Quote of the Day: William Faulkner

"Between grief and nothing I will take grief." By the way, that quote has no personal significance today so you can stop worrying about my mental health for the time being. I chose it because it was featured very prominently in a movie I watched last weekend and I've always liked it.


So I have a little problem at work that is starting to make me feel like George Costanza. One of the workers at the cafe that I eat lunch at every day hates me. I guess I should give a little background first so you don't think I'm paranoid.

About six months ago, I reevaluated my eating habits and realized there was a little room for improvement there so I decided to change them and start eating much healthier. (I've done a very good job, by the way, and it hasn't actually been that hard. The only thing I regret is that one time I turned down what was later described as "the best piece of Filet Mignon ever" for a piece of salmon). After a long night of soul-searching about what I should eat for lunch every day, I settled on the roast turkey sandwich downstairs at the deli because it seemed like the healthiest option besides packing my own lunch which is something I am never going to do because life is too short to eat soggy bread. So the meal I've ordered downstairs at the cafe practically every day for the past six months consists of a small dinner salad with oil and vinegar and roast turkey sandwich on dark rye with lettuce, onion, tomato, honey mustard, and nothing else - and I'm pretty strict about that. To be honest, the cafe is really not all that great. Sometimes the vegetables are less than lively and once I found wood chips in my cup. I keep going back though because it provides the one thing in life I crave almost more than anything else: consistency.

Now, I will cop to being a little picky and anal about my lunch menu and I think I deserve to because I have been a very loyal customer. I'm there every day, I always tip, I never complain when I find foreign objects floating in my water, and I waited patiently one time while they interviewed all the candidates for the open dishwasher position before they made my lunch even though I was hungry enough to eat my own arm. In short, I am the textbook definition of reliable. The place is ran by an Asian couple in their fifties and I like it when she makes my sandwich because it only took her a week to figure out what my usual was. She's also smart enough to figure out to put the sandwich in its own basket so the oil and vinegar from the salad didn't get the bread all soggy.

The guy they have working for them is another story altogether. Whenever he has to make it, he always try to put cheese on it and my salad. Even though I've told him like a hundred times not to put any cheese on anything, I can forgive him for that because there is a bit of a language barrier between us. At least he asks and leaves the choice up to me. One time, he didn't get a basket out for the sandwich when I asked him to so the owner told him to get me one while she rang up my food. He shook his head at me and said, "Stupid." Seriously. I didn't say anything because I was too surprised. I guess the Spanish and English words for "stupid" are very similar. He's given me the evil eye ever since that day. Everything came to a head last week when he refused to make my sandwich. He told the owner he wouldn't do it and ran into the back. She apologized and made the sandwich for me even though she was quite busy.

I don't know what to do about this guy and I'm not sure why it bothers me so much either. Maybe I am too much like George Costanza who once said, ""YES! YES, everyone MUST like me!" Don't get me wrong, there have been plenty of people throughout my life who haven't liked me (I know, shocking.) but those people all had semi-legitimate reasons. I need to find some way to neutralize my enemy. I've tried being friendly and talking to him but the old patented Collin charm is just not working as advertised. I guess I could go somewhere else for lunch; but you know what they say about the devil you know? For the record, that was a metaphor. I do not think the cafe worker is Satan.

Quote of the Day: Coventry Patmore

"The end of art is peace." Don't feel bad if you've never heard of Coventry Patmore because I hadn't heard of him until five minutes ago. (Thanks, Google.) I came across this quote this eekend in the liner notes of the CD "The Best of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds." It made me glad that I still listen to CD's because I never would have found this wonderful quote on an iPod. Anyway, the notes were using this quote to liken Nick Cave to W.B. Yeats who actually popularized the saying; they were two restless souls who found some kind of peace by creating great art. Saturday night was my first attempt to systematically listen to Nick Cave's music and I have to say that I was blown away. It's really unlike anything else I've ever listened to before. Just think of the most melodramatic goth kid you can imagine using various Rock 'N' Roll traditions to create redemptive and sometimes even religious songs about the dark side of life. Obsession, murder, and death are among his favorite subjects. Listening to his songs was a pretty emotional experience that I intend to repeat soon. I think I shall buy "Murder Ballads" next.


I didn't do much this weekend in case you couldn't tell from the fact that I was listening to music on a Saturday night by myself. I did watch a lot of movies. I watched Tropic Thunder, Ghost Town, and Breathless. The first two were mildly amusing comedies made last year and they weren't completely awful ways to spend ninety minutes. Breathless is a classic French Noir film that is responsible for kicking off the New Wave film movement in the sixties. It was nice to look at but kind of cold overall. Director Jean Luc Godard answers the universal question about how man is supposed to live his by saying it doesn't matter how he does it as long as he looks cool doing it. So in essence, style replaces morality as a guide to life. It was quite nihilistic. It's always weird experiencing older influential pieces of art because they all seem so cliched now. I guess all we can do, until someone invents a time machine, is to keep reminding ourselves that they invented the cliche.


I also read the short story collection Drown by Junot Diaz. I'd been meaning to read it for a long time because his Pulitzer prize winning novel The Short Happy life of Oscar Wao was my favorite book of 2007. They're both about the experience of immigrants from the Dominica Republic. About half take place here in New York and the other half take place down there which makes sense considering that Junot Diaz was born there but his parents immigrated here when he was ten. These few stories were the perfect model of what a short story can and should be. In fact, it turns out that I had already read a lot of these stories in my short story classes at college. Definitely worth reading.


Last night, I realized that I have a favorite Charles Dickens novel (favorites are a rarity for me) and that I missed the first installment of the PBS Masterpiece Theatre adaption of Little Dorritt. I guess I'll catch it later on DVD. This novel is my favorite because Dickens wrote it when he was very depressed and it shows. It is his darkest and most modern novel even though it still ends happily. The happy ending seems more earned and satisfying though because of all the dreariness that has come before it. It also contain one his better drawn protagonists, or at least the one people can relate to the best. Most of his male protagonists are bright, young, handsome, righteous men who would be kind of annoying in real life. The protagonist this time is a burned out man approaching middle age who is still trying his best to be a good person most of the time despite a steady stream of personal and financial disappointments.


Last night I did something at a friend's house that I hadn't done in years. I played the board game Life. It was the updated version that I still think needs to be updated a little more. I think it needs spaces that say things like: "You defaulted on your sub-prime mortgage. Miss two turns." "In a populist rage, the government took away your bonus. Please pay all your money to the bank." Or, "You've ran one of the oldest financial institutions in American into the ground. Please collect all the money in the bank for your golden parachute."

Despite not being that realistic, the game did provide for some interesting exchanges.

"College is a scam."

"How do you win at this game?"
"Whoever has the most money at the end ... wins."
"So then it is just like real life."

"Do you get any money for your kids?"
"No."
"Then why have them in the first place?"
"Collin, you know how most of the time I can't tell if you're joking or not?"
"Yeah."
"This is one of those times."


All in all, that and the food made it a delightful evening.

Quote of the Day: Cyrill Connolly

"Whom the gods wish to destroy they first call promising." If you have never checked out the critic and poet Cyrill Connolly before you really should, because he said a lot of great things. I especially like this one. Just think of all the once promising athletes, artist, writers, musicians, filmmakers, and politicians who never came close to living up to their early potential. (Yes, JD Salinger, Brian Bosworth, and M. Night Shyamalan, I'm looking at you.) That's why true success is best reached on the dull, plodding road called persistence.


I finally listened to a CD last night that I got a week ago that I'd been too busy to give a proper listen to. I didn't get the best listening experience last night though because I was riding in a car with my roommate and I didn't want to blow his eardrums out so I kept the volume at 12 instead of my usual 25. Anyway, the first album by The Pains of Being Pure at Heart was still as good as all the hype said it was. I still have several songs stuck in my head. Yes, it's a very precious band name by a very precious band. All the members of the band are cute little indie kids who look like they are going to start crying if you even so much as make eye contact with them. They're from New York but their big, jangly, fuzzy, reverb-laden, hooky, rock-pop sound may as well be from Scotland because it sounds so much like the Scottish bands Teenage Fan Club and the Jesus and Mary Chain. You should definitely give them a listen if your listening tastes skew at all to the indie side of things.


Stay tuned for later when I discuss how my problem with the guy at the cafe downstairs has reached epic, Seinfieldian proportions.

Quote of the Day: Samuel Johnson

Once upon a time, Samuel Johnson's landlady asked him why one of his fellow boarders wanted to get so drunk every night and act like an animal. "I wonder, Madam," replied the Doctor, "that you have not penetration to see the strong inducement to this excess; for he who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man." I love Samuel Johnson and not just because he may be the English language king of pithy sayings; but also because I am something of an Anglophile and his quotes are usually dead-on.


I do have to admit that the drunk guy I ran into on the Burke Gilman trail the other day looked like he was feeling a little pain. I was innocently walking in the morning when a man who looked like he was wearing the clothes he'd slept in flagged me down and told me to turn down my music.

I said, "What?"
"Guess how far I've walked," he said and stepped in very close to me.
"I have no idea."
"All the way from downtown."
"Wow." We were by my house so that seemed like a good ways for somebody who smelled and looked very drunk. I can only assume that drunkenness was the only reasonable explanation he could have had for invading my personal space in such an egregious manner.
"My sister told me she'd pay me fifty bucks if I walked all the way to Kenmore. You know how far that is?"
"No."
"I think I have another three miles. I'm going the right way, right?"
"I believe so." I started to walk away.
"My sister's so stupid. She didn't think I could do it hung over. Stupid."
"Well, you sure showed her."
"No kidding. Keep the faith, brother," he said as we went our separate ways.


I finished reading A Sport and a Past Time by James Salter last night. James Salter has written a lot of books and is quite well respected in most critical circles but he is way too much of a writer's writer to be very well known. In fact, this was the first book of his I've ever read but I do intend to read more. The only problem is that his writing is so beautiful that it makes me despair about my own. Maybe I need to read Twilight next so I can feel better about it.

The universe is one big hologram, apparently.

http://www.newscientist.com/article/mg20126911.300-our-world-may-be-a-giant-hologram.html?full=true

I wanted to link to this article in my previous post because it goes so well with it but I forgot.

Sorry, if I am really botching all the science stuff today. I'm really not much of a science guy. I guess I really only pay attention to it when it helps further my polemical goals.

Quote of the Day: Bernard d'Espagnat

"Science isn't everything." "When we hear beautiful music, or see paintings, or read poetry, [we get] a faint glimpse of a reality that underlies empirical reality." I came across the scientist