Tabula rasa, the blank slate, has taken a new meaning in the courtyard. One recent morning I left for work and saw a Red Cat of maybe four months in a window. Almost indigestibly cute, he was a war with the window shade and was, judging by the bent to hell slats, winning a decisive battle.
Continue reading “Week 480: Tabby Rasa and Cat Commandements”
Roughly speaking, there are more than six-hundred thousand words in the English language (minus the stuff you see on medicine jar labels). The average English speaker’s vocabulary is between twenty and thirty-five thousand words. Anyone can contribute new words to the language; Mr Shakespeare added seventeen-hundred now commonly used words on his own. But with so many words, it is inevitable that some of the juicier ones are often overlooked. (Quick disclaimer–the obviously googled numbers produced many results–I selected the sanest looking source to quote.)
Continue reading “Week 478: We Keep Playing Them Word Games Forever”
Kindle is one of the greatest inventions since the pop-top beer can. Anyone who has had to pack and move hundreds of books from one place to another should be grateful for it. I look at my tablet, amazed that I have thousands upon thousands of pages stored in it; enough volumes to make my place look like that of a hoarder. I now own maybe three hundred paper books–down from the high of about fifteen hundred I had on hand in the 90’s.
Continue reading “Week 476: Xtra, Xtra Read All About It; Five, Make That Six Good Reads; Inked Jocularity”
Whether it Be Curbing or Kerbing, Nothing Vomits Sweeter Than Stolen Beer
Society has been going to hell since the invention of the Good Old Days. Funny thing there–because it’s true and yet there are new Good Old Days rolling out of the Good Old Days Factory constantly. A Paradox, until you remember that New People are being produced at even a greater frequency.
Continue reading “Week 472: Where Have You Gone Darby Crash? Punk Bed Fiasco and Not All That Irritates Makes a Pearl”
Tastes
I find that I have a narrow spectrum when it comes to reading material. Along with fiction I like non-fiction written by good writers– biographies by David McCollough are a fine example. I never read “celebrity autobiography” and consider the purchase of such a capital offense. The good thing about books is that you can get a feel for them by reading the first couple of pages (forget the blurbs on the cover). Hardly can ask to watch the first five minutes of a film before deciding to buy a ticket or not.
Continue reading “Week 468: Personal Preference; A Week of Preferred Works and the Fictional Pet Department”
When I was in high school A Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin was considered the greatest rock song (greatest as in “progressive”–whose heyday was from the mid-sixties through the mid-seventies). Anyway, that’s what the guys on the FM radio said. At the start of this month (fifty years later, on the station that’s always playing where I work) Seattle’s “Home of Classic Rock,” KZOK, again voted it number one (narrowly edging out Bohemian Rhapsody, which finished second for the fifth year in a row). For the record, the Queen song is truly an innovative thing–it blew minds when it came around in 1976; and to be honest, I have always disliked Stairway. Fairly or otherwise I associate it with the slacker in an army coat who stank of weed and sat behind me in Social Studies class. He always fell asleep and I had to whack him on the head with exam papers when it was time to pass them back. A minor annoyance in my life, yet I have yet to forget it.
Continue reading “Week 466: Greatness Schmerateness; Five New Stories and Dueling Old Lists”
Happily Never After
I cannot help but knock feel good fiction. It reminds me of Heaven, which no one has ever described to my satisfaction. From what I have seen, Heaven looks like an eternal installment of Songs of Praise (I thought the USA had a monopoly in the department of hokey religious programming, but the UK has once again exposed my ignorance).
Continue reading “Week 464: Happily Never After and Antisocial People Have Feelings Too”
Well here we are, the holidays behind us, in a brand spanking New Year, which, in my eyes, already looks as fresh as a recently widowed elderly French rent boy cruising the cafes in search of a breathing benefactor. But to those of you who insist on at least benign, if not kind or P.C. expressions–well, happy new year to you and many more I am sure.
Continue reading “Week 462: Rule 17; Necessary Words; A to Z of Needless Words”
Well here we are, Christmas. Today I choose to remember it well. My family used to include a Dachshund-Chihuahua mix named “Fang” who joined the team when I was in sixth grade (named after Phyllis Diller’s fictional husband). Fang was a fairly peaceful little guy but he hated Christmas trees. Every year he would attack the damn thing late at night at least once. His partner in crime “Rags,” a tiny Rat Terrier, would encourage Fang with little barks, but feign innocence when the light came on.
Continue reading “Week 460: Terminating The Tree With Extreme Prejudice and Welcome to the Holiday Rerun Fest”
Personality
Hypocrisy and altruism stop at roughly the same point in a person. Although finally copping to your own rottenness and experiencing exhaustion at the highest level of do-goodishness you are capable of are not the same thing, both terminate close enough to the center of a person to form a picture.
Continue reading “458: Personality Issues; Beautiful Losers and Winners”
literally stories 