noötropia

Spring Flood 2011

2011-03-11T19:01:00.000-05:00

Pretty good, simple resource-- Grammar

2010-05-27T01:48:00.002-05:00

Town and Country Tales

2010-03-14T18:59:00.001-05:00

My Dear P_________:

I write to you in the hopes that your expertise and wisdom in the affairs of men might shed some light on the recent happenings we are privy to. Much strangeness has occurred since our last correspondence; I wrote to you of the recent incident with the young couple wrestling upon the ground, and the regrettable incident with the local police and that rapscallion receiving the taser, but that was a fortnight ago—just in these past hours there has been much that has left us flummoxed.

It began yesternight, when my love and I lay down to sleep; as you know, we oft go to bed in the early hours, as is our custom. It was perhaps 4 o’Clock. All was quiet save for the wind outside and the building settling, when suddenly our upstairs neighbor J____arrived home. As you know, he now lives with another, older, gentleman (F____) whom he refers to as his “father-in-law.” As you know, Mal and I have our doubts as to the nature of their relationship. We have sussed out that the older one sleeps in a bed above us; the layout of their apartment is similar to our own. The younger man sleeps (we believe) upon a futon in the other room. At any rate, after some creaking around (his floors are, as you might recall, hard wood, and he has not purchased any textiles to soften the impact of his feet upon the floor) he quieted down. After a while, we became aware of some odd sounds emanating from above us. Our ears pricked up, and we sat up, listening. It sounded—well, you must forgive my directness—but it sounded as if someone were engaging in an act upon the bed above us.

Our immediate assumption was that the younger gentleman might have picked up a strumpet at one of the local establishments, but consider the situation as we have described it—two men, not business partners, living in the very same apartment! The noises originating from upstairs were increasing in volume, and there was a horrible rhythmic creaking. Often, something loud would fall upon the floor with a loud bang. We did not know what to make of it, yet we had our assumptions. The force with which the act was being performed was heroic—I thought perhaps the ceiling would crash down. Yet, at the time, there was no such noise as would be expected from the act—that is, not a peep nor a whisper. Our walls are like rice-paper, as you well know. Does it not seem odd to you that we heard naught save the banging? It was certainly odd. I do not need to tell you that we were a bit bemused by the possibilities. Eventually, the noises died down, and there was much walking about—we slept for a while, but later, still they were walking to and fro.

This morning, we heard a clatter upstairs, and ran to the window, carefully prising the blinds open just so, and looked out at the lot. The front door opened, and we saw not our neighbor but a young man and a young woman—who we believe we have never seen before—walking out of the building. We had, I believe, been hoodwinked! We thought one thing, and yet the truth was altogether different! A red-herring! The young couple were employing the apartment as a secret love-nest. We still do not know the nature of the arrangement, where our neighbors are or what other goings-on will transpire. Perhaps you have thoughts on this matter?

There is more. Later this morning, After all of this had transpired, I was standing at the terrace, drinking my coffee and observing the flooded river beyond the woods. I heard such sounds! It was as if the passionate sounds missing from the night before had been sent downstairs to our below-neighbors. The sawcy young woman below sounded a bit caught up in whatever behaviors were stirring beneath us. She sounded—and again, forgive me for my candor—she sounded as if she was emulating a professional. The sounds emanating from the studio downstairs were positively pornographic. I could not believe my ears. And at two o’Clock! Have these people no shame? I believe it was the two from the wrestling-match previously.

There is even more, but my inkwell needs be replenished—I will save the tale of our next-door neighbor for my next letter. Even as I pen this, I can hear the clattering of falling crockery and her screaming curses; they resound from the outside walls! It is too much.

May I Always Live to Serve You and Your Crown,

James

Spring 2010 flood

2010-03-14T17:23:00.001-05:00

The pic with the hay bales is from 2007-- that's what the field usually looks like.

Sometimes the River doesn't play nice . . .

2010-03-14T17:15:00.000-05:00

Snow again. calling for 10"-14" by tomorrow night

2010-02-25T23:03:00.000-05:00

'cause I love her

2010-02-11T12:23:00.000-05:00

Winter Sunset in New Paltz -or- "The Evening Redness in the West" (with apologies to Cormac)

2010-02-06T18:25:00.000-05:00

"Prodigal" reading at Shawangunk Review 20th Anniversary

2010-02-05T06:36:00.000-05:00

Prodigal

Half a life wrestling with angels

and the smoky devils of misdirection:

The Son stares into his smiling face

at threefivesevennineeleven

doesn’t recognize a thing doesn’t

remember a thing before fifteen.

Muted impression of a boy on a hill,

children playing like ants a lightyear away.

A hell decade and a purgatory-half spent

searching for the ghosts of Laius and Jocasta

in blackened teaspoons and amber nectar

in chemical ecstasies clawing from an abyss of self.

Biting the hand that feeds twice too many times

forces redefinition, reassessment—

Bagels from dumpsters: Manna from Heaven.

Solace: A place out of the rain.

Run and break and burn;

the slow self-immolation accelerates,

flames lick away at the past, the future falls.

February hospital room a

quiet cocoon—

a quickening.

Hushed voices encourage

a lamb to stand, where, caul peeled, staring

wide-eyed at the snow outside, he

receives a new way to see, crystalline.

How many of us are allowed two lives?

He eases through shadows

on unsteady legs, crawling from the ruin,

understanding that the currency of old myth

can be traded for new.

Carrying nothing more than contrition,

something less than hope—

the Son rises and walks through the door

and heads home.

B/W

2010-01-28T23:55:00.000-05:00

Snow

2010-01-28T10:48:00.000-05:00

Update, by request.

2009-12-06T02:50:00.006-05:00

I have been thinking that I ought to update--the idea occurs to me from time to time, but I never seem to get a chance, or the motivation, or something. So someone posted a plea for blog update-ery, so here it is. And I promise to try to keep up with it in the future; regular posts on the way.
So text first, then pics. What have I been doing lately? Well, the first semester of my MAT has been interesting. I had heard many mixed reviews of the program / department, and I have to say that so far, some of it is true and some of it is less so. My instructors are wonderful; they are competent, intelligent, kind, and have extensive background and experience in the field. They are also fair. The work itself is less interesting than English, and I find myself wishing that I was still doing that--my papers read like English papers, even though they are more sociological in scope. I have ideas all the time about theses and papers that I could research and write, but then I have to do this other stuff that I'm not so terribly invested in. I mean, I've said before that while I'm not necessarily approaching this program in a mercenary way, I am doing it for pragmatic reasons; the certification will be useful, and it is the golden ticket to teaching public school. That said, I love teaching, but I'm not certain that I want to teach in public school, or teach high school in the first place. I'd adjunct, but I'd rather be able to afford food and other things necessary to life, and adjuncting does not really help that. Hyperbolic, yes, but there is truth in there somewhere. I have been tossing the idea of a PhD around--I'd really love to do it; there are multiple, overlapping fields that I am interested in, and my dream is teaching at the university level. I suppose I am a bit of a hypocrite--while my advice to everyone else is the clichéd "follow your bliss, do what you want to do and try to find a way to make a living at it," I am not following this advice, but rather focusing on finances, looking for a secure future. When I graduated, a professor (who I consider also a mentor and friend) said "James, congratulations! What's next, a PhD?" I replied that I wasn't sure, perhaps the MAT. She said "If you don't get a PhD you are absolutely crazy. Really. You have to." So maybe . . . it's a thought.

