Friday, December 10, 2004

Greensboro, NC: When John Lennon Was Killed

On the anniversary of John Lennon's tragic murder, we reflect on Greensboro: December 1980. The "Greensboro Massacre" is just one year old.
Lennon Era Comes to an end as the Reagan Era is born

On December 8, 1980 John Lennon died, killed by the bullet of a madman. It was the year Ronald Reagan became President of the United States. Hard to say which event brought more grief...
With the election of Reagan, suddenly there was a whole new breed of hominid strutting about, cocks-of-the-walk, in alligator shirts, lime slacks, hingeheads. The square was back, the 50s were once again upon us. And the hip world went back underground.

I was living in a house on Friendly Avenue right next to the greenway with David Grogan and Chuck Newman, and dating Lucy of Charlotte. She was talking classes at the university, whereas I was only auditing classes. Buddhism, Ballet and the Electronics Music lab. I was also helping Bil (sic) Poole entertain dance classes by playing piano, and occasionally other instruments. I can think of worse jobs.

Greensboro was a hub of creative and intellectual activity, just as it is now, only now it is centered around the illustrious embarrassment of riches, in the form of bloggers. And a good number of the remarkables were students and teachers at UNC-Greensboro, formerly a women's college. The predominance of women in the University area provided the proverbial seedbed for creative activity, and, as in all times when the world turns upside-down and mediocrity is given its turn, the creatives and progressives find one another and pour their suffering into more creative outlets.

John Jones was arguably the best host for serious gatherings. There, he and his friend, Maria Robbins, would host parties for Grogan, Newman, Lucy, Dayna, Chance, Eric, Jonathan Franzel, Fred and Stan, John Pope, and a few other worthies. John would cook up a mahvelous meal in his wok, and allow us to dig through his wondrous library of books and music. John got me up to speed on Brian Eno's "Oblique Strategies cards" in a van trip to Atlanta to see Genesis at the Fox Theatre, and his music was along that line of European avant-garde eclecticism, although he did have Americans Steve Reich and Phillip Glass among his collection. Everyone had the great Nonesuch offerings. Bil Poole was also an audiophile, and yet his collection was more heavily leaning toward the jazz side of the ECM label, where one could find folks like Jan Garbarek, Eberhard Weber , Egberto Gismonti, and even George I. Gurdjieff, who really wasn't all that jazzy. Speaking of Gurdjieff, Eric (I forget his last name) was reading Gurdjieff's "Beelzebub" at my prodding, and even read it the requisite 3 times. We were all probably a little to young and inexperienced to get much out of it, but it was a moment. What can I say?

I sat in on Paul Courtwright's Buddhism class, who, one day, packed into cars and drove to Duke University where Edward Said was speaking on Orientalism, after which Paul treated us to dinner at an Indian restaurant, where he taught us the proper form. It was my chance to see the beautiful Duke University, or Mister Said, who sadly died last year. And sadly, some in our circle have since died, namely John Pope and Fred. May their memories live on...

At night, we could often be found on Tate Street, at Rosewaters, New York Pizza, or Aycock...where such great performances as the Beijing Opera would play. Tashi, a wondrous ensemble with Ida Kafavian, Peter Serkin, Fred Sherry and Richard Stoltzman, came that year, and I can still hear the final strains of Messiaen's "Quartet for the End of Time" playing in my head. Local favorites were F-Art Ensemble and Glenn Phillips.

One of the fellers, and Lord help me with his name, started up a film class, which showed, among other things Bergman's "Persona", Renoir's "The Grand Illusion" and the avant-garde works of Stan VanDerBeek...who came and gave a talk.

While all this creative activity was going on, there were also seminars and discussions on the KKK-Communist "Greensboro Massacre", which has happened in Greensboro the previous year...strangely. Around the University one could hadly image even a fistfight. Rocky Horror, RocknRoll High School and the Life of Brian were more on the minds than violence.

It was a heady time. It was also the year that I found a big colorful oak tree on the campus, plopped down one fall day and read the whole of the Bhagavad-Gita. A day my life changed. Just like when Lennon died.

The morning John Lennon died, I was awakened to a decidedly 9/8 rhythm pattern, with which I immediately fell in love. Chuck was playing Dave Brubeck's "Blue Rondo a la Turk", and it was my first taste of 9/8. So my day started off with a musical theme. By nightfall music would have a very different role. It will die.

