film noir for the brain

i have a friend named marty. he is retired from the political lobby, reads non-stop, and is from new mexico so i really enjoy when he comes to visit. he reads to the blind every week. very altruistic. yesterday marty told me about a friend of his. this friend is a play-write. he has a project going that is really curious. he is keeping a personal history and catalogue of his thoughts. i don't know how long this has been going, but i got the impression it's a long-standing tradition for this man. ok. so you are thinking "what's the big deal?" well, the deal is that this man is doing this project without the slightest notion of self-censorship. think about it. recording the darkest, most personal, inappropriate, shameful thoughts to even make a pass through your mind. we all have these moments when we think, "oh, my goodness. that is so wrong. where in the world did that come from?" the friend is rightly afraid of anyone finding his chronicle. apparently, only his brother knows where this collection is hidden; and he has sworn to retrieve and destroy the works immediately after the author passes on. i imagine it as something like the myriad composition notebooks found in john doe's apartment in "seven."

i think if i were to attempt an experiment like this i would be frightened of discovery. obviously, it would be very awkward to have another person read these most intimate thoughts; but self discovery would seem to hold the most frightening potential. what would my brain be capable of producing if the unmentionables i currently notice weren't censored, but were instead documented? the optimist might say not much would change, but i think i know better. as pastor maclean put it," man by nature was a damn mess and had fallen from an original state of grace."

so, here's to my old friend superficiality. you'll always have an open seat at my table.

you want to step outside, beulah ?!

this week is national banned book week. i'm not sure of the purpose of this week-long endeavor; but, it may be something like this- those of us with functioning brains celebrate our cerebral triumph over book-burners by buying, talking about, and reading books that are supposed to lead us right into the devil's grasp. well, that's not exactly fair. under-informed religious zealots aren't the only morons desirous of book banning/burning. left-leaning pious busy-bodies think we're too stupid to think for ourselves, so they must protect us from ourselves ,too.

the books on the list of 100 most frequently challenged is unbelievable. a few of my favorites:

"the adventures of huckleberry finn" and "tom sawyer" because if we read the word "nigger" we will obviously be compelled to go lynch someone of color that same day. harry potter in all his incarnations. surely, if you read a fantasy book about kids who do magic; you'll be worshipping satan and having his child. "of mice and men" and "the grapes of wrath" use racial slurs and profanity and promote non- traditional values. sounds like a lovely evening at our house; what's the problem? books like "the outsiders", " catcher in the rye", "slaughter house five", and the works of judy bloom try to help teenagers examine their world though the eyes of characters who may be seeking solutions to the same feelings or problems as the reader. what a horrible concept. how dare they try to help kids through the utopia that is adolescence?

these are just a few of my favorite choices from the list.

a few years ago we went to cloudcroft, new mexico for christmas. jackson was 2 years old and as cute as ever. we stayed at the lodge at cloudcroft and it snowed everyday we were there. it was really ideal. one of the local newspapers is the alomogordo something-or-another and i read it each day. there was a 2 day series in the paper that week concerning an interview with a baptist preacher in town. his "church" was hosting a good old-fashioned book burning on the saturday immediately after christmas. what better way to celebrate the giver of light, than by producing a huge bonfire in his honor? in the interview, the preacher told how the material of choice for burning was harry potter , but all things produced by lucifer were welcomed. he told the reporter that although the books are filled with seemingly innocuous stories of self-discovery and fun; they contained stories of magic and witchcraft. apparently, even though they appear to be "good" wizards and witches; this is impossible because all magic is born of satan. whoops! i'm sure jk rowling is embarrassed to find this out only now. this good reporter asked the preacher about books like "the chronicles of narnia" and "the wizard of oz" both written by pretty well known christians. the heroes of both book series use "good" magic or magical talismans in their quests to set things right. she points out that both series are available in the library of the school run by said church. well, predictably, the good reverend -mental giant that he is- tells us that the magic used by these characters is good because it is used to defeat evil. huh? excuse me! wow, you really are as dumb as you look. heil hitler, herr himmler.

please, go get yourself a book to read. it doesn't matter what. the bible? read up, i will too. it's great. "lord of the flies?" good choice. just stay away from the pig, and make sure you hand over the conch as soon as i require it. i would recommend you stay away from "little black sambo." everyone knows that little boys in africa were never black, they didn't wear clothes, and they surely never went walking through the jungle at the suggestions of their mothers. besides, even if they did; it is categorically wrong to create a fable about fooling a tiger into chasing his own tail until he turned into butter. we all know black kids are too dumb to do anything good . right? i can only wish someone would have been there to save me from that blasphemous drivel when i was a kid. p. s. "little black sambo" was one of the first books i bought for my son when i found out my wife was pregnant. and he loves it.

anyone have jeff gillooly's email address?