As far as the MAT classes, I suppose I have learned some things, but after having taught First-year Composition and Rhetoric for a couple of years, and studying a lot of Rhet and Comp theory, I feel like a lot of what I'm reading now is either reiterating that which I have already learned, or a watered-down version of same. The classes are enjoyable on the whole, but I feel like I might be putting my time to better use . . .

In other news, I have been working as a Graduate Assistant for the English Department here. The dept only supports students as TA's for two years, but I was rehired as a GA--same deal as the TA, but instead of teaching I work as an Editor for the dept newsletter (Works Cited), back issues of which can be found on the dept weblog (I'll try to remember to include a link in the comment section for this post). I interview people, from faculty and students to authors and lecturers, and write articles about them. I attend panels and talks, take pictures, and maintain the dept blog and facebook page (also try to include links to them) do graphic design work: PR materials, posters, flyers, whatever. I am also sort of a jack-of-all-trades, covering the dept secretary when she's out, all sorts of stuff like that. For all this, my tuition is paid for, and I receive a small stipend. It's a good gig overall, and I'm getting a lot of on-the-job experience, skills, bullet points to put in the Vita. It's also pretty time-consuming, but I'm not complaining.

I had the chance to cover a class or two this semester, including Jan's Creative Nonfiction class, and I was a guest lecturer for two sessions of the "Understanding Poetry" modular class, offered every Fall.

My poem "Life is Worth Living" was published in WaterWrites, an anthology of Hudson Valley poetry, fiction and memoir. I've done a lot of public readings for that, from The Newburgh Free Library, to Inquiring Minds bookstore in New Paltz. We also read at the UP class mentioned above. I also had a few poems published in the Shawangunk Review ("Prodigal," and "Now: Light Rain and Freezing Rain and 30° F") as well as an academic paper: "Epistemological Palimpsest: A Consideration of Subjectivity and Objectivity in Sir Thomas Browne's Religio Medici." The poems were deemed good enough to be featured in the 20th Anniversary special edition of the Shawangunk Review, and I read them at a celebratory reading along with a bunch of other wonderful poets.

I read at New Paltz Celebration of the Arts (COTA), and that was a lot of fun.

This year has been complicated by the ongoing problems that my mother has been subject to--she has been in and out of the hospital, and she recently lost a leg due to vascular problems. She's home now, but it's been rough--I have to go down to LI fairly often, as I'm the "manager" for my parents finances and health care. They have a live-in aide now, but I still have to deal with all the issues as they arise. It makes school a million times more difficult.

I haven't worked at the shop (refinishing and restoring antique and modern furniture) in a while, save to strip and sand this piece or that, though I would like to do more--perhaps over the break, and next semester might be a little more open. I miss doing that work.

I have been working as a tutor on campus though, and I am on a higher pay scale than most, as I have my MA already. Additionally, I am going to receive my CRLA certification on Tuesday, which will enable me to charge $30-$40 dollars an hour for private English tutoring--something I'm looking forward to doing. I really enjoyed working at this job, and I'm surprised at how "emotional" the last tutoring sessions were with my regular students-- you really do develop a rapport with the students, and the "Writer's Assistance" students that I have often request me for future appointments, so I must be doing something right.

I think I am going to apply to some local adjunct positions (Orange, Ulster, CIA, Vassar, Marist et al) next hiring cycle, and see what happens. I'm also looking at writing some papers/abstracts and going to some conferences--whatever I end up doing in the short-term and long-term, I want to stay current and involved.

Right now, it's white and crunchy outside--it snowed substantially for the first time this year, and I am sitting inside, toasty, trying to write final papers--I have an "adolescent interview" paper, in which I am applying theory to a personal interview I did with a former student, then I have to finish a monster of a paper I am writing for my Social Foundation of Education class-- I am performing a Critical Discourse Analysis (a heuristic of my own design, based on Bruce McComiskey's version of Habermas's CDA) on a collection of artifacts that are related to the field of teaching and education. I have about 25+ items, from tee-shirts and bumper stickers to hoax documents of rules for teachers, ca. 1872. It's pretty interesting and fun. Then I have another final paper for Adolescent Development, due on the 14th.

Malorie is amazing, as always, and she sits beside me as I write this, working on her own papers. The cat is on the couch, stretched out like a little sleepy mermaid (her back legs often overlap, giving her that distinctive look of a fused lower body).

I got a Blackberry phone, which has helped me immensely in terms of scheduling (and it's fun to take pictures with too).

There's a lot more, but I have to get back to work--procrastination can only go on for so long, eventually one must return to the task at hand.

One last thing: I watched a bunch of cops fry a dude with a taser in my front yard at four in the morning a few days ago. Evidently he had robbed someone at gunpoint (with an accomplice) on Plattekill Avenue earlier in the night.

Pics:
bookstore reading; SR reading (at podium); Mal and I (and cat); me cradling Lily; Lily looking for some milk; Lily getting what she asked for.

I like doing this

2009-06-18T08:36:00.001-05:00

Magister Artium in English, 3.96 gpa

2009-06-11T02:17:00.003-05:00

hanging out on a cornice in Minnewaska.

Its been a long time, been a long time, Been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time.

2009-01-31T16:15:00.004-05:00

. . . since I last posted. I realized the other day "what a depressing last post," and it's been sitting there for a while. Lots going on, new semester, holidays over (glad for that), taking the last two classes of my MA career. Thinking seriously of tacking on an M.A.T.-- the economy such as it is, and my love for school, I think it's probably not a bad idea in terms of future employability.

I'm taking Old English and American Lit after 1945, the former a requirement, the latter simply to plug a hole to keep my TA position. Both classes seem good so far.

I'm teaching First-year Composition, which is generally Comp. I in the Fall and Comp. II in the Spring. Comp I is the basics of rhet and comp, the second class is more focused on research and a longer paper. All of the Comp. II sections are themed, and I decided to teach metafiction again, though there's metapoetry and metadrama in there too. I'm enjoying class so far, and I'm teaching smart and engaged students--I've been very lucky in my classes that way.

Otherwise, not much going on, I keep meaning to send out poems for consideration, and instead I am sidetracked by all the other stuff that must be done.

I recently refinished an old night table that belonged to my mom and dad, I liberated it and now it's in my bedroom. It was light, now it's dark, but the grain is much deeper now-- pics interspersed, as well as new (grainy webcam) pic of Mal and the cat and I hanging on the couch.

An average of 18 veterans a day commit suicide.

2008-11-11T20:42:00.005-05:00

In a stunning admission, top officials at the Veterans Health Administration confirmed that the agency’s own statistics show that an average of 126 veterans per week -- 6,552 veterans per year -- commit suicide, according to an internal email distributed to several VA officials.

also here.

Tragedy. I was listening to Amy Goodman on the radio today, and she was interviewing another author/correspondent, and he mentioned this statistic. He continued speaking and Amy said (and I'm paraphrasing here) "Wait, what? Let me stop you for a moment, did you just say 18 a day?!" He explained that yes, 18 a day, and that there was an internal memo at the VA, with the subject line "SHHH!" It said, in essence, not to allow the "press" to know of this statistic.

I'm fried, and I have to do a lot of schoolwork, and I JUST got back from LI (drove down this morning, interviewed an aide, set up two bed frames and beds, moved some stuff around, etc, then drove back. Been on the road for six or seven hours today, all told) I wanted to mention this though, because it's terrible, and it's Veterans Day, and while I want to honor those that choose to serve, I also want to point out that we need to provide support to those unfortunate enough to see combat.

