The Original Blog

My muse is out to lunch.  Or maybe on vacation.  There's always the sabbatical idea, which I like, cause maybe then she'll come back re-charged and energized and ready to inspire to new and great heights.  Whatever the reason, I hope she hurries her little self back.  Because I've got nothing these days, friends and neighbors.  Nothing.  Like gas stations.  Like answers by the politicians to our mounting problems.  Nothing. Course, I could post my thoughts on the economic crisis.  But that's boring.  All we hear all day long is a bunch of partisan ideas and complaints and solutions.  Blah, blah, blah.  Could it be that this great empire is falling.  I mean, we all took history.  We all learned about the great ones falling.  They all did.  Is it our time?  Scary thoughts, huh kids? Could talk about college football.  UNC is looking good.  Butch has us pointed in the right direction.  Give the man another year and I think we'll be on the national stage.  And that'...

Perfect song for the scene...

Probably my favorite example of a song absolutely nailing a scene.  Absolutely amazing...

"Interpersonal issues that were overwhelming yesterday now seem more manageable. If someone wants to talk with you today, don't let the opportunity pass, for you should be able to speak with great ease about sensitive topics. Remember, the point isn't to convince anyone that you are right; it's just about sharing your heart and listening with an open mind." Well that's a relief.  There actually was a topic that I broached yesterday with someone but didn't get to finish.  But the planets tell me that today's the day to tie things up.  Thank goodness.  I was sweating it.  But, man do I love it when the planets come to the rescue and make everything all better......

It appears that I've somehow linked my blog with Face Book so that my posts appear of my profile page.  An interesting twist if in fact that's the case.  So this is a test to see if that is true. WCPE is playing the entire "Nutcracker" by Tchaikovsky.  My favorite.  I only listen to it during the month of December (and of course if and when WCPE plays it).  So today is a treat.  I also save Vince Gauraldi's "Charlie Brown Christmas" for the month of December.  Unfortunately, every retail store in America likes to rape Charlie Brown for the 3.5 months of Christmas season.  Poor guy.  And that being said, I suppose since football season has started, we'll probably start hearing Christmas music any day now.  Guess I should probably go get my tree........

I've been wanting to write a post lately about this whole "Face Book" and "My  Space" thing.  The posting I had in mind wasn't going to be pretty.  Sort of on the same lines as my views on cell phones.  But I got an email from my buddy Gavin saying I should get on Face Book.  So I did.  After all, Gavin is rarely wrong.  Almost prophetic in a way.   Yeah, so got onto Face Book last night.  So far so good.  Already found some people I have wanted to get in touch with.  Found some others I never expected to hear from ever again.  So gotta say that its pretty cool to hopefully reconnect with some of these people. And I was trying to put some content on my home page thingy.  But of course, I'm rather hungover this morning and my brain is just not firing very well. Nap.  Must nap.  Need some more sleep...... 

David Foster Wallace, Influential Writer, Dies at 46 By BRUCE WEBER Published: September 14, 2008 David Foster Wallace, whose prodigiously observant, exuberantly plotted, grammatically and etymologically challenging, philosophically probing and culturally hyper-contemporary novels, stories and essays made him an heir to modern virtuosos like Thomas Pynchon and Don DeLillo, an experimental contemporary of William T. Vollmann, Mark Leyner and Nicholson Baker and a clear influence on younger tour-de-force stylists like Dave Eggers and Jonathan Safran Foer, died on Friday at his home in Claremont, Calif. He was 46. Mr. Wallace was an apparent suicide. A spokeswoman for the Claremont police said Mr. Wallace’s wife, Karen Green, returned home to find that her husband had hanged himself. Mr. Wallace’s father, James Donald Wallace, said in an interview on Sunday that his son had been severely depressed for a number of months. A versatile writer of seemingly bottomless energy, Mr. Wallace was a...

Just found out that one of the great ones has died: David Foster Wallace.  I read "Infinite Jest" a few months back and loved it.  So I am going to cut and paste and article that I just read about him...... David Foster Wallace, R.I.P. I was about to go to bed when I read the terribly sad news that novelist/essayist David Foster Wallace was found dead in his California home at age 46 after apparently hanging himself. He was married and had been teaching English and creative writing at Pomona College in Claremont. I profiled him for the Tribune back in early 1996 when his brilliant, prescient 1,000-plus-page novel "Infinite Jest" was being hailed as a masterwork. Wallace, who was born and raised in Urbana, was teaching at Illinois State University in Normal at the time and was wary of what all of the acclaim might do to him. He told me that after his first burst of fame that followed the publication of his debut novel, "The Broom of the System" (1987), and ...

"All you need is love today, and you have an excellent shot at receiving what you want. Unfortunately, a pleasant day or two won't necessarily cement a long-term relationship, but it still might be a sensual surprise that you remember for a long time to come. Don't push your luck; it's crucial that you know when to stop." So it looks like I'm in for a pretty good day.  I guess I just have to sit back and let the magic happen.  I mean, who am I to argue with the planets?

Standing on the waters casting your bread While the eyes of the idol with the iron head are glowing. Distant ships sailing into the mist, You were born with a snake in both of your fists while a hurricane was blowing. Freedom just around the corner for you But with the truth so far off, what good will it do? Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune, Bird fly high by the light of the moon, Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman. So swiftly the sun sets in the sky, You rise up and say goodbye to no one. Fools rush in where angels fear to tread, Both of their futures, so full of dread, you don't show one. Shedding off one more layer of skin, Keeping one step ahead of the persecutor within. Jokerman dance to the nightingale tune, Bird fly high by the light of the moon, Oh, oh, oh, Jokerman. You're a man of the mountains, you can walk on the clouds, Manipulator of crowds, you're a dream twister. You're going to Sodom and Gomorrah But what do you care? Ain't nobody there would want to marry ...

I love this scene! I've already posted it to my blog, but it needs to show up once in awhile. Check it out.......

Two and a half weeks and nothing.  That's a pretty drastic turn from texts every day.  Is is safe to say that you are gone forever?  I'd hate to think that is the case, but all signs are pointing to "yes."  And there isn't much I can do.  My hands are tied.  It was said that there would be new numbers.  Preventative measures taken.  Barriers.  All means used to prevent communication.  Looks like ti worked.  Especially from my end.  I have nothing I can do.  You, on the other hand, I would think have options.  Maybe limited ones, but still some options.  I mean, I'm here.  Nothing changes on my end.  No one sneaking around and checking to see who I'm talking to.  I have the ability to receive and respond to texts at any time.  And yet, not a one.  That's pretty cold.  Pretty fucking cold.  To be thrown away so quickly.  So effortlessly. Life goes on, though.  Right?  And so I'll just pick myself up.  Dust myself off.  And get back into the game.  Do...

The other blog that I like to read was talking about the season premiere's of certain shows.  Ouch! Don't worry about me EVER writing about some stupid TV show premiere.  I spent some time on Sunday doing my laundry at my folks house.  Its pretty much become the my weekly visit/laundry day on Sunday.  And I usually get in my weekly dose of TV on Sunday.  And let me tell you, that each week I'm left with a serious loathing for that damn box.  I mean, I sit there flipping the damn channels looking for something worthwhile to watch.  And there isn't a damn thing on. But at least football season has started.  So now I have much more to read on my sports pages.  I won't be seeing too many of the games, what with no TV and all.  But I read about them.  And the Heels won on Saturday, so things are pretty good....