please! go away! i beg you to stop where you are, retire permanently, and then feel free to inject all the human growth hormone and horse tranquilizers you can possibly carry back from tijuana.

cephalic gridlock

i think i may be ready to decapitate myself.

when i was 16 years old, my parents took me to an allergist to have me analyzed. in those days i had to lie on my back- very still - for 30 to 40 minutes. a very nice lady walked in with what i believe was an ice pick. she proceeded to puncture and tear the skin in about 100 different places on my back. if i had known the levels of pain reserved for me in later years, i would have considered this to be insignificant. at the time it didn't feel great. then, when she put serum derived from different allergens on each wound, i really felt excited. many of them burned as they seeped into the skin. when the good doctor returned, he examined the reactions created and was very impressed. as he was also a professor at u.t., he asked my permission to photograph my back to be used as an instructive tool to show students how large reactions can get. a badge of honor has really turned into a lead weight around my neck. it turns out that i'm allergic to almost everything.

i'm pretty sure charlotte has played a joke on me. it may be that as i slept she poured 1/4 cup of masonry mortar in each nostril. is it normal to be able to squeeze absolutely no air through your nose? i didn't think so either. and when i talk, i sound like elmer fudd. nice. if i remove my eyeballs and use a belt-sander on them; i'm wondering if it will affect my prescription. i just got new glasses and i don't want to endanger that investment. also, i actually had to pull out the nebulizer and pulmocort yesterday. it is completely unnatural to struggle to breath as if the 400 pound gorilla is on your chest instead of your back.

with all of the crap the pharmaceutical industry has to offer; it amazes me that there isn't anything that works better. and don't try to convince me on local honey or echinacea. they're pretty useless, too.

it is reasonably depressing to me that as much as i love texas, i'm allergic to almost eveything in it. talk about your rotten luck. by the way, what on earth is ragweed, anyway? and why hasn't agent orange been properly employed? can i blame that on mayor nagin and governor blanco, too?

i'll see your barton springs and raise you a blue hole

i like barton springs. i can't begin to estimate the number of times i have swum there. on a hot, humid day, barton's pool is a real life saver. once you regain the ability to inhale oxygen, you'll notice you're in a real place of beauty. as much as i like barton springs, i'm not in love with it as the premier swimming spot in the hemisphere. if you live around austin, you'll notice the very popular dogma of revering a wide spot in a creek as an aqueous mecca. "the waters are healing" is what we're led to believe. you become one with nature. ok. i'm glad you love it ; i think it's pretty cool, too. and on a good day, there's almost enough room to swim 6 full strokes without smacking someone in the head.

here's my argument for why blue hole far surpasses barton's as a superlative home of aquatic bliss. barton wants me to pay money to swim in a creek, while my place is free. ooh, you have a diving board. how very country club of you. i prefer to leap from a cliff into 81 feet of unbelievably clear, blue water. while your pool is closed to clean the pool and remove the sewage that has flowed downstream into the "pristine waters," i'll be diving into unsullied waters bubbling up from the aquifer where it has been cleaned and filtered as mother nature intended. i've never been to blue hole when the crowd remotely approached barton's typical summer attendance. while 67 degrees is very refreshing on a summer afternoon, 61 is truly memorable.

now for the bad part: while i can drive to barton's in 45 minutes; it is 700 miles to blue hole. what did you think? this isn't a fairy tale. if blue hole were so easily available you'd be there too. well, i guess i'm lucky i love the san marcos river as much as i do.

my theory of relativity (or edison's 2001)

my whole life i've been told that keeping a journal, or personal history, would be of great value. i've started more times than i can remember, but i have always petered out before long. i love my computer, so i'm hoping this new format will help with the ability to be consistent. here's hoping.

in the "rule of four" by ian caldwell and dustin thomason i found a sentence that has occupied my mind for some time: "it was the strange but predictable consequence of their friendship that it left them more solitary than when they began." when i reflect on the history of my friendships, i can only find one person with whom i really am close after proximity was removed. i suppose that in some way i regret the loss of familiarity in these other relationships ;but, generally speaking, i don't really notice the absence. i think that is the strangest part of it all. the return to my natural state of solitary confinement is one that virtually goes unnoticed. i don't mean to imply that i am not friendly with these who have previously held such seemingly irreplaceable positions in my life. i am merely observing that their places of necessity always seem to dissipate.

wyatt earp was a true believer in the infallibility of the family bond. when it really came down to it, the only persons in whom he would place unwavering trust were his family (ok doc holliday,too.) i feel vaguely similar. my family are the ones whose positions in my life will never diminish.

a story of my life would have to begin with my wife and son. i love them without reservation. nothing i do is replete unless it includes them in some fashion. i love to be with them, or to talk to them, or just to remember something we shared. perhaps one day i will learn the appropriate words to tell them how much i need them. for now, these will have to suffice.

gibralter and the north star

all of us in june 2004