President-elect Obama, will be the 44th President of the United States.

2008-11-04T23:17:00.006-05:00

Barack Obama passes 270 electoral votes, defeats John McCain, and will become 44th President of the United States. (338-156 at the time of this post)

HE EVEN TOOK FLORIDA!

History has been made, perhaps a reason for hope. 8 years of shit, and now there is a light at the end.

An African-American President. Something I thought I wouldn't see in my lifetime.

A landslide? A mandate?

I think so, at least for the latter.

A statement against corruption, a wonderful affirmation for change, for the kind of leadership we haven't seen since Presidents like JFK. (I would settle for work similar to Bill Clinton's, minus the scandalous behavior)

It also looks like we have a majority in the Senate as well.

Look, I don't want to sound like I have "drank the kool-aid," but I'm telling you, the man is a galvanizing, powerful force, an amazing, dynamic speaker, and a signifier of a sea-change in this country.

Congratulations, President-elect Obama. I look forward to your leadership.

ps I would LOVE to go to his Inauguration.

If I didn't have to write a paper tonight / tomorrow, I would be out screaming in the streets.

I don't know why this is so funny.

2008-11-03T23:17:00.002-05:00

Found on the "Zombie Survival Wiki":

********* Most awesome dream yet ever!But someone just interrupted it!
I was playing World of Warcraft and When I was doing Sunwell Plateau a raid instance, We defeated Kil'jaeden and the other bosses and I was very happy I got my Gronnstalker's Set and Thoridal Stars' Fury on my Hunter. I went to the CR and I saw myself wearing a weird Chain Mail,Helmet with an eye,and shoulderpads with an eye. It looked like the same thing in the game. I went to the living room and my dog looks weird too,it looked like a monster it was a warp stalker from the thing you tame as a pet in world of warcraft, I went outside and everybody was a zombie and big abominations. I saw my friend he was a zombie,I had a bow on my back and it was Thoridal Stars' Fury I shot all the zombies with a magical arrow. I was impressed and I thinked of moredamage and I gained "Aspect of the Hawk" which made me stronger. I whistled,I lost my ride so a cool armored tiger was there to take me to the city.I went to the city and while on my tiger I didn't knew I had a cool axe on my back,it made me stronger. I saw zombies coming near me and I used my bow on them. There were more zombies and I commanded my warp stalker to kill em all.I unleashed a Beastial Rage.I was in top of the building dancing . But while I was dancing, I fell down on the building and some weird dragon just saved me from falling,it was a Nether Drake and I had a huger smile on my face. I saw more zombies and I went down, I killed em all with my bow and someone just gouged me and backstabbed me finally it eviscerated me. I saw it was Bilo the rogue my arena opponent. While I was kneeling down I gave him the finger and he mutilated me.

Meet Lily "Cloud" Briscoe

2008-10-27T04:07:00.003-05:00

Meet Lily, our new kitten. She's a beautiful baby, a little troublemaker, and we love her very very much.

We think she's a Maine Coon--note the tufts in the ears and the big mitts. And yes, her name is a nod to Ginny Woolf.

Bonticou Crag and assorted things

2008-09-26T02:25:00.001-05:00

So, after getting a four-root root canal on Monday, which was particularly traumatic (and still only half-done as of this post), I took a "mental health day" on Tuesday; after four years in this place, I finally went to the Mohonk preserve. I climbed Bonticou Crag, which, while only a vertical rise of 1,148' above sea level, has a huge payoff at the summit. There's a scramble up 200' or so, and the view from the spine is sublime. I am getting an annual pass to the preserve. click on pics for more detail.

sometimes they just get it right . . .

2008-09-22T00:10:00.002-05:00

This is particularly funny and current for me, as I am reading selections from Genesis and Exodus, as well as other selections from the Tanakh lately.

crows, bow, sunset

2008-09-02T19:42:00.000-05:00

Update

2008-08-25T19:23:00.002-05:00

A lot has transpired since the last post-- this is the last of the "personal" posts for a while, going to keep it to professional and academic (as well as photos) for now.

My mom has been in the hospital for the past couple of weeks. (yeah, I know, she had just been back to the sub-acute, but then she got sick again)

She was transferred back to the sub-acute tonight, but her secondary insurance pre-authorization was slow in coming, and it sounds like they only approved her for two more weeks. Keep your fingers crossed for me--my sense is that she needed two more weeks two weeks ago, but now having been in the hospital again, she might end up going somewhere other than home when she finishes at the rehab. I'm hoping she will be able to go back home, but . . . well, we'll all simply keep our fingers crossed. Okay?

__________________________________________________

In other news, today was the first day of the Fall 2008 semester, and I held my first Composition class. From what I see, I have a bright bunch of students that I'm excited to work with this semester. I know they're smart because they wouldn't be here if they weren't. To wit: news article / press release: "This year’s larger-than-normal freshman class was selected from an applicant pool of 13,868, which represents the 18th consecutive year that New Paltz has received the most new student applications among all SUNY colleges. The number of freshman applications has risen 54 percent since 2000 and as a result, New Paltz remains one of the most selective universities in the Northeast, accepting only 35 percent of its applicants.".

So yes, they're bright.

I am going to read over their diagnostic essays tonight, maybe do some laundry, wash the car?

I'm happy to be back.

setback--now moving forward again.

2008-07-14T10:06:00.002-05:00

Mom spent the last week in the hospital; the rehab. sent her back because her white count jumped from 7.5 up to ~20 or so. Turned out to be Vancomycin-resistant enterococcus.

After some serious insanity, she is now back at the same rehab. she was in before.

I came home for three days to work and get some of my shit together, going back down to LI tonight. We need to assess our options.

update for those of you who are interested

2008-07-01T01:09:00.003-05:00

So. Yesterday I drove back up to New Paltz, and I went over the mountain this afternoon to do some work at my boss’s house. I worked for a few hours, and during the course of the day I saw two mouse families who scurried to safety from under a tarp, several LARGE spiders, many carrying around egg sacs, and a gorgeous, inquisitive snake that was practically fearless, who came right out of a pile of siding and inspected me as I was inspecting it. Tonight I took a short walk and watched a satellite skim across a starry sky and felt the cool night breeze on my skin. It was a way to recharge some rapidly depleting emotional and psychological batteries. I’m going back down to Long Island tomorrow early in the afternoon.

As I have said before on this blog, I generally stray from the really personal stuff, preferring instead to stick to interesting articles related to my field, some brief poems, lots of photographs, and other related stuff. But some of you have caught wind of things that have been brewing over the past months, and I thought that I’d write a little about those happenings both for you, in order to keep those interested and concerned up-to-date with the ongoing situation, and as a sort of process for myself to help crystallize a maelstrom of thought that hasn’t seemed to abate, and in fact, seems to be worsening.

