It’s been four days since my last confession, Blogger, but in a rare switcheroo, I was busy talking smack over on my little-used LiveJournal account, commenting on the debacle that was the 2004 National Poetry Slam. I won’t get into it here other than to say, while I feel bad for those who attended and
FLATLAND: The Village Gar’tor
By St. Cuthbert’s beard, I signed up for the military to kill Orcs! Kobolds and half-orcs and the ignorant humans willing to deal with them were not what I’d expected. Never mind the undead! If I wasn’t disappointed when they split Leoroar and I into different units, I certainly was when I fell beneath the
FLATLAND: Prologue
SAMUEL FLETCHER Ought-Seven:UE (Unasian Era) By the age of thirty-seven, Samuel Fletcher had cheated death more times than he could recall, thanking Olidammara at every opportunity. Taken from his village and pressed into military service at 15 years old, he’d come of age during a violent and lawless time, spending his next fifteen years fighting
The New Stuff
For Rich Villar I remember the new stuff. When it hit the mic raw and risky like homemade sushi more interested in the flavor than the presentation. We were too hungry for pretense. I remember the new stuff. When it burst from the heart like a ball of fire through an origami parade
It was a year ago, almost to the day, that I went to St. Mark’s Comics with Omar and got hooked on comic books again. “Hooked” in that crackhead sense, apparently, as after buying a legit box for them, I’ve realized the sense of control I thought I had over what, and how much, I
Between my internet connection at work being screwy all day and Blogspot.com seemingly on the blink, the post I started writing earlier was lost. It was about the difference between Batman and Superman and a comment director Wolfgang Petersen made about it. Petersen was apparently attached to a Batman vs. Superman movie that was scrapped
Wole Soyinka has this quote, “The tiger does not sing his tigritude.” But, I think that if the tiger entered a world of leopards, he probably would. — Mara Jebsen Apropos of nothing, I just love how Mara’s mind works and her writing is second-to-none. This weekend was…tiring and counterproductive. Short, aimless getaways just don’t
I. Poetry Slam, Inc. Two poetry slam-related things I never expected to see: 1. Taylor Mali is the new President of Poetry Slam. Inc. 2. This. The Taylor thing is actually an interesting wrinkle that could mean PSI becoming relevant again. People may not agree with Taylor’s positions on a lot of things but there’s
Hit Urbana last night after the pleasantly unexpected distraction of 50%-off sushi. FRESH sushi! Yum. Got there in time for the slam which, to my surprise, I kind of enjoyed. Over the years, Cristin has become my favorite host on the scene, hands down. She knows her audience, has impeccable comedic skills and timing, and
The feedback from louder than words has been great. Much of it overwhelmingly positive, and where there was critique, it was generally offered honestly and clearly. Eric, Helen, Diane and I met Tuesday night to digest it all and tweak the format in a way that puts more emphasis on – and sets aside more