(With a nod to Liz)

I think my tolerance for people in general is dwindling as the year goes on. I had for a duration of several seconds attempted to make an illustrative and humourous graph that showed, in line-graph form, the steady descent of my mood from September of last year through an interpolated April of 2005, including such hilarious values as “Troglodytic,” “Holocaustic,” and “Shut up, or I’ll punch you in the fuck.” For some reason, neither OOo Calc nor M$ Excel recognised those phrases as values on a line graph, and I don’t have the patience to make one by hand, so you’ll just have to imagine how funny it was in my head.

As I said all through February, I hate the Academy Awards. It’s not so much that I think Million Dollar Baby or The Aviator are bad movies, or that it’s necessarily a bad thing that they one a lot of awards. It’s that I cannot respect an organization that fails to even nominate Paul Giamatti for Best Actor in a Lead Role. He as Miles in Sideways was one of the best performances I have seen…. ever. He carried that film (not to dismiss the other actors) on his mouth and eyebrows, and he’s left to stand behind Thomas Hayden Church and Virginia Madsen, feeling like a schmuck, when people should be heaping laud and honour upon him. The Academy Awards are a blatantly political event, no more free of bias and shady influence than Congress.

One more week until Spring Break…

§514 · February 28, 2005 · 4 comments ·

the star describes her apogee
with butterfat.
the constellations trace with vine
and dirt makes shapes that no one sees.
two hatpins dance a tango brief;
a matchhead gives a eulogy
before it bows to wax.
a branch begets a leaf, unhappily.

the morning to the wren is not bewèd
as on death the insects prey,
but wrens bewèd to song the robin,
and usher thus a sun
as pale as chardonnay.

a fruit bequeaths a seed to be a tree
which harvest reaps and lays to rest
in amniotic sleep.

there are gods inside a breeze,
who set the stalks and stems to dancing;
again the grain would hypotise
the butterflies,
whose wings make waves a world away,
which, waking it, realise
the synergies of simplicities,
multiplicative.

the font defines its flow
with lithium.
men drunk on liquid silver
cut their pointed teeth to slivers
on the edge of partial windowpanes;
in the ruin of their dentistry
creating snow in which to play,
in which the imprints of their feet remain;
their breathsmoke fades away.

Two together greet the sun
(defining thus the apogee),
and bind the incompletes to light.
They are such inseparably.

§415 · February 24, 2005 · 2 comments · Tags:

Ann Coulter’s column this week does nothing to dispell the notion that she’s a blithering idiot. Of course, she’s attacking Ward Churchill, who is something of a fish in a barrel, but she can’t even manage to do it right. Here’s what she says:

Tenure was supposed to create an atmosphere of open debate and inquiry, but instead has created havens for talentless cowards who want to be insulated from life.

Sounds a bit like TownHall (I know: cheap shot).

Even liberals don’t try to defend Churchill on grounds that he is Galileo pursuing an abstract search for the truth. They simply invoke “free speech,” like a deus ex machina to end all discussion.

We are? Most liberals I know of won’t casually condemn Churchill because he pressed a hot button, but neither are they clamoring to defend him, because, well, he is a bit of a prick. Coulter seems to imply that he should be fired as the university’s ethnic studies chair simply because he’s not a flag-waving patriot, or he holds ideas unpopular with the right. Did Americans deserve to die on 9/11? Short answer, no, although our myopia helped usher it in, and blinded us from the best course of action afterwards. But, Europeans and Americans, over the centuries, have contributed to the deaths of countless Arabs. That’s not a defense, just a statement.

In fact, the Constitution says nothing about state governments firing employees for their speech: The First Amendment clearly says, “Congress shall make no law … abridging the freedom of speech.” Firing Ward Churchill is a pseudo-problem caused by modern constitutional law, which willy-nilly applies the Bill of Rights to the states – including the one amendment that clearly refers only to “Congress.” (Liberals love to go around blustering “‘no law’ means ‘no law’!” But apparently “Congress” doesn’t mean “Congress.”)

Technically, she’s right. Except, she’s not. Freedom of speech, being a fundamental right, has been reiterated in, I think, every state constitution, including Colorado’s:

Article II, section 10. Freedom of speech and press. No law shall be passed impairing the freedom of speech; every person shall be free to speak, write or publish whatever he will on any subject, being responsible for all abuse of that liberty; and in all suits and prosecutions for libel the truth thereof may be given in evidence, and the jury, under the direction of the court, shall determine the law and the fact.

Does Coulter even bother to read these things before she sends her tripe to press?

If a math professor’s “speech” consisted of insisting that 2 plus 2 equals 5, or an astrophysicist’s “speech” was to claim that the moon is made of Swiss cheese, or a history professor’s “speech” consisted of rants about the racial inferiority of the n——-s, each one of them could be fired by a state university without running afoul of the Constitution.

Because each one of those ideas in indefensible. Whereas Churchill’s, while perhaps tasteless and extreme, is at least founded upon a valid criticism.

[Churchill says that] Indian reservations are the equivalent of Nazi concentration camps.

I forgot Auschwitz had a casino.

Did…. did Ann Coulter just poo-poo the centuries of persecution that Native Americans received at the hands of European colonials? Because the tattered remains of once-rich cultures now operate casinos on the small plots of land they were herded into when the government took theirs, the widespread death, destruction, and disenfranchisement of the endemic cultures here in America don’t matter? I’m spellbounded. This is possible even worse than calling Democrats racists.

§511 · February 21, 2005 · 1 comment · Tags: ,

The kingdom’s frame of wire falls
like houses ushered into night,
quaking deep within their walls.
A drooping wreck of countenance
heaped upon the wreck of virtue
heaped upon the wreck of bliss,
machines all twisted wrung;
monoliths of wicked gods
thrown stark in rusting sun.

A silver Mt. Zion homeward calls,
a weeping lesion’s balm;
heaven—cast still in umber light—
is lined by bone and bolt
and heaped upon the wreck of form
and draped across a shape of stone;
the ghosts of want writ large
across its looming dome.

Bare lines make wild the hearts of men,
who break the bleak expanse with groans
and sagging towers, burning vistas.
Shackles of inconsequence shatter
where strides the Behemoth; its
exalting bellowed call
crosses our constructions,
Monuments all.

§506 · February 16, 2005 · 2 comments · Tags:

Flex

I’ve grudgingly agreed to go with Allison to the local Gold’s gym today. She recently became a member, and I have free access through my university. Which is all good and fine, except exercise and I don’t get along very well. I have tried on various occasions over the past year or two to begin some sort of regimen, be it lifting weights on the set in our basement or just doing pushups in my room. As it is with most lazy, easily-distracted people, it never seems to last for long. My previous plan, that of pushups every night before bed, actually continued long enough for me to notice results: not instantly bulging musculature, but a slight hardening of the arms, shoulders and chest. You have to imagine a 6’6″ man, 150lbs, with a frame like a paperclip, whose most strenuous activity during the day is getting out of bed. It’s a sad, pitiful existence, but one that has suited me well enough so far, at least insofar as getting out of bed, driving to work, and sitting most of the day.

I’m not so dumb that I remain unaware of the health risks posed by my extremely self-destructive lethargy. I know I need a better diet (one that involves produce, for instance, and not things out of boxes and cans), and I need to gain some muscle, and give my heart something to do. It might increase my circulation so I don’t brown out when I stand up too quickly. I know this, see, but I’m a poor inertiatic struggling against gravity.

Mostly, I picture myself at Gold’s, in whatever dorky shorts I find, a flailing, cartoonish figure short of breath just from climbing onto the equipment (You may think this is an exaggeration. You would be wrong, at least if it has more than a couple of stairs). I and the other flabby or atrophied creatures writhing around in exercise-related agony will be ever-conscious of the slim, toned demigods around us, who have been coming here since time immemorial. It will stink of sweat and body odor, and our faces will alternate between contortions of disgust and contortions of pain, and we will think to ourselves, “We will work hard, we will get fit, and then we will stop coming here or regain our fondness for Bearclaws, and it will all go to pot.”

And then I will hopefully get my car back from the shop, because it also apparently has problems staying in shape.

§505 · February 15, 2005 · 2 comments ·