Earlier this year, my father (who recently turned 80) had chest pains and went into the hospital for what we thought was going to be a routine catheterization, and ended up being a triple-bypass with a stay in a sub-acute rehabilitation facility. He managed to get himself back in fine fettle with a little work and a lot of love. This occurred during the Spring semester, and I cannot thank my colleagues and friends enough for their understanding, love and support during what was a very trying time for me, as I was juggling my home issues with teaching a Composition section and taking my own grad. classes. Part of the complexity of the situation was that my father was, in some manner, a care-giver or help-mate or whatever we might choose to call it for my mother, who is in her 70s. My father was fortunate to go to the University Medical Center at Stony Brook, a hospital that I CANNOT RECOMMEND HIGHLY ENOUGH. His treatment, from the moment he went in to the moment he was discharged, was superlative at every level, and so was the treatment offered to me—as a relative, an advocate, and as a person, I was also extended every courtesy, and I will praise them to the heavens given half a chance. More on this in a bit.

A little bit about mom: she has fought with Rheumatoid Arthritis for ~30 years, and I have watched this disease wear her down for all this time. She has had knuckles replaced, ankle fusions, surgery after surgery for many years, and I have witnessed it all. She’s a fighter, and she’s managed to maintain her independence in the face of overwhelming adversity. R.A. is an insidious disease, and its severity varies from person to person, and unfortunately my mother (according to numerous specialists, including two amazing rheumatologists) was dealt a particularly bad hand with regard to the damage it has done to her. She’s been on a cocktail of meds for a long time, including gold salts in the 80’s, methotrexate, prednisone for as long as I can remember, and until a few years ago, a heavy dose of a prescription NSAIDs that she had to discontinue because her liver couldn’t take it anymore. She’s on Enbrel now, along with a TON of analgesics, primarily narcotics, still the prednisone, and some others. All of these drugs have side effects, some worse than others.

She was admitted to a hospital several months ago for cellulitis in her legs, mostly in her shins. She’s had weeping edema in that general area, and the swelling, combined with paper-thin skin from the years of prednisone led to some infections that spread pretty rapidly (also due to her weakened immune system, both from the drugs, her age, and the disease itself, which is a form of auto-immune disorder where the body attacks itself, basically eating one’s own joints away). We managed to get that under control, but frankly, the hospital she was admitted to SUCKED (I’ll give you a hint which one—it’s in Port Jefferson, NY, and it’s named John T. Mather Memorial Hospital. It used to be wonderful, but now it’s shit.) She came out of there worse than she went in. The level of care was terrible, and she left with pressure sores and all sorts of other issues.

The situation now is unrelated to that stay, but I mention it because it is part of the bigger picture. Her stay in that hospital set her back a bit in terms of her overall physical ability—she lost some muscle tone that she never managed to quite recover, and in hindsight, she probably ought to have been sent to a sub-acute rehab. after her hospital stay then. I spent some time taking care of her after she was released from the hospital, because it was at this point that my father went in for his stay.

So, mom went in to the hospital some time in March of 2008, dad went in later in the month. I have everything written down, but I can’t find all the notes right now. They both recovered, mostly, and that was that.

I spoke with my mom on Thursday, 6.5.2008, and she told me she felt sick; she didn’t feel like talking. She had gone out to dinner with my dad and his brother, who they hadn’t seen in a while, and she thought she might had gotten food poisoning. I told her to call me when she felt better, or I’d call in a day or two.

My parents live in an “Independent Senior Living Community,” which is ~150 apartments under one roof, and they are provided a continental breakfast and a sit-down dinner everyday, as well as organized activities, entertainment (they just purchased a Nintendo Wii a few months ago for what amounts to Senior Wii parties), and other activities like outings and excursions to the mall, etc. Each apartment has a refrigerator, stove, and other amenities, and there are laundry facilities on each floor—two washers, two dryers, an ironing board, an iron. It’s pretty well set-up, with a small library and ten or twelve internet-connected terminals, movies on a giant-screen projection-type television, and other things to occupy the residents. There’s a feeling of community there, and a great deal of social interation. I’m happy for my parents that they managed to find such a nice place to live, after they sold their house. There are support staff there all the time, cleaning, keeping tabs on residents, and notifying family members of issues that need to be addressed. They are all wonderful, committed people, and I’m thankful that they are there as well.

Friday night, I was doing laundry at a local 24-hour Laundromat; I had waited until later because the daytime temperatures were in the high 90s. At 11:30pm, I got a call from a staff member that my mother had taken a fall, and that they had requested “lift-assistance.” What this means is that they called the fire department—despite having support staff on site, they don’t deal with issues like this. Further, the paramedics that came determined that my mother was “unresponsive,” and needed to go to the hospital. Fortunately, I was able to direct the parameds to take my mother to the University Hospital I spoke so highly of before.
The story is VERY long, but the short version is this (not like this whole story hasn’t been long enough as it is . . .). When my mother was brought in, she was in septic shock from a massive internal infection, and she stayed in the hospital from the seventh of June to the nineteenth. Her care was amazing, just as my father’s was when he was there, and again, I am truly thankful that there are such proficient, talented, and caring people over there. This time she was recommended for sub-acute rehab upon discharge, and that’s where she is now. She has been there since the 19th.

Her major issues were/are: no control/lack of muscle tone on the right side (which unfortunately is her dominant side) to the point of flaccidity, weakness on her left side, and profound weakness in her legs. Prior to all of this new stuff, she had been working once or twice a week with a physical therapist, but all of the time spent in bed undermined any gains she had made.

The biggest problem though is that once she got into the rehab, things seemed to be getting better. Then the Physical Therapists got to her and fucked her up. Apologies for the vulgarity, but that’s exactly what they did. They were a bit overzealous, and they worked her left wrist a bit much, which became inflamed and agonizingly painful, and I’ve been at her bedside with icepacks trying to fix the damage they did. I’m also feeding her, as she’s lost the ability to do ANYTHING with her hands—she can’t really even push the call button for an RN or a CNA, so her roommate (who is wonderful by the way) calls for her.

It’s sad, because she’s sharp as a tack mentally, and it must be hellish to be aware and watch your body melt down around you. I’m trying to be with her all the time, but there’s only so much that I can do—I’m trying to be her advocate (although the staff at the rehab is pretty good, the only problem is getting everyone on the same page; a lot of the staff are per diem workers, and so don’t have a chance to become familiarized with the individual patient’s situations.) I’m also trying to make sure that my father is okay by himself—he is, mostly, but he’s slowing down and there are a bunch of things that he either won’t do or doesn’t know how to do, and so I’m trying to maintain all the finances and the bills and the mail and all that.
In the midst of trying to be my mom’s emotional and physical support, as well as my father’s, I’m also serving other masters—I’m committed to doing some editorial work over the summer, and I’m an assistant to a woodworker/restorer who depends upon me to keep our shop running smoothly. I’m trying to make everyone happy, and I’m going to snap if I can’t figure out a way to juggle all of this stuff. Did I mention I’m an only child? Yeah, there’s that too. I’m not going to get all “poor me, poor me,” but it is a rough road.

I know this is long and rambling, and if it doesn’t cohere, I apologize, but it’s a way for me to vent, to update those of you who weren’t aware of what was happening, and a way of keeping up with those of you who were aware. There’s SO much more to this story, but perhaps I’ll post more later. This is all surface that I’m speaking about right now—there’s so much more running under the surface that I want to address, stuff that I perhaps ought not to post on a public weblog, and yet . . . I really want to say some of it out loud. Some of it needs to be said, and some of it I suppose must remain private, occult, away from those who cannot know what this is like. I've been up and down and up and down (both emotionally and geographically) and most of the time I don't even know what day it is anymore. There have been other, smaller sub-dramas, like the car breaking down and stuff like that, but all that pales in the face of what the overall situation is. I have a small support network, and Malorie has been amazing--AMAZING, but I can't help but feel alone in this in many ways. Perhaps more on this in the coming days, as I am able to continue processing what's happening.