And so, as I painted the bare walls of my little room on Friendly Avenue, lost in reverie, smelling the curry onion eggs Grogan was cooking up, I heard the words come out over the radio..."John Lennon has been shot". And with news of his death, spontaneously, people gathered for a candlelight vigil at the University.

The Reagan era had begun. The Peacenik-in-chief had been silenced. No more giving peace a chance, it was a time for greed and mediocrity and John Wayne.

Within months I would pack my backs and move up to Cambridge, where a lot of other folks also found refuge from the brutal Godzilla.

Greensboro Today

Those days in Greensboro are still among my favorite, and I am so happy to once again connect to the city, through such creative souls as Ed Cone, David ("Get outta here!) Hoggard, Matt Gross and Billy the Blogging Poet, as well as the other great bloggers working there, including Ruby Sinreich, Dan Romuald, Jay Ovittore, Ross Myers, Tara Sue, and many other great folks.

I often wonder if any of the old gang of '80 and the bloggers of '04 know one another, as I know they would find kindred spirits. Or if any of the bloggers remember any of the events I have described. If so...please comment profusely!

Lastly, in today's Charlotte Observer, I wrote a graf on Greensboro and the blogosphere, which went like this:

View from blogosphere: Charlotte behind curve
Blogs are the cutting edge of democracy, giving everyone with access to a computer the ability to publish, free of charge and without space restrictions. "Blog" was also the most popular new word this year and is now to be found in major dictionaries.Greensboro and the Triangle seem to have a better grasp of blogging's importance than we do in Charlotte -- hosting conferences and tying in with newspapers and universities.
The Observer might do well to team up with local bloggers in order to help empower the community with this important new skill. North Carolina has a strong presence in the blogosphere, but it can be made stronger still. The best way to predict the future is to create it.
-Dave Beckwith


Please also feel free to comment to the Observer about your own observations...

"Nightmare 9" from anonyMoses' POWWOWIRAQSI now available for free download




"Nightmare 9" is the soundtrack of a nightmare in Iraq.

I hosted it at a different server, located HERE. The other songs are located here. "Nightmare 9" pays tribute to "Revolution 9" by the Beatles and "Plan 9 from Outer Space". Hope you enjoy it. Great for headphones and freakouts!

Include your blog in the Blogrankings

Blogrankings is a new ranker of blogs. Get in early and rise!
(via Billy the blogging poet)

Thursday, December 09, 2004

In Praise of Bloggers

I love bloggers. Even red-spectrum bloggers are generally decent, reasonable people. And I must say that the blogosphere is a prana-rich and rarified gestalt, amid certain circuits at least, and to imagine being without the richness these blognoscenti provide is a loss too stupefying to witness, without Recalcitanto rearing his ugly head. So I shall thereby render it moot, mute, at least for The Time Bean.

But, as I consider how many bloggers I regard so warmly and highly, so to speak, if may be siebold, piebald, or dare I say it? Skewbald. There, I've said it. Well, these will just have to be taken in like syrup from a spoon, since all I know is shoot! I am with elation. And hope it's not mania. For every man in the land of the space of today knows that...you up one, you up the udder. And bad cream always races to the gulley...which, of course, makes me think of Tristan Tzara and perhaps even Andre (Bucky) Breton. Something about automatic writing. Cloaca of Consciousness. Martha Loofah & the Farty Feces. But that doesn't belie the source.

And as there is nothing more important than ending your paragraphs with meaningless non-sequitors, let it also be said that bloggers, rascals though they be, are, ARE, the steak of the ark. The wind-blown zephyrs of Truth. The eye of the potatoe. I mean "e".

In shorts, I want to hereby launch a new series, entitled "In praise of bloggers", with a special eye out for those bloggers that are destined to become future winners of the Nobel Peace Prize. I will have to drag out my prophet beanie.

Telltale Tail : The Long Tail wags ever harder

Forget squeezing millions from a few megahits at the top of the charts. The future of entertainment is in the millions of niche markets at the shallow end of the bitstream.

(Via Ed Cone who says: "In this environment, blogs are the long tail and the N&R may be emerging as one of the players in the fat part of the curve. ")

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Download anonyMoses' new MP3, "Iraqalypse"



DOWNLOADABLE MP3
Anonymoses Music website



Can You Taste The Tears?

This is not the heartbeat of the Earth.
Can you hear the fear, can you taste the tears?
Can you smell the blood, can you touch the wounds?
This is the adrenalin rush of mankind at war with itself...
The death throws of a failed experiment.
Hope and despair living in the same body at the same time...
an impossible taskthat must be altered.
Otherwise, there will be merciful silence for the Earth in the end
and...no more children to build a future for.

