I had a conversation I kind of needed to have (karl rocks) and my ear feels better.
Like I said... queen of psychosomatic illness..
Dave keeps sending me Bill Hicks .wavs to cheer me up.
I'm easily amused, and I think it's working...
I delete tons of things on my webmail... I have almost nothing saved now... so NOW it tells me that I'm using more space than I have *ever* used.
People on automatic writer praise the silliest things.
I wasn't expecting praise for what I wrote, it just stuns me what gets the "ooh, that was good" responses, especially given the forum and what it is *supposed* to be about.
Every now and again there is something that breaks from the usual formula and is really impressive, but usually it's just some sap ass love poem that's repeating what's been said better by a billion other people.
Poetry is rarely about love, in my opinion...
well, good poetry anyway.
I *like* the concept of automatic writer.
I really love the free and easy, don't think about it, let it flow, ride the words, rambling thought is your friend concepts involved.
I wish more people would pay attention to them. UNLEASH your subconscious on the world.
"A Teaching-the-Conflicts English department says in effect to texpectant nineteen-year-olds --and Hobbs kindly wrote out this baffling lingo at my request--"Here is Husserlian phenomenology, here are the Jungian archetypes, here is Jakobsonian structuralism, here is Zizekian Lacanianism, here is Counterhegemonic Post-Gramscian Marxism, and here is the Deleuzoguattarian Anti-Oedipus; now you decide which hermeneutic should prevail." Thus a newly minted B.A. can step confidently into the greater world, not knowing Milton and Gray, perhaps, but knowing exactly how he would want to account for the magic of their art, should the occasion ever arise."
From Postmodern Pooh by Federick Crews, author of The Pooh Perplex, written 38 years ago and apparently quite the hit in circles of people who wanted to know just what it was the academia was spewing about literature (specifically the baffling array of deconstructions going on about Winnie the Pooh), and what was being taught to students.
my mom bought a bottel of shiraz.
Karl hath spoilt me with much better grapes.