I’m not asking for much, just maybe send me (and mom) some healing energy or white light, or something.

More later, I suppose.

Requiscat in Pace

2008-05-30T08:50:00.001-05:00

Sparrow
Jane Arden Stoneback
1935-2008

Sparrow-Jane Arden Stoneback-singer-songwriter of
international reputation,
paragon of grit and grace, wit and will, during her long
fight with lung cancer and all her life, passed away May
25th at Cumberland County Hospital in Kentucky. Born in
Carter County, in the eastern Kentucky hill-country,
daughter of Alice and Richard Hillman, she made her home
in the Hudson Valley for the past four decades. Before
moving to Highland in 1969, she lived in Alabama, Florida,
Hawaii, Kentucky, New Orleans, South Jersey, and
Tennessee. She also lived and traveled extensively
abroad, especially in France and China.
She studied at Vanderbilt University, the
University of Paris, and Peking University. She taught and
tutored English language students and lectured on folksong
in France and China. Other work experience included a year
in Hawaii as Executive Assistant to the President of one
of the largest Pacific Rim firms, three years in Nashville
as national troubleshooter for General Electric, and many
years in the emergency room admissions department of
Benedictine Hospital in Kingston. She was also a writer
who published essays, poems, and songs.
During a forty-five year singing career as
the better half of the duo "Stoney & Sparrow," she
achieved national and international renown as a singer
through her powerful and nuanced performances of folk,
country, and gospel songs as well as her own compositions.
She made concert tours and television and radio
appearances throughout Asia, Europe, and North America
under the auspices of the British Council, the Fulbright
Program, USIA (the US State Department), and many other
cultural organizations and institutions. She performed in
Austria, China, Czechoslovakia, Denmark, England, France,
Germany, Greece, Hong Kong, Ireland, Italy, Malaysia, the
Philippines, Poland, Russia, Singapore, Spain, Thailand
and other countries as well as in most of the fifty states
and throughout the Caribbean.
In 1984 she sang all over China and several
albums featuring her singing were major hit recordings
there-said to be the first million-selling records by an
American in China. In 2006 a 2-CD album, "Stoney &
Sparrow: Songs of Place 1962-2006," was released (recorded
live in New Paltz). In 2007 another album-"Overcoming:
Live in Alabama, China, and the Hudson Valley"-was
released, featuring earlier concert performances and
dedicated to the Hope Lodge in Nashville, where cancer
patients at the Vanderbilt Medical Center reside during
treatment.
Closer to home, Sparrow was well known for her
performances in the Hudson Valley, especially at SUNY-New
Paltz where she performed annually for many years. The
world that she made in her singing was inseparable from
her role as gracious host and adoptive mother to the
extended family of generations of SUNY-New Paltz students
that she welcomed to her home, their home. This community,
this communion of students and teachers, poets and
writers, salutes her as muse:
"Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her
husband also, and he praiseth her."
(Proverbs 31:28)
She is survived by her husband of forty-six
years, H. R. ("Stoney"-Distinguished Professor of English
at SUNY-New Paltz), her son Rick (CEO of the Cumberland
County Hospital in Kentucky) and his wife Robin, her son
Gregg (Professor of English at Westfield State College in
Massachusetts) and his wife Nancy, and her four
grandchildren, Adam and Lee (Westfield, MA) and Rachel and
Richard (Marrowbone, KY).

The Clouds Will Pass, and The Light Will Spill Down Like Milk

2008-05-15T01:45:00.000-05:00

Process notes for previous post

2008-05-14T18:25:00.000-05:00

The first two pics plus caffeine and hard thinking get you the last two (with some luck!)

2008-05-14T18:23:00.000-05:00

things are different . . . after night falls (I)

2008-04-23T23:53:00.000-05:00

things are different . . . after night falls (II)

2008-04-23T23:51:00.001-05:00

the eldest

2008-04-20T03:16:00.000-05:00

“Scientists have found a cluster of spruces in the mountains in western Sweden which, at an age of 8,000 years, may be the world's oldest living trees.” –news article, April 2008.

They have squatted down on the leeward side,
One hundred of our lifetimes and more, enduring.
Patiently pushing upward, a new trunk replacing the old
As each grows past its limit.

It takes a certain sort of vegetative patience,
Thick sap-blood feeding the sluggish roots as they grip
The rock of the mountain edge, a vice-hold as
Knotty hands knit the soil, burrow and bore down.

The blue glacier receded, and in its frost-wake
They slowly rose, glabrous shoots and simple saplings,
Then arching up to meet the clean cold sky,
A brown smudge with green needle leaves.

Born three thousand years before the first
Pictograms appear, thriving on only
Carbon Dioxide, water, and the sun.
Silent sentinels with wrinkled skins.

If only we could be more like them,
Robust, resistant, defiant in the face of
Fickle weather and the wearing-down
Of life; we could render time powerless.

Lost RECAP

2008-04-19T12:34:00.001-05:00

hunger

2008-03-03T03:22:00.002-05:00

In the slum of Cité Soleil, Haiti,
a woman squats with mudstained arms
grey like elephant trunks.
She opens a bundle and lays out cookies
the size of your palm, yellowish and hard.
They are made of dirt.

Rather clay, shortening and salt,
and edible, in a way.
Two cups of rice are sixty cents,
far too much for the poor to afford,
(the better-off among them live on two dollars a day)

So they eat these cookies.
They trick the stomach into believing
it has been fed.
Fed, but not nourished.

Toxins and parasites live in the soil,
but it’s better than nothing,
when you’re starving.

Port-au-Prince, Manila, Cairo, Nairobi, Mexico City,
São Paulo, Mumbai, Rio de Janeiro—Detroit?

Incomprehensible. Undeniable.

Quoted for truth

2008-03-01T02:32:00.000-05:00

"Go read a book you illiterate son of a bitch and step up yo' vocab." -- Bun B from Jay-Z's "Big Pimpin."

new poem for poem a day (more like poem every few days? poem-a-week?)

2008-02-28T02:01:00.002-05:00

Overeducation Blues

The relentless evisceration of texts has got me down.
the combing and picking and teasing out occult meaning,
the contexualizing and histori-izing and criticizing.
I’m a demoralized dessicated ossified scholar
With inkstained fingertips and eraser smut on my lap,
a wonky wandering eye, twitching wrists, and a crookback.

What happened to curling up with a old book in a
warm bethrowrugged nook? A mug of tea and time?
What happened to the pure joy of reading for reading’s sake?
I want to read something, anything sans highlighter in my hand
and pen clenched twixt teeth—sticky flags, post-it notes,
cf’s and nota bene’s, the scrawled taint of marginalia.

I want it back—the plunge into the multiplicity
of universes manifest in the dripping rivulets of whitespace,
the possibility of flight despite the justified typography
(though better than flush left and ragged right)
The simple luxury of the slowly fingered page, flip,
flipping at leisure verso, recto, verso, recto.

Damned! The delight has been dammed,
held back, now stagnant pulp muck.
Graduate school, you whoreson dog!
You’ve drained the river to a trickle, trained me,
pickled my brain. Even a menu must be deconstructed!
Restaurant scansion, counting syllables in appetizers, I’m lost.

