The way the world.

June 28, 2009

My brother (Pat) rolled into town this weekend with his ladyfriend and all around good gal Emalie & his friend and fellow photo-maker Brad. Pat is preparing for a move to Hutchinson, Kansas on Monday (tomorrow). So he spent the weekend here hangin’ out and sayin’ some temporary farewells. This led to many-an-interesting-experience. Upon his Thursday arrival we went over to his friend Maria’s place in Urbana, made sushi, went berry picking, and shot some arrows into haybails. Friday was spent enjoying Thai, exploring Walnut Street Tea, and wandering the streets of Urbana. We also hosted for ourselves a hummus party at my apartment. Things got classy. Upon realizing they had not much else to do, Pat and Emalie stuck around for an extra day to bum around. They finally parted ways this afternoon, and in turn my parents arrived and we too wandered about the downtown areas and checked out the Arboretum. I also bought a sweet new hat this weekend… and in a way, it’s as if I have always been wearing it. Anyhow, thanks to my brother’s sweet photographic action, there is extensive documentation of this weekend’s events. I’m sure he will have his favorites posted up on his blog in the next few days, but he granted me permission to post some here as well. Needless to say, however, I corrupted their integrity in photoshop. There are also a few of my own… I will give credit where it is due. Enjoy.


Frank Lloyd Wright and the Calendar of Cycles.

June 27, 2009

Today I learned that Frank Lloyd Wright is a wizard. Of the “Bard” class. This is, of course, is according to Paris Soulier. By his definitions on wizard taxonomy, the chance of me becoming a wizard is no longer chainedto the realm of fantasy. Harry Potter fans rejoice: wizardly ascension can become a reality. I will be among those rejoicing. If you recall: (memory). And, if I may, an excerpt from Soulier’s research: “As the Soul travels the evolutionary path, it selects a particular vocation, or combination of vocations, as to how it chooses to serve and render conscious creation.  There are four such vocations, manifesting in the world of affairs as one of the following types: Warriors, Wizards, Thieves, [and] Priests.” Further according to Soulier, our Souls follow these vocations based on what is known as “The Wizard Cycle.” Read more here. And. Well, that’s all I really have. I will let Soulier’s words speak for themselves.

My hobby: (1)

June 25, 2009

Using socially unacceptable words in a dictionary-defitionally correct context.

On the one day I forget a pen:
“Hey mate, can I molest you for something to write with?”
I received neither pen nor pencil.

Alternatively, using dictionary-definitionally incorrect words in homonyminally correct context (in speech you might not notice this, but it rears it’s linguistically entertaining head in text messages).

On asking my brother at what time he would be arriving for a visit & subsequenly receiving his response:
“OK sea yew dewed.”
What exactly is a piece of morning soaked driftwood doing in Oklahoma? Who can say.

On another note: I’ve got a working rough draft of my KGB contribution for this week, but with my brother coming to town and my day riddled with work and classes, we shall see by when I can edit and finally post it. May the stars shine kindly on my schedule and ability to not get utterly and completely distracted.

Update: Ha! I’ve overcome my slack-ethic. Check out the KGB Poetry Press. This week’s theme was “Space – the final frontier. Go where no man has gone before.” To the first half I set my purpose. To the second half I took liberty, focusing instead on where man has already been. My piece is titled “The She-Wolf.” Check it out.

Bad news / good news.

June 22, 2009

So, if you couldn’t deduce from my earlier post… today held some bad news. As it turns out, my bike received an above average daily dose of being stolen. See, usually the number of times my bike is stolen in a day is 0. Today it was 1. If you’re into math, you would know that is an incalculable increase in percentage of times stolen in a day. I don’t really do math myself, but I do know that the whole situation equates to a big Suck. Here’s the equation: My Bike – My Bike = Suck. If you’re a more vulgar kind of character, feel free to shift around some letters on the C side of the equation.

Now, I bet you’re tired of me turning math into words. Or words into math. Or talking about math in general. So let me enlighten you as to the good news half of my day (which is, in itself, divided into halves). First half: I took a lot of pictures today. I will post these. Second half: I went to the store today. County Market sells pickled herring. I bought some. I ate some. Third half: I got my apartment’s coffee maker working thanks to the magic of my friend Caitlyn bringing over some coffee filters. There. Non-math people happy? I’m pretty pleased with myself.

Upon waking.

June 22, 2009
I hold my bike lock this morning. And the bike? Stolen. Or run away. But my beliefs favor the former.

I hold my bike lock this morning. And the bike? Stolen. Or run away. But my beliefs favor the former.

Meeting Bob & what I saw there.

June 22, 2009

I spent the majority of my day wandering from place to place on campus. While documenting this adventure, an interesting thing happened around Boneyard Creek. A man approached me, had to be in his 70’s. No one else wears a fanny pack (tourists and my father aside). He introduced himself as Bob and asked me about my camera. More specifically, about what camera he should purchase (he has been thinking about getting a new one). I told him that he asked the wrong brother, that my brother is the photo-journalist and camera enthusiast of the family. But we kept talking, despite my lack of useful information. The conversation turned digital. Technology is amazing, isn’t it? We agreed. Though I admitted it had its limitations. There is a certain feeling in holding a book and turning the pages that cannot be achieved scrolling with a mouse on a screen. And a funny thing happened when I said this. Bob began to talk. Just to tell me things. As it turned out, he volunteers one day a week at the Champaign public library – digitizing books and poetry. I told him about my librarian parents, about my own job in the University stacks. He laughed, told me working in a library is the best job in the world. Though he hasn’t had much of a chance to travel, Bob finds worlds in books. The library has it all, he said. I believed him; I was raised to believe him. And the conversation took another unexpected turn: his current project has been digitizing the works of Carl Sandburg. He asked if I had heard of him, and I replied that I had not. My current project, Bob told me, should be reading the works of Carl Sandburg. He expounded on the author’s biography: a Swedish-American author born right here in Illinois (Galesburg to be precise). He asked if he was boring me. Quite truthfully, I said no. And we talked for nearly an hour. Finally, we shook hands and parted ways: me wishing him luck with his camera, Bob wishing me luck with my writing.

Father’s Day

June 21, 2009

Today is a rather special day. Father’s Day. A day when I celebrate my history in his story. If you couldn’t tell from all the posts mocking my transformation into my parents, I have a great deal of love for both of them. I hope this poem hits on that with a bit of a laugh. As in my last post on the KGB Poetry Press, I will post this poem for download via RapidShare. Why? Formatting. Anyhow, I wrote this for my father, but I hope more than just he enjoys it. So, without further ado, the link:


– Happy Father’s Day to my & all the fathers of the world. But mostly mine.