Music Box and Moonflowers

At the end of the day at Grandpa's house, there wasn't much talking and no tales were told, even for the first time. Sometimes we all sat listening to a music box play.

There was a rack pulled out from inside the music box; we could see it holding shining metal discs as large as silver waiters, with teeth around the edges, and pierced with tiny holes in the shape of triangles or stars, like the tissue-paper patterns by which my mother cut out cloth for my dresses. When the discs began to turn, taking hold by their little teeth, a strange, chimelike music came about.

Its sounds had no kinship with those of "His Master's Voice" that we could listen to at home. They were thin and metallic, not exactly keeping to time--rather as if the spoons in the spoonholder had started a quiet fretting among themselves. Whatever song it was was slow and halting and remote, as if the music box were playing something I knew as well as "Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms" but did not intend me to recognize. It seemed to be reaching the parlor from far away. It might even have been the sound going through the rooms and up and down the stairs of our house in Jackson at night while all of us were here in Ohio, too far from home even to hear the clock striking from the downstairs hall. While we listened, there at the open window, the moonflowers opened little by little, and the song continued like a wire spring allowing itself slowly, slowly to uncoil, then just stopped trying. Music and moonflower might have been geared to moved together.

Then, in my father's grown-up presence, I could not imagine him as a child in this house, the sober way he looked in the little daguerreotype, motherless in his fair bangs and heavy little shoes, sitting on one foot. Now I look back, or listen back, in the same desire to imagine, and it seems possible that the sound of that sparse music, so faint and unearthly to my childhood ears, was the sound he'd had to speak to him in all that country silence among so many elders where he was the only child. To me it was a sound of unspeakable loneliness that I did not now how to run away from. I was there in its company, watching the moonflower open.

--Eudora Welty, "One Writer's Beginnings"

i carry your heart with me

i carry your heart with me

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear
no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my
world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

-- e.e. cummings

may my heart always be open

may my heart always be open

may my heart always be open to little birds
who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it’s sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young
and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there’s never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile

-- e.e. cummings

Returning

Returning

I was walking in a dark valley and above me the tops of the hills had caught the morning light.
I heard the light singing as it went among the grassblades and the leaves.
I waded upward through the shadow until my head emerged,
my shoulders were mantled with the light,
and my whole body came up out of the darkness,
and stood on the new shore of the day.
Where I had come was home,
for my own house stood white where the dark river wore the earth.
The sheen of bounty was on the grass, and the spring of the year had come.

-- Wendell Berry

The Peace of Wild Things

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.
I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind starts waiting with their light.
For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

--Wendell Berry

Norman Mailer Quote

What a genius.

"There's one good thing about old age that people don't recognize. Which is that if you have a reasonable old age, as I do, in that you're not in pain, and you're not in terrible trouble emotionally with your children, or your mate, then what happens is you cool. And you finally are cool in a way that you never were before. And you realize that you won and you lost, and that's just what happens to everyone else. They win and they lose also. And what you didn't succeed in doing, you didn't succeed in doing, so fuck it."

--Norman Mailer

Roast Beef Recipe

Gracie Allen's Classic Recipe for Roast Beef

1 large Roast beef

1 small Roast beef

Take the two roasts and put them in the oven. When the little one burns, the big one is done.

It's Creepy Nightmare Time!

Damn, I'm a Great Dancer!

What's Wrong with This Picture?

Willie Nelson Immortalized

Authentic Times Square Graffiti

Puta's Fever (nice rack, ladies) - LP

Nice to be with you LP NICE!

Say What you Feel

1990 Japanisms

Japanisms from Michael's 1990 Japan Tour

Instructions posted on the back of a hotel room door:

"Preparing for the worst, please check the fire exits guide."
"Please keep the arm guard stopper turned on when you are in the room."
"Please contact front office if there is anything strange."
==============================
Sign in Train Station: I FEEL COKE!
==============================
Menu item from Matenro, a Chinese Restaurant in Tokyo

#44: Fried crap with sweet and sour sauce
==============================
Explanatory notes on a box of chocolates:

"Chocolate has a long, dramatic, and glorious history. The bitter drink made in ancient Latin America had become the very excellent sweets. And now it's our pleasure to taste such luxurious chocolates, but before that we had to overcome lots of difficulties to make such delicious sweets. Thinking of this, we are sure to find the charm of cacao beans and passion and intelligence of humankinds."
==============================
Strip of waxed paper found stretched across the toilet bowl in my hotel room after returning at the end of the day:

"SANITARIZED"
==============================
Imprinted on a bandana for sale at a gift shop at the base of Mount Fuji

"I like bricks! I can build it six highest. I'm going to challenge to build them 10 highest. Don't you try with me?"
==============================
Imprinted on the outside of a cardboard "Domino's" pizza box:

"It looks delicious. That's a stance of Domino's…we will be happ to remake the pizza…"
==============================
Sign above toilet in hotel in Tokyo:

"Please do not dump foreign bodies into toilet."
==============================
On a random piece of paper in a train station:

"Scare be not kit me knee a crew,
Me course Lee hang get kill Joke.
Not curry! Not curry!
OH! What A Bin-Bin Night."
==============================
Sheet of instructions and warnings found in hotel room in Komaki-City

Not to give annoyance to the others by making a great noise or disgusting behaviors.
Not to carry the followings into the room or the hallway:

1. Animals, Birds, etc.
2. Things with loathsome smell.
3. Items of great quantity.
4. Explosive items such as powder, gasoline, etc.
5. Illegally owned guns and swords.

[legally owned ones must be fine]

Not to gamble or behave in a demoralizing manner in this hotel.
Not to fix other items to the room or the furnitures, or work up to after those existing situations.
Not to delivertising matters to the other guests in this hotel.
==============================
"Pizza California" menu blurb:

"Hang up the phone and bask in the joy of happy anticipation. Blue skies and hot pizza from "California" and we're raring to launch a little party."
==============================
Sugar packet blurb:

"Floral Décor: Flowers will speak for themselves even in the simplest jug."

"Decorating with flowers -- from a single rose stem to a houseful of arrangements, frowers always have their own sense of occasion."
==============================

Cat Haiku

The food in my bowl
Is old, and more to the point,
Contains no tuna.

So you want to play.
Will I claw at dancing string?
Your ankle's closer.

There's no dignity
In being sick - which is why
I don't tell you where.

Seeking solitude
I am locked in the closet.
For once I need you.

Tiny can, dumped in
Plastic bowl. Presentation,
One star; service, none.

Am I in your way?
You seem to have it backwards:
This pillow's taken.

Your mouth is moving;
Up and down, emitting noise.
I've lost interest.

The dog wags his tail,
Seeking approval. See mine?
Different message.

My brain: walnut-sized.
Yours: largest among primates.
Yet, who leaves for work?

Most problems can be
Ignored. The more difficult
Ones can be slept through.

My affection is conditional.
Don't stand up,
It's your lap I love.

Cats can't steal the breath
Of children. But if my tail's
Pulled again, I'll learn.

I don't mind being
Teased, any more than you mind
A skin graft or two.

So you call this thing
Your "cat carrier." I call
it my "blades of death."

Toy mice, dancing yarn,
Meowing sounds. I'm convinced:
You're an idiot.

Homosexual Agenda

You've heard Pat Robertson, Jerry Falwell and others speak of the "Homosexual Agenda," but no one has ever seen a copy of it. Well, someone managed to sneak into Homosexual Headquarters and got a copy...Here it is:

The Homosexual Agenda

6 a.m. Gym

8 a.m. Breakfast (oatmeal and eggwhites)

9 a.m. Hair appointment

10 a.m. Shopping (Macy's or Nordstrom's)

12 p.m. Brunch

2 p.m.
(1) Assume complete control of U.S. Federal, state, and local governments, as well as all the other national governments
(2) Destroy all healthy marriages
(3) Replace all school counselors in grades K-12 with militant homosexuals who seek to recruit children for the homosexual lifestyle
(4) Bulldoze all houses of worship
(5) Seize control of Internet and all other media
(6) Be utterly fabulous

3 p.m. Beauty rest to prevent facial wrinkles from the stresses of world conquest, followed by aromatherapy

4 p.m. Cocktails

5 p.m. Light dinner (soup, salad with arugula & balsamic vinegar dressing, Chardonnay)

8 p.m. Theater

10 p.m. Cocktails in a charming neighborhood bistro

12 a.m. Bed (du jour)

Tits

Courtesy of "The Onion", issue of Saturday, 18 September 1954

New Magazine, 'Playboy,' Offers Astute Literary Criticism, Tits

CHICAGO, Ill. -- 'Playboy', a new upscale magazine for urban sophisticates and men-about-town that details all the aspects of today's educated-bachelor lifestyle, arrived at newsstands this week. Described as "entertainment for men" by editor/publisher Hugh M. Hefner, the glossy periodical will feature up-to-the-minute, ultra-modern articles on fashion, home furnishings, golf accessories and hi-fi sound systems, as well as informative pieces on the arts. Among the literary talents appearing in 'Playboy' will be such important contemporary writers as John Updike, Norman Mailer and noted essayist Truman Capote.

Hefner also stressed that the magazine will feature full-color photographs of naked tits.