Can I be saved? Perhaps there’s a quiet place
I can sit and rehabilitate with a copy of something light
like À la recherche du temps perdu. Dunking cookies in tea,
I’ll stretch out and swim into the whitespace rivers, the
flowing cataracts of thought uninterrupted by editorial,
simply text and text. Verso, recto. Verso, recto.

found poetry (warning: email SPAM, may not be for those with delicate sensibilities)

2008-02-20T09:11:00.002-05:00

The conversation has been moved to the Trash

Women need more and more these days
but the problem is that you have small one.

Human growth does not stop at puberty. - Feel the power of your new tool.
after suffering for so many years as 5 inches is amazing

Those locker room stares will be for the right reason.
Performance in bed is set to soar.

Your manhood is set to GROW!
Feel like a brand new man with this.

here's how you can upsize: Huge, thick and amazingly long all this can be yours.
Begin a sex hero

Get a new social life once you have this
12 sweet pills for free- hot special offer-4 or 12 mega pills for free.

Now you can penetrate hardly.
Even James Bond uses these pils to pleasure his girls.

Be the man she always wanted. Boost your confidence with your new-found instrument.
Fire your gun at full blast.

Get a rocking new lease of life with your new tool.
Give them this!

Fill your bedroom with fire once and for all!
Be a superlover!

Contact your doctor or seek emergency medical attention for any
erection that lasts longer than 4 hours.

Filter messages like these.

2008-02-07T00:54:00.000-05:00

Now: Light Rain and Freezing Rain and 32°F

says my blinking forecast. Sounds about right.
These past weeks are icestormy, pogonip nights
dropping tinkling crystalline dust on every surface,
sugared walks, latticelike doilies and then frozen water,
leaving crackling shellacked branches
raining icemelt in the morning warmth, quiet cracking clock-
faces in still pools, lucent medallions, ice-cakes floating into
gray days and white nights and diffuse moons, road salt and
sand walks and the plow-scrape scarring parking lots.
Hot coffee and doughnuts in the mornings before class,
I pass the rising cloud breath of crowds, looking for safe footing.
Under all this, it’s still green, anticipating the shortening shadows
marking the inching arc of the sun by day, the clasped buds
tight and pensive, motionless, waiting.

Manhattan Night Skyline, as seen from Blvd. E in Weehawken, NJ tonight.

2008-02-04T00:31:00.000-05:00

note Empire State Bldg. is blue in honor of the NY Giants.

2008-02-01T02:28:00.000-05:00

My neighbor likes to play a game with me
when I get into the shower.
It’s called “freeze and scald.”
I wash, as he tries to kill me.
Soap and nylon puff smush together,
black bits sit suspended in the lather,
little poppyseeds from an artisanal bar.
The water rains down, and for a while it’s bliss.
I am coated in foam like a melting snowman.
Then, light footsteps upstairs—
the pressure drops oh-so-slightly
and I sidestep.
The few fat droplets that make it onto
my unprotected skin are slivers of ice,
summoning goosepimples.
Then, the pressure changes. I sense it before it happens,
a finely-tuned survival response.
The spray could boil a chicken.
I adjust the dial, normalize the temperature
—but only for a moment, as my
passive-
aggressive
nemesis responds in kind.
This is the game we play.
I’m not sure if he’s simply unaware or
if this is all by design,
but I’ve developed a complex about it—
It occurs with a frightening regularity.
The heat returns to my original setting,
and I rinse, turn off the tap, and grab a towel.
Instantly, I hear the water turn on above me, full blast.
The towel goes round my waist and I step to the sink.
It’s fun to run the water and knock the tap back and forth.
He may be on to something.

2008-01-29T01:55:00.000-05:00

Seems like a little mouth screaming
the clouds make all the sadness.
I had misread the tone. It is exactly right.
I'll worry.
there is plenty of stuff every day,
virtually all of it discourages you from applying it in the world.
Try to inhale at one or two removes from the ground. None of it is real.
"you have a ruptured disc at C4-5 and osteophytes impinging everywhere, stenosis . . ."
Pain, always in the third person.

Breathe (not real).

Last Sunset of 2007

2008-01-07T01:37:00.000-05:00

Last sunset of 2007, and a link from Harper's.

Harper's Yearly Review

Congratulations Mal!

2007-12-15T00:54:00.000-05:00

"Outstanding Graduate" award, photo-op with SUNY New Paltz President Steven Poskanzer.

random pics taken in the past few days. eye, christmas lights, don't walk!, the fog on the ridge this morning before administering the comp. final.

2007-12-13T02:22:00.000-05:00

What's wrong with this picture?

2007-12-13T02:07:00.000-05:00

Mal got this sample in the mail. Somebody lost their job over this, or received a strong reprimand for photoshop incompetence.

End-of-semester wrapup part 1

2007-12-11T05:43:00.000-05:00

the classroom. where the magic happens.

trying to organize class materials.

one anonymous student's "feedback."

how I dressed for the first several weeks of the semester before opting for a more casual look. I'll probably go back to this, but it was nice to be able to choose to dress down when I wanted.

ReadMe -- Book Related AskMe

2007-12-11T04:31:00.000-05:00

ReadMe - Mefi Wiki

Book related Ask MetaFilter questions cobbled together from user shothotbot.

A Poorly-Composed Pseudo-Abcedarian Mnemonic Poem of Prosodic and Literary Terminology for Your Education and Pleasure

2007-12-06T02:15:00.000-05:00

An Anacoluthon is—what is Ananym for?

Boustrophedon in write could I or

a Chiasmus—the music of syntax.

Finger-joint Dactyls cut off by an axe.

Epanaleptic repetition where repetition is the norm—

this poem is not in Free Verse nor is it a Fixed Form.

Not really Gnomic, avoiding much judgment,

a Hapax Legomenon—“noncelet” or “nudgement.”

I can add an Ictus to show you the stress

or Jameswords || runningtogethera || Joyceanmess.

A Chorus of Kenemes: and, the, at, thus

messing with text in (Lunulæ): a Logodaedalus.

I could have used Litotes, a sort of Meiosis

or a Neologism, a Nonce-word: “Noöpoesis.”

Eviscerated with Onomatopoetic Obeli ,† † †,

with a ZIP and a SPLASH I open, sacrificed to Prosody.

Not “Quotation Marks,” but Inverted Commas, on

the Recto, the Verso, wait—this ain’t a Roman!

Ain’t is a Solecism, see also Syncope:

a Contraction, Elision, redundant Tautology.

Unvoiced Alveolar Lateral Fricative, the IPA’s curse,

Metrical writing with Stanzas are Verse.

Wit is from Witan: “to know” what is clever,

Xenophanic means witty, but this poem? whatever.

Yoking a phrase with Zeugma to end it,

the poem ends in wisdom—and the last couplet.

ice storm; click pix for detail

2007-12-03T09:56:00.000-05:00

Blogs in Cultural Studies, Theory, Literature, and Rhetoric

2007-12-02T19:56:00.000-05:00

Culture, Theory, Literature - AcademicBlogs

ouch. medicine is expensive.