~ Patty Ann Smith / Hope4America

Here is a wonderful new song of Patty's called:
"Before he went to War".

(Thanks, Patty! You never cease to amaze...)




The anonyMoses Open Window Dump

This is where anonyMoses, tiring of all the open windows he has accumulated which he wants to get back to but fears he hasn't the time or energy, transmogrifies the open windows (which are really closed) into links which he then transports onto the space below...


WHISTLEBLOWER AFFIDAVIT: Programmer Built Vote Rigging Prototype at Republican Congressman's Request!
CLAIM: Rep. Tom Feeney (R-FL) Asked Company to Create E-Vote Fraud Software!


More on the same subject from Blue Lemur

The 'blog' revolution sweeps across China

Progressive Society Blog archives





Support System of Blogpolitics: The Evolution of Cooperation

Read about the "Support System of Blogpolitics: The Evolution of Cooperation" as well as my column on "Pearl Harbor, 911: They were expendable" at The American Street.

Thanks!

David Beckham fathers Jesus, hosts wise guys


David, Victoria and Jesus Beckham with friends and hangers on.

Melchior, Balthazar and Gaspar they are not, but that didn't stop Bush, Blair and the Duke of Edinburgh from crashing the Beckhams' "Shiny Happy People Party" -- which itself is catching on may soon be a major political force in the Theopolitical yuga to which we seem forever roodly hung upon.

Sunday, December 05, 2004

Joyce's use of the word, "blog" in Finnegans Wake

James Joyce's "Finnegans Wake" has been credited for being a seedbase for the concept of hyperlinking, and thus the World Wide Web, but now we see that Joyce also talked of the blog. Well, sort of. This is a passage:

Finnegans Wake: Page 504
Part:3 Episode:14 Page:504

-- Booms of bombs and heavy rethudders?
-- This aim to you!
-- The tail, so mastrodantic, as you tell it nearly takes your
own mummouth's breath away. Your troppers are so unrelieved
because his troopers were in difficulties. Still let stultitiam done
in veino condone ineptias made of veritues. How many were
married on that top of all strapping mornings, after the midnight
turkay drive, my good watcher?
-- Puppaps. That'd be telling. With a hoh frohim and heh
fraher. But, as regards to Tammy Thornycraft, Idefyne the lawn
mare and the laney moweress and all the prentisses of wildes to
massage him.
-- Now from Gunner Shotland to Guinness Scenography.
Come to the ballay at the Tailors' Hall. We mean to be mellay on
the Mailers' Mall. And leap, rink and make follay till the Gaelers'
Gall. Awake ! Come, a wake ! Every old skin in the leather world,
infect the whole stock company of the old house of the Leaking
Barrel, was thomistically drunk, two by two, lairking o' tootlers
with tombours a'beggars, the blog and turfs and the brandywine
bankrompers, trou Normend fashion, I have been told down to
the bank lean clorks? Some nasty blunt clubs were being operated
after the tradition of a wellesleyan bottle riot act and a few plates
were being shied about and tumblers bearing traces of fresh
porter rolling around, independent of that, for the ehren of Fyn's
Insul, and then followed that wapping breakfast at the Heaven
and Covenant, with Rodey O'echolowing how his breadcost on
the voters would be a comeback for e'er a one, like the
depredations of Scandalknivery, in and on usedtowobble sloops off
cloasts, eh? Would that be a talltale too? This was the grandsire
Orther. This was his innwhite horse. Sip?


And at the beginning of one of the most famous passages of the book, we see:

Part:1 Episode:6 Page:168
Shem is as short for Shemus as Jem is joky for Jacob. A fewtoughnecks are still getatable who pretend that aboriginally hewas of respectable stemming (he was an outlex between the linesof Ragonar Blaubarb ant Horrild Hairwire and an inlaw to Capt.the Hon. and Rev. Mr Bbyrdwood de Trop Blogg was amonghis most distant connections) but every honest to goodness manin the land of the space of today knows that his back life willnot stand being written about in black and white. Putting truthand untruth together a shot may be made at what this hybridactually was like to look at.

More like blogger with the "-er" missing, but there nonetheless.

In his book, "The Media Trade"...