"What kind of a man reads 'Playboy'?" asked Hefner, reclining on a crushed-velvet divan in his Chicago high-rise suite, swirling a brandy snifter as light jazz played in the background. "A man who is urbane, yet sporting. A man who appreciates fine wine and smooth cigars. One capable of savoring the delicate subtleties and deft turns of phrase in the finest contemporary fiction being published today."

"He is also," Hefner said, "a man who appreciates the sight of a robust pair of glistening, naked tits."

Initial reaction to the publication has been mixed, largely due to readers' indifference to ultra-modern articles on fashion, home furnishings, golf accessories and hi-fi sound systems, and their overpowering desire to view photographs of succulent, protruding, naked tits.

Hefner remains confident that, in time, his venture will grow into an unqualified success. "I envision myself cultivating important relationships with the greatest writers of this generation, earning a reputation as a publisher of cutting-edge fiction and non-fiction," he said.

"I also foresee an assortment of mansions across the country, through which I will stride, clad only in garish silk pajamas, surrounded by beautiful bouncing tits at all times."

Hefner explained that 'Playboy's' next issue will feature an article by noted critic and journalist Terry Southern, as well as a new work by award-winning author John Cheever.

"And," he said, "I cannot overemphasize this particular point: There will also be color photographs of enormous naked tits."

Teresa

Dear Diary: An angelic-looking youngster of about 8, with blond bangs and a baseball cap, is traveling on the 66th Street crosstown bus with his nanny. They are joshing and teasing each other in a way that is clearly a routine. "You are so small," he says, "and you put Jello in your hair." This tickles her and she laughs. "I'm not as small as you," she says. "You put Jello in your hair." He thinks for a moment. "I know someone even smaller than you," he says, seriously. "Who's that?" "Teresa Stratas."

NYU Application

This is an actual essay written by a college applicant to NYU. The author was accepted and is now attending NYU. [or was, in 1995, when I first read this...]

3a. IN ORDER FOR THE ADMISSIONS STAFF OF OUR COLLEGE TO GET TO KNOW YOU, WE ASK THAT YOU ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTION: ARE THERE ANY SIGNIFICANT EXPERIENCES YOU HAVE HAD, OR ACCOMPLISHMENTS YOU HAVE REALIZED, THAT HAVE HELPED TO DEFINE YOU AS A PERSON?

"I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently.

Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.

I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing; I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.

Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello; I was scouted by the Mets; I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.

I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat .400.

My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.

I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations with the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.

I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four-course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven.

I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin.

I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.

But I have not yet gone to college."

Lovecraft

Courtesy of "THE ONION" issue of Friday, 30 April 1937

Nation Escapes Depression Through Fanciful Works of H.P. Lovecraft

Fantastical Tales of Better Times Allow Readers to Forget Troubles

Though times may be hard, Americans of all ages are forgetting their troubles with the help of beloved fantasy author H.P. Lovecraft. The recently deceased "Weird Tales" contributor transports readers to a happier land of sanity-sapping prehuman subterranea, helping folks everywhere put aside their cares and take a delightfully diverting trip to Lovecraftland.

"When the narrator recoils in horror at the non-Euclidean alien geometries of the dreaded Sleeping Elder God Cthulhu's undersea tomb, I was in dreamland, wishing my own life could be so merry," said reader Gus Derleth, an unemployed quarryman from Wisconsin. "If only I, too, could be plagued by the shifting gelatinous menace of Shub-Niggurath, Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young."

Lovecraft's pulp fiction has won its way into the hearts of readers eager for hope. "His disturbed, paranoid tales of unknowable crawling madness serve as a welcome respite for many people suffering through the Depression," Yale University literature professor Paul Slocombe said. "Lovecraft makes readers wish their own lives were as romantic and carefree as those in his stories, like the Mad Arab Abdul Alhazred, who pens the forbidden Necronomicon only to be devoured alive by invisible demons in front of screaming onlookers."

Lovecraft's gay yarns lift the spirit and take readers' minds off the difficulties of daily life. "The Dunwich Horror" tells the uplifting story of a half-human abomination born of a human woman and Yog-Sothoth, an ancient, extra-dimensional being worshiped by a half-mad death cult. And the much-beloved "Pickman's Model" has won wide popularity of a tortured painter consorting with hideous subterranean perversities too gruesome to face the light of day.

Of course, such optimism can only exist in fiction. But, in our reality, victims of these dreary times need only open a Lovecraft book to take an exciting trip to a far-off land where alien beings "construct mighty basalt cities of windowless towers, preying horribly on the minds of all they find there."

Would that real life were so grand!