2007-11-16T08:57:00.000-05:00

1 IVS 0.9 NS 1L 20.00
4 ALBUTEROL S04 0.5% 5MG/ML 148.00
1 TERBUTALINE 1MG INJ 31.00
1 METHYLPREDNISOLON SU 125 MG 26.00
1 USE OF OXYGEN 0-12 LITERS 60.00
1 NEBULIZER- DISPOSABLE 19.00
1 VENTIMASK-S 29.00
1 02 WITH MASK / CANNULA-S .00
1 PEAKFLOW METER-S 45.00
1 DRESSING TRANSPARENT-S 16.00
1 IV SET PIGGY PRIMARY 23.00
1 PULMONARY TX PR I 77 66.00
1 ER-MOD NURSING CARE & PROC 305.00
1 PROCEDURE PULSE OXIMETRY 96.00
1 IV/SALINE LOCK-S 44.00
NYS SURCHARGE 49.67

TOTAL 974.67

(plus the take home Rx ran about 150.00)

expatriate

2007-11-14T02:15:00.000-05:00

Why I Left America: The Rise Of Elitism And The Death Of American Democracy
(via)

filthy

2007-11-12T02:10:00.000-05:00

2007 Jones Soda Holiday Pack

First Day of School

2007-10-31T12:12:00.000-05:00

This is me, around '79(?)

Car Fire in the Parking Lot

2007-10-31T11:47:00.000-05:00

New pics! Autumn!

2007-10-24T01:45:00.000-05:00

These are all also from my office window on the seventh floor of the Jacobsen Faculty Tower.

I haven't posted in forever, and I'm going to try to do better. It's just . . . busy.

The View from my office window

2007-09-12T12:28:00.000-05:00

KITCHEN SCENE OF COCK FIGHTS

2007-09-08T00:13:00.000-05:00

The Hasbrouck House is located a short walk down my street, and this never fails to make me laugh when I walk past it. Those crazy Huguenots! They arrived here, happy to be free from religious persecution, and promptly set about betting on whose rooster was going to kick whose ass.

The Ecstasy of Saint James

2007-09-05T01:03:00.000-05:00

Mal took this-- I await canonization.

2007-09-02T23:17:00.000-05:00

Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.

"Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo" is a grammatically correct sentence used as an example of how homonyms and homophones can be used to create complicated constructs.

See also: Lion-Eating Poet in the Stone Den.

And also: Linguistic example sentences.

OBVIOUS DEP'T.

2007-09-02T23:16:00.000-05:00

Thanks for the caveat, Ellio's.

Ergodic Literature

2007-08-30T22:30:00.000-05:00

Ergodic literature is literature that requires a "non-trivial effort" to traverse the text.

More here.

2007-08-20T07:14:00.000-05:00

OK, it's getting exciting.

Really.

the past few weeks

2007-07-24T00:59:00.000-05:00

It's been a rough month or two. (outrageously bad asthma attack, tendonitis from building the house, rushing home 'cause dad had an another angioplasty, etc)

Still not smoking, it's been four weeks.

I need to put together a syllabus for the Fall, and right quick, at that. (been sidetracked by watching "Six Feet Under")

I suppose I need to come up with some good content for this blog, as opposed to just posting this boring shit.

Poker night at the condo

2007-07-01T02:08:00.000-05:00

We are stone cold.

Seriously.

The Flop.

resources for students

2007-06-26T01:38:00.000-05:00

software and websites of interest. via

memorization

2007-06-24T20:56:00.001-05:00

This seems as though it would work as well as anything. Anyone have any tips or tricks for memorization/ memory retention and recall?

Kathy Griffin

2007-06-24T20:05:00.000-05:00

LET'S HAVE A CHILI COOKOFF MOTH3RF()CKERS!

I'm no fanboy, but Kathy is awesome, in a metadiscursive, PoMo sort of way. She's also outrageous and fabulous, and anyone who gets disinvited to as many shows as she does is doing something right.

My Life on the "D" List

other stuff.

2007-06-23T20:44:00.000-05:00

In order: Us, creepy neighbor window, nice window, my garden plot (still with nothing in it).
p.s. Blogger and Picasa are being a**holes right now, and nothing is working. It took me a half an hour to get this post up correctly. wtf.

CatWalk

2007-06-23T20:35:00.000-05:00

Ricky and "Gutter". Ricky is our cat-by-proxy. (He's the one facing right, belongs to our next door neighbor)

They would appear to be friends.

But they like to tussle.

Here's another unknown cat, hamming it up.

I have been a smoker for eighteen years...

2007-06-23T01:20:00.000-05:00

and today, June 23rd, is my official quit day. Encouragement and moral support gladly accepted.

WHO KNEW SOFT DRINKS COULD BE HYDRATING?

2007-06-18T23:11:00.000-05:00

file under "ridiculous"

this is some copy from a Coca-Cola^® 12-pack carton:

Who knew soft drinks could be hydrating?
It's true. All beverages hydrate, including soft drinks. So if you are looking for hydration, but want the delicious and refreshing taste you get from Coca-Cola, don't compromise - go for it! You'll be hydrating your body with each and every sip.

They then provide this link, which leads here, which is a corporate site about hydration, and how Coca-Cola^® and its assorted products might meet your hydrating needs, going so far as to suggest that if you had a yen for coffee or tea, that's fine too.

Of course, it is okay to drink those things, but let's be reasonable here-- caffeine acts as a diuretic, which ends up dehydrating you.

I just find this sort of spin very interesting. The idea that all liquids hydrate, while not off the mark, is a bit misleading. Following this logic, one might reach for heavy cream or buttermilk in order to replace one's lost moisture--which might be a godsend if one was in, oh I don't know, DEATH VALLEY or the GOBI DESERT, but when one has other choices, like good old H₂O, or an electrolyte-balanced sports drink, fizzy caffeinated drinks just seem to pale a bit in comparison.

Reminds me of the old Saturday Night Live "Cookie Dough Sport" commercial wherein people are chugging cookie-dough ice cream on hot summer days whilst performing strenuous activities.

Rail Trail Ride

2007-06-17T02:11:00.000-05:00

So I (foolishly) went on a bike ride today, despite having a fairly severe asthma attack that came on last week; I'm on prednisone for it, and I thought I was okay. I was, at least for the first 3 or 4 miles. This is a shot of the Plattekill Creek Gorge, a few miles South of my condo.

The weather was semi-threatening-- here are some Thunderheads drifting South over the ridge.

Hot day-- cows seeking some shade. They were mooing a bit, and the calves came bounding over to the moms and dads.

Overall, it was nice, and I ended up heading back north and then further by a few miles, which proved to be a mistake... I spent the greater part of today trying to recuperate. Hopefully I will be smarter tomorrow, and take it easier. Still, it was a nice ride.

wordie

2007-06-13T21:23:00.000-05:00

juv3nal at MetaFilter pointed out this cool thing in this thread. I had posted this short list of cool words a little while before.

Thanks juv3nal! (He also has a pretty cool site, here.)

LibriVox...

2007-06-05T23:00:00.000-05:00

is a very cool site that features free audiobooks within the public domain. Check out the short story and poetry sections.

Went to LI for a week

2007-05-29T07:18:00.000-05:00

The estuary behind West Meadow beach in Setauket, NY.

Artesian well-- the water comes out of here cold and wonderful, always good for filling bottles and washing off when you're hot.

Flowah.

Due to the beach's orientation, the sunsets here are consistently good, three seasons of the year. (In the winter, the suns path is further to the south, and therefore sets over local land and not the water. We are looking WSW (almost due west) at Connecticut here.

It was a really nice trip-- I bought a 13' recreational kayak from Boréal Design, (the "Ookpik"-- an inuit word for Snowy Owl) and I took it out in the sound a little bit. It was really nice, and I'm now going to look for people to kayak with up here. I'll post pics of the kayak soon enough.

___________________________________________________

In other news, I finished my first graduate semester here, to the tune of 4.00, and I thank my professors for a wonderful (if psychosis-inducing) few months. Drs. F, W, and U: thanks. Now on to planning for next semester, making up a syllabus, and steeling myself for my first time teaching Freshman Composition.

I also got a 20' x 30' plot at the "Gardens for Nutrition," a community garden right in behind the condo; it originally started out as a place to grow produce for the less-well-off, and now is open to anyone. They have a shed with all the tools one needs, and an electric fence to keep the deer out (like the sonic fence in LOST). I'm hopefully sharing it with a friend (another Grad student and TA), who is growing flowers and herbs. I will be growing lettuce, spinach, green beans, snow peas (sugar snap), tomatoes, and a bunch of other stuff, including basil and some other herbs as well. I have my almanac flagged and noted for the best planting days, so I'm ready.

Otherwise, I'm working everyday at stripping and sanding and gluing and staining antique and not-so-antique furniture over at HFF. My boss is building a house for himself and his wife and baby, so I'll probably be back and forth, maintaining the shop and helping build the house.

In fact, I have to cut this short, as I have to go get ready to head over there right now. More updates soon. Enjoy the weather!

the best icanhascheezburger? post EVAR.

2007-05-19T16:54:00.000-05:00

nom nom nom

Don't we all feel this way?

2007-05-15T12:18:00.000-05:00

If Someone Wanted To Publish My Blog Entries For Money, I Wouldn't Say No

Spring has sprung

2007-05-06T21:40:00.000-05:00

Caffeine is pretty cool.

2007-04-24T04:18:00.000-05:00

In general, each of the following contains approximately 200 milligrams of caffeine:

One 200 milligram caffeine pill
One 12 oz cup of regular Starbucks coffee
One and one quarter 16 fluid ounce cans of Monster Energy (590 millilitres)
One and a half pounds of milk chocolate (680 grams)
Two 8 fluid ounce containers of regular coffee (470 millilitres)
1/2 tube of Spazzstick Caffeinated Lip Balm
Two Foosh Energy Mints
Two Buzz Bites Chocolate Energy Chews
Two and a half 10 oz. bottles of Bawls caffeinated drink (740 millilitres)
Three standard Excedrin pills
Three 8 fluid ounce cups of Red Bull energy drink (710 millilitres)
Four 8 fluid ounce cups of Vault energy drink (1.0 litre)
Five 1 fluid ounce shots of espresso from robusta beans (150 millilitres)
Five 8 fluid ounce cups of black tea (1.2 litres)
Five 8 fluid ounce cups of Mountain Dew (1.2 litres)
Five 12 fluid ounce cans of typical soda pop (1.8 litres) (variable)
Eight and a half 8 fluid ounce cups of Coca-Cola Classic (2.0 litres)
Ten 8 fluid ounce cups of green tea (2.4 litres)
Fifty 8 fluid ounce cups of decaffeinated coffee (12 litres)

erf day

2007-04-23T02:30:00.000-05:00

The Jolly Green giant and Sprout
at the earth day fair on Huguenot St.

Weirdest mascot ever. It's a cat for UCAT
(Ulster County Area Transit). Get it? CAT for U-CAT? Oh ho, so catchy and clever. And a bit frightening.

More flood pics

2007-04-17T14:30:00.000-05:00

Taken from the Jacobsen Faculty Tower
at SUNY New Paltz. All that water isn't supposed
to be there-- that's a flood plain.

Note the poles with powerlines,
curving off to the left-- that's Rte. 32.
If you follow it back, you can just barely see the bridge (greenish) on the right.

The red brick building in the lower right is
my complex-- you can see the freestanding
treeline behind there, half under water.

Further along Rte.32.

skunky skunkster skunkerd

2007-04-17T02:31:00.000-05:00

Our night-visitor, the Skunk. S/He likes to waddle around and eat worms. S/He's beautiful and s/he dances around her/his own tail.

There is another skunk that I'd love to get a picture of, we saw her/him last summer, and her/his colors are reversed! Mostly white with a black shock running down his back, I've never seen anything like him/her.

This double-pronoun thing is exhausting. Anyone know how to sex a skunk from afar?

Wallkill River Flood

2007-04-16T14:21:00.000-05:00

The road is out, the Flats are completely underwater.
The river crests at ~13' and it must be closer to 15' now.
I'm not sure whether it's still rising.

I considered moving into one of these apartments; the landlord said "of course, you'll have to have flood insurance, as we live on a 100-year flood plain."

Needless to say, we didn't take it. A good thing, too, as there have been two major floods in as many years.
It's terrible though--all the folks that live in that entire building have been evacuated at least until Thursday.

Grocer's Apostrophe's

2007-04-15T19:41:00.000-05:00

and a sampling here, on flickr.

Thank's for looking.

Sunday, and I can breathe for a minute...

2007-04-15T16:37:00.000-05:00

This weekend, I presented my paper, "Apocalyptic Alchemy and the Transformative Path of the Shaman: The Modern Mythopoeia of Can't Get No," at the New York College English Association conference.
(pdf of the program is here)

It was received pretty well, I think, although the text itself isn't so well-known outside of those familiar with the graphic novel genre.

Now I can concentrate on all the other things, seminar presentations and papers, all due within a couple weeks.

Today was spent mostly in bed, between sleeping and listening to the rain fall outside the window, clearing my head.

Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., 1922 — 2007

2007-04-12T22:22:00.000-05:00

excellent MetaFilter Obituary Thread here.

Don't use However to start a sentence: use But instead

2007-04-12T22:20:00.000-05:00

via Language Log

RUNNING TURKEY

2007-04-11T19:27:00.000-05:00

A spooked turkey, running into the bushes. (for Mal)
He saw me and ran for his life.

moon

2007-04-11T02:02:00.000-05:00

it's a face, alright.

four (and twenty) blackbirds

2007-04-09T23:23:00.000-05:00

a murder of crows.

this guy was running the show.

nacht-kirche

2007-04-03T09:23:00.000-05:00

Representative Poetry On-line

2007-03-29T01:32:00.000-05:00

Representative Poetry On-line: Editor's Introduction

"Representative Poetry Online, version 3.0, includes 3,162 English poems by 500 poets from Caedmon, in the Old English period, to the work of living poets today."

S*ut the fu@k up you G@d D----d Son of a B|t(h

2007-03-28T14:48:00.000-05:00

Language Log: The history of typographical bleeping

my class!

2007-03-28T01:18:00.000-05:00

1422	ENG160	08	Freshman Composition 1	3	MW	0830-0945			Sherwood, James	COMP, EEW, IL, LA

police dispatched

2007-03-22T23:04:00.000-05:00

image in a puddle.

Happy second day of Spring.

french pressed

2007-03-20T21:37:00.000-05:00

hooray
for
coffee.

hallucinatory drive

2007-03-19T08:02:00.000-05:00

tall americano, two extra shots

pack of smokes

loud music cycling through

techno, to folk-rock, to jazz--

back again.

green and chrome and

burning stars in the sky

the tread leans tight into

the salted road--

going home.

seen on campus today...

2007-03-15T02:32:00.000-05:00

No words for this.

antique doll

2007-03-13T23:01:00.000-05:00

Old dolls are almost always weird.
This one seems to be ready to tell us something.