happy new year!
2019
i don't know
where we are going
or how we will get there
but i think it will be one bumpy & wild ride
remember that all of us
from those that hold the door open
to those that cut us off at the stoplight
suffer too
poetry/antipoetry & exploitation movies
happy new year!
this is the last sunday night of 2018. a little over 24 hours from now & we will be in the new year. 2019 sounds like science fiction. indeed, the action of blade runner [1982] is in 2019. so will the past be prologue for the future? is it not always? so instead of flying cars & replicants we shall all carry devices that plug us in to information, entertainment & news. these devices are connected to our vehicles. they are connected to our homes. they are connected to our innermost layers of our lives. instead of a 4 hr work week that was envisioned by a few futurologists, economists & the circa 1960s era animated sitcom the jetsons we have the gig economy [provided by that same device that connects us to almost nearly everything in our hyper socioeconomic societies] that forces many to work 60 - 80 + hr workweeks. so what will the new year bring us? more of the same, which means profound disruptions in our lives, for we are not done with our changes. these changes, whether it be social, economic, political & environmental, can be very scary. what to do? surely we can grab the horse by the reigns & ride as best we can. we can also remember life, as prince reminded us in his great song '1999', is a party. 'if i'm gonna die/i'll dance my life away.' as for me, i was promised the 21st C would bring flying cars & jet packs. i'm still waiting. 2019 is a sci fi kinda year. but in the meantime, let me go old skool. i'll celebrate the new year by unscrewing a bottle of cold duck, watching dick clark's rockin' new year's eve, & hope i have the gumption to face the bright clear morning of what will ultimately be just another ordinary new year's day.
anna & i binge watched the entire season of this show, Derry Girls, today. it is one of the smartest, funniest, & bravest shows on Netflix right now. that is the highest praise i know.
happy christmas
from the department of WTF
happy winter solstice
cooking classic poems with nathan & lexi
i fire up the laptop, turn on the TV & scroll the channels
it was late, i know, far too late for me to be up, listening to dark ambient scores on youtube, & having just one more beer. i was feeling good & calm. my house is an extension of my body. when i move thru it, even at this late of an hour, it feels like another limb. & yet, i got up to take a piss. the house felt normal, looked normal. i went from room to room making sure the lights were all off. i looked out the front window. i could hear the oceanic rush of the nearby freeway. whether it be one pm or one am there are always vehicles on that freeway. somehow, it is a comforting noise. but i've been ill. i have a cold. so for the last three nights i've made a pallet on the couch. i am usually the last person to go to bed in my house. i am by nature a night owl. normal bed times for me hover around the 2 to 3 am range. not so for work nights. but tonight, i have a cold. i have a sick day at work tomorrow. i am up listening to dark ambient scores & doing my best to exhaust myself so i can get to sleep. i wandered from room to room. my wife & son were in their rooms, asleep, with that wonderful reassurance of their deep breathing. i made another round about the house satisfied by all that was good in the universe. i entered the kitchen. i looked out the kitchen window. nothing but the dark stillness of the neighbor's house. i turned toward the front of house. my home that is as natural to my hand as my own thumbs. i saw a shape in the pallet i made for myself on the couch. the very place where i had taken my rest during the convalescence of something as mundane as a common cold. i stared hard. for this shape was familiar. it raised itself, briefly, in the brittle night. then it collapsed unto its makeshift pillows & blankets. i stirred. my heart was beating fiercely in my chest. for what could this apparition be. i moved toward the shape. it saw me. & stiffened too. together we did what any sentient being would do. we looked. it was me looking at me. rather it was him looking at him that was me. together with such fright we both fainted. when i awoke my house was just the same solid extension of my body. the shape in my pallet was me fully recombined toward a night's slumber. my phone was open & was playing, still, a dark ambient score, but the fellow creature who was not-me was no longer in my bed. i don't know if it was him or me that made these notes. really i don't know if that shape was the real me, or if the real me might be the one making these notes.
real genius [1985]
things seen while driving from monterey to sacramento