Cushy

courtesy of "The Onion" issue of 26 April 2000

You probably won't believe me when I tell you that new Cushy™-brand bathroom tissue is the softest, most absorbent bathroom tissue you'll ever try. Heck, I was skeptical at first, too! Even after learning about Cushy's™ specially quilted "Moistu-Weave" inlay, I still thought, "Come on! How much better could one bathroom tissue be than another?" But once you've felt for yourself the heavenly sensation of a folded-up wad of Cushy™ sliding across your excrement-smeared anus, you're sure to agree: Cushy™ is the most luxurious tissue you'll ever wipe your ass with!

Wow! When it comes to getting your rectal opening clean as a whistle, removing every last trace of stinking, disgusting fecal matter from the puckered surface of the human anus, Cushy™ just can't be beat! Its patented, three-ply "Feces-Grabbing Action" has been specially designed by scientists to wipe away 30 percent more human dung from the anal region than the leading brand--even in those problem "hairy" areas where tiny balls of shit can get trapped for days! When it comes to making sure my asshole's been wiped right, I trust Cushy™. As the commercial says, "With Cushy™, I Know My Ass Is Clean!®"

And Cushy™ is more than just the most absorbent product ever designed, manufactured, and marketed for the purpose of wiping human waste from the rectal region; it's also the softest. I can't believe how good it feels pressed up against my asshole! Sure, I thought the leading brand was good, but after trying Cushy™, I could scarcely believe the difference! Compared to the sumptuous comfort of Cushy™, the leading brand feels like a portable electric belt-sander grinding my ass down to a chafed and bloody pulp! Wiping with Cushy™, on the other hand, feels as if the defecation residue between my legs is being spirited away on the back of a pillowy-soft cartoon cloud! It's enough to make a person open up a window and shout to the world, "Shit, I Love This Ass-Paper!®"

Cushy™ goes the extra mile to make sure my anus feels pampered like a dainty princess. That's because Cushy™'s not just about getting your ass free of shit particles. It's about treating your entire backside to a feeling of cushiony goodness. It's what the good folks at Global Tetrahedron Forestries, manufacturers of Cushy™, like to call "T.A.C."--Total Asshole Comfort.™ Doesn't your asshole deserve a little T.A.C.?

Your anal region, from your ass cheeks to your dilated sphincter to the interior of your anal column itself, works hard for you each day. Isn't it time you gave a little something back? With Cushy™, my asshole feels as if it's being gently wafted skyward on a freshly scented summer breeze! Try getting that level of comfort from those bargain brands!

Do the other brands offer patented three-ply quilted comfort? Are they lightly perfumed and softened with soothing aloe-based moisturizing lotions? Do they offer Cushy™'s exclusive "Complete Asshole Guarantee®"? Of course not. Whether you've got a thin, runny liquid, a huge, bulky chunk, or even one of those hard-to-wipe, viscous-sludge-type defecations, Cushy™ not only has the absorbency needed to wipe your ass completely free of sticky, after-shit smears and stains; it's gentle enough to make your puckered butthole feel like the King of Siam, reclining on a mound of the finest silk pillows in all of Asia.

Sure, Cushy™ costs a bit more than less ass-pampering brands, but my ass is worth it! Cushy™ is so soft, sometimes I want to take a shit even when I don't have to! Once you've seen for yourself how wonderful, how majestic, how truly awe-inspiring this new bathroom tissue is, you'll know why people say, "Cushy™... You're Gonna Shit Your Pants!©"

Confucius Say...

Confucius Say...
1. Virginity like bubble, one prick -- all gone.
2. Man who run in front of car get tired.
3. Man who run behind car get exhausted.
4. Man with hand in pocket feel cocky all day.
5. Foolish man give wife grand piano, wise man give wife upright organ.
6. Man who walk through airport turnstile sideways going to Bangkok.
7. Man with one chopstick go hungry.
8. Man who scratch ass should not bite fingernails.
9. Man who eat many prunes get good run for money.
10. Baseball is wrong; man with four balls cannot walk.
11. Panties not best thing on earth, but next to best thing on earth.
12. War does not determine who is right; war determine who is left.
13. Wife who put husband in doghouse soon find him in cat house.
14. Man who fight with wife all day get no piece at night.
15. It take many nails to build crib, only one screw to fill it.
16. Man who drive like hell bound to get there.
17. Man who stand on toilet is high on pot.
18. Man who live in glass house should change clothes in basement.
19. Man who fish in other man's well often catch crabs.
20. Man who fart in church sit in own pew.
21. Crowded elevator smell different to midget.

High School English Essays

Many thanks to Heather for the following joyous examples of young creativity.
==========================
Every year, English teachers from across the country can submit their collections of actual analogies and metaphors found in high school essays. These excerpts are published each year to the amusement of teachers across the country. Here are last year's winners.

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances. Like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.

10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m., traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fence that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.

16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.