’t want. novellas don’t sell is the wisdom (then again: short stories is the same). it feels extra bothersome, or hopeless, or something similiar
still: sent one in today, Scott and Bianca. then i revise American Desert for what’s next. hobbyist writing means, i think, creating fantasies you think will die
Strange Overtones
been listening, all day, to David Byrne’s Strange Overtones. it’s beautiful. i, too, sometimes hear things through walls
but… BUT: i’ve known this song, for the longest time, for a cover or alternate version i can’t place for the life of me. it’s no longer upbeat but rather morose, sentimental, wistful, Ahnoni and the Johnson’s style. it has a sense of loss. and i cannot find it. i dont know who it’s by, i don’t know when it’s from, I can only hum and feel it, or listen to the original and imagine what I know exists there somewhere, or if doesn’t exist now should still somewhere
or maybe it was put-upon painful, a la xiu xiu
i am dreaming
of course the story means, the question’s what’s it mean specifically
this is about I Found Evidence Of My House Spinning | U&U Forums (LibreCrawl archive 2026-09-03)
the story’s of course spreading a bit (or so i hope or so i imagine), and the twists a pretty open secret also (if you don’t know it, don’t read on), so i just wanna look at how the twist functions, huh
recontextualization, yeah, we get it, but i love the way that’s already what the story is before the context gets put in. it’s a paranormal story from the start, and what’s a paranormal story if not a desperate search for context. it’s like detective stories, but more open-ended: not so much who-done-it what-is-it-that’s-done: the evidence is all there, what could it mean, what does it mean of the unknowable world?
anyways i’m incredibly charmed by the nature of the recontextualization: it’s emotional. why understand the world? for others
nice
what do you do when you have trouble sleeping?
i’ve rarely had full on, sustained insomnia, but ever since college, maybe once a month, i’ll have a terrible night of sleep. it’s trouble instantiating sleep, for all my insomnia enthusiasts out there, and so i’m often very conscious, aware the whole time
i never know what to do
at best, i’ll read. i love to read. strong memories of books i’ve read late: the metamorphosis with a cat on my girlfriends floor, george perec curled on a futon under half light and humming of an air conditioning, librivox recordings of greek dramas sometimes, as though amateurish retellings of child murder might help me drift off. always important: laying or sitting in some position uncomfortable. half-wakefulness is dull like a pin through felt then skin, so ya gotta exaggerate all the sensations
tonight: a blog. legs up on the back side of the couch, eyes dry, i present an image of myself into the world
Making Obsidian my CMS
I am so slow at updating, so lax in this blog. I have even stopped posting translations, though some are done, wasting away on my harddrive right now. (apologies to my mostly imagined audience)
why? cause this is a static site, so i have to work to post things. sucks
instead: i’m copying my whole-ass blog into obsidian, which i use on my phone
daily posts?
daily posts
perhaps