Tofts manages to set out in twenty pages why Finnegans Wake - the first literary text in which tv plays an important role - is the central text for the digital age. He shapes this conclusion, which is shared by Donald Theall and Marshall McLuhan, with the help of the usual suspects, like Deleuze and Derrida.
Finnegans Wake: the original media theory book, the moment at which print literacy converges with electronic digitization. The method of Finnegans Wake offers a hint of the ecology of meaning which will characterise the digital age, a glimpse ahead. It embodies the new ecology of sense implicit in the electronic, immersive experience of telematic cspace (Tofts’ 'metasignifier', in my opinion superfluous, which stands for 'cyberspace' as well as for 'space'), it is central to the aesthetics of the computer age.
MORE


His use of the word, "Anonymoses" is noted:


Part:1 Episode:2 Page:47
He ought to blush for himself, the old hayheaded philosopher,
For to go and shove himself that way on top of her.
Begob, he's the crux of the catalogue
Of our antediluvial zoo,
(Chorus) Messrs. Billing and Coo.
Noah's larks, good as noo.

He was joulting by Wellinton's monument
Our rotorious hippopopotamuns
When some bugger let down the backtrap of the omnibus
And he caught his death of fusiliers,
(Chorus) With his rent in his rears.
Give him six years.

'Tis sore pity for his innocent poor children
But look out for his missus legitimate!
When that frew gets a grip of old Earwicker
Won't there be earwigs on the green?
(Chorus) Big earwigs on the green,
The largest ever you seen.

Suffoclose! Shikespower! Seudodanto! Anonymoses!

Then we'll have a free trade Gaels' band and mass meeting
For to sod the brave son of Scandiknavery.
And we'll bury him down in Oxmanstown
Along with the devil and Danes,
(Chorus) With the deaf and dumb Danes,
And all their remains.

And not all the king's men nor his horses
Will resurrect his corpus
For there's no true spell in Connacht or hell
(bis) That's able to raise a Cain.


Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Sunday, November 28, 2004

You too can be a Pope!


This is not a pope.

THE STARK FIST OF REMOVAL
"It's even more relative than Einstein realized."

"Don't just eat a hamburger -- eat the HELL out of it."

I have simply got to meet Robert Anton Wilson. So Bob, if you're out there, pop on over!

Last night found me poring over one of the several books I have of his, namely "Coincidance", and flipped it open randomly, as his books are so pregnant with synchonicity triggers. I must have wakened the neighbors with my outbursts of laughter.

Well, thank God for the Internet! I have found the section from which I read, and I will excerpt a few passages...

The American Coffee Ceremony

The Javacrucians, a group which looks suspiciously like a parody of the Rosicrucians, has selected the less-controversial caffeine as its sacrament. It also has the simplest theology in history, teaching that one thing only is necessary for salvation, the American Coffee Ceremony -- a variation on the Japanese Tea Ceremony. This is performed at dawn, and you must face east, toward the rising sun, as you raise the cup to your lips. When you take the first sip, you must cry out with intense fervor, "GOD, I needed that!" If this is performed religiously every morning, Javacrucians say, you will face all life's challenges with a clear mind and a tranquil spirit.

SFMB -- the Society of Fred Mertz, Boddhisattva -- was founded by the Finnish-American poet, Antero Alli, and holds that all wisdom is contained in the seemingly inane remarks of Fred Mertz, a minor character of the "I Love Lucy" TV show. By watching "Lucy" reruns continually and meditating on the apparently banal things Fred says -- e.g., "I don't know what's going on around here" or "I don't understand women at all" -- this sect claims you will find the same Enlightenment as in contemplating Zen Buddhist koans such as "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" And just as in Zen, where students are often required to meditate on monosyllables such as "Mu" (no), the SFMB sect would have you meditate on such Mertziana as "Huh?" or "Awww!" until you sense what Joyce would call the epiphany in even the most trivial.


You Too Can Be A Pope

More serious, or at least more desperate, is the Discordian Society and/or Paratheo-Anametamystikhood of Eris Esoteric (POEE), an anarchistic sect divided deliberately into two opposed groups, each claiming to be (I quote) "the first True Religion." Like the witches, the Discordians worship a female divinity, but say She is crazy. Her name, in fact, is Eris, and the ancient Greeks knew her as the Goddess of Chaos; Discordians claim she is also the Goddess of Confusion, Discord, and Bureaucracy. The Discordian orthodoxy, headed by "Ho Chih Zen" (real name, Kerry Thornly), claims this was revealed by a miraculous talking chimpanzee, who appeared in a bowling alley in Yorba Linda, California, in 1957. The POEE sect flatly rejects this, says it is superstitious nonsense intended to attract the gullible, and proves the existence of Eris by Five Proofs, which are logical monstrosities and reduce actually to One Proof -- namely, "If Eris doesn't exist, who put all the Chaos in this universe, you damned atheist?"

Discordians have set out to out-Hensley Hensley by making every man, woman and child on the planet a Pope. They are doing this by mass-distribution of Pope cards and have not, of course, neglected to send one of these to the Anti-Pope in France and to the chap in the Vatican who still thinks he's the only Pope. All employees of the Pentagon are, willy-nilly, Discordian saints whether they want to be or not, since Malaclypse has canonized them and incorporated them into a holy order called "Knights Of The Five-Sided Castle," under the patronage of St. Quixote. The Pentagon itself is a religious shrine, said to embody the perfect balance of Chaos and Bureaucracy. Everybody who opposes Discordianism as blasphemous or absurd is an honorary saint too, of the House of the Rising Hodge, while Discordians are saints of the House of the Rising Podge.

Discordianism shuns dogma but has one catma, the Syadastan Affirmation, which reads, "All affirmations are true in some sense, false in some sense, meaningless in some sense, true and false in some sense, true and meaningless in some sense, false and meaningless in some sense, and true and false and meaningless in some sense." Discordians call this the Free Mantra -- unlike the Transcendental movement, they charge no fees -- and insist that if you repeat it 666 times you will achieve Spiritual Enlightenment, in some sense.

The Order of the Golden Calf had a brief career but now seems defunct. The members, who all lived in Berkeley, California, had a magnificent gold (or imitation gold) statue of a calf and carried it around to places where other sects were proselytizing on the streets. There they would do an Adoration of the Calf, distribute leaflets describing their idol as "the first victim of monotheistic bigotry," and urge everybody else to "lighten up your act a little."

The John Dillinger Died For You Society, run by a pseudonymous "Dr. Horace Naismith" (allegedly a Playboy editor by day and a maniac only by night), accepts as its savior John Dillinger, the gunman who robbed 23 banks and three police stations before he was shot dead by FBI agents in 1934. JDDFYS members place memorial wreaths and floral bouquets at the Biograph Theater, where Dillinger was gunned down, every year on the anniversary of his death, June 22. Their major spiritual teaching comes from Mr. Dillinger, whom they call St. John the Martyr, and consists of the words,
"Lie down on the floor and keep calm."


Power! Sex! Success! Money!

I have saved the best -- or worst -- for last. The Church of the Sub-Genius in Dallas has borrowed a bit from all of the above, and from every other religion on the planet, uses high-powered advertising techniques in the style of the most aggressive Christian Evangelists, and promises in capitals to teach you the secret of POWER! and SEX! and SUCCESS! and MONEY! It will also put you in touch with SUPERHUMAN FORCES, save you from THE CONSPIRACY, and even show you how to achieve SLACK and literally get something for nothing. That is admittedly a tall order, but the founder, J.R. "Bob" Dobbs, is no ordinary mortal. In fact, it is far from clear whether anybody has actually ever seen "Bob" at all, at all, and Sub-Genius advertising darkly hints that before an ordinary human can survive a meeting with "Bob" it is necessary to go to Dobbstown, located somewhere in South America, and have special surgery to "open the third nostril." Even then, it is warned, you might come back from such a Close Encounter with inflamed eyes, headache, total or partial amnesia, and other stigmata of UFO contactees, and you will probably be harassed by agents of THE CONSPIRACY who will appear at your door pretending to be Jehovah's Witnesses and try to get inside to brainwash you.
...
I think I have found the Secret of Power. It is in one of the cheaper Sub-Genius publications More Quotes and Gloats from "Bob" and it reads, "You know how dumb the average guy is? Well, by definition, half of them are even dumber than that." Then again, it might be in other gems of Dobbsiana such as "Don't just eat a hamburger -- eat the HELL out of it," or "Fuck them if they can't take a joke," or maybe even the Dark Saying, "GOD spelled backwards is DOG, but BOB spelled backwards is still BOB."

...as "Bob" sums it up elsewhere, "Hell, it's even more relative than Einstein realized."

The Fred Society

The Fred Society
...preserving and upholding the honorable name of Fred for all posterity.

"Sometimes private jokes are the best." - Baruch the Scribe


Tom Priest Cartoons

Saturday, November 27, 2004

ABC and the Alphabet

Rocky Mountain News: Columnists

Watch this:

_ISNE_

Fill in the blanks.
DISNEY
EISNER

The folks at ABC are obsessed with the alphabet. They make decisions by guaging it's alphabetic significance.

And now we find them playing this game:

K-vowel-consonant-same consonant-E-L

Yes, ABC is now talking about replacing...
KOPPEL with
KIMMEL.

You learn your ABCs in kindergarten. Then you move up.
Not down.

To trade Ted Koppel with Jimmy Kimmel is a move down.
Not to mention suicide.



Songs of Innocence and Experience

EdCone.com

Ed Cone give a tender and moving portrayal of innocence and experience, over at his blog today. The DVD of his family trip to Jamiaca when Ed was only 9, and probably Eddie, or Edward, brought back memories of innocent joy. And yet for Ed's mother, who could see the wider view of experience, but who may have lost some of the magic of innocence, saw it as a horrible time, as her husband, Ed's dear father, would soon meet an untimely death.

We are reminded of Blake's "Songs of Innocence and Experience", where he talks of the same things, only at one time, from the eye of innocence, and another, from the eye of experience. Both have their validities, and both their blind spots.

I am also reminded, when thinking of Ed, and the tender moments he shares with his readers, of a chapter in a book by Chogyam Trungpa called "The Tender Heart of Sadness". Many people want to avoid sadness, some even "at all costs". But sadness is one of the most beautiful experiences one can have while alive. The tenderness, the rawness...is immersion in Life.
And as Kundera, and others, have witnessed: No sadness, no joy. Sadness is form, Joy, content. Joy fills the empty space hollowed out by the depths of your sadness.

Dostoevsky is supposed to have said: "Suffering is the sole origin of consciousness." Is this why Gautama, Siddhartha changed so radically when first lighting upon an unclean and miserable "forgotten man"?

We, at Anonymoses, want to thank Ed for sharing the myriad colors and flavors of his life and experience. And invite those of you who may not know him or his work, to venture on over and introduce yourself.

Friday, November 26, 2004

On completing a novel in one month

by Anonymoses Hyperlincoln


Well, I actually did it. Finally. After decades of failed attempts. And if you didn't participate in this year's NaNoWriMo...mark your calendar for next November, and start preparing notes.
If you need to take some time off...do it. As claimed, it really is the beauty of the deadline...a lesson I learned to hate while working at a local newspaper, but one which I look back on fondly, when I think about my first novel, and how I crapped it out.

Some people go to school for years in order to get out and work on a a book that may or may not ever get done. Save the years. Take one month and focus your mind. It may suck, but you will know better what to do next time. And the next, and the next. YOU know you can do one every month. 12 a year. After a while, you get good at it. And by the time you have hit your 50th novel...you will be, if not good, at least prolific. But probably pretty good as well.

And it doesn't have to be in the form of a novel. I am planning on some children's books, non-fiction books, political books, and maybe even poetry. But I think I'll stick to the 50k word/month standard, as it also allows time to live life.

I fancy myself as being not only a Renaissance Man, but also a Pre-Cambrian Man.
Yes, I remember some of the lessons I learned prior to shipping off to Cambridge.
I am also Post-Apocalypic Man. Sadly I forgot where I was going with this so maybe I will discuss pie recipes.

But sadly I have no such knowledge either. I could make one up:

Penal Pie
(a favorite of the inmates)

1 cup butter
1 cup sugar
1 cup flour
2 broke eggs
1 egg with a few bucks
3 strands of saffron
a thimble of cumin
fresh ginger root
1 cup MD 20-20
1 cup of raisins
3 saltine crackers
1 ice cream sandwich
a Big Buddy

Shake well.
Bake.


So while that's cooking...

Where was I? Oh yes. I had just forgotten what I was going to say.
Well, the condition hasn't improved.

And writing a novel has wonderful effects on the mind, like, like, um, dammit it slipped away again!

I'll leave you with this instead:
Consider your blog posts to be novelfodder. Maybe your narrator is looking over your shoulder, or is your antagonist. You write anyway. Give it a second life.
Maybe it will reward you for your care and efforts.

Happy holidays friends!


A Thanksgiving Message from artist and friend, Tom Priest

Eat too much? Maybe next time you will consider THIS...

You can see more of Tom Priest at:
TomPriest.com

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

Anonymoses debuts on The American Street

First column called: "Feng Shui & Falluja"

I am excited to share with my readers my excitement at being a part of the American Street team. The Street is consistently voted among the top forty progressive blogs, and for good reason. I am honored to be among such talented writers, bloggers, columnists and humorists. Some all wrapped into one!

My first offering is called "Feng Shui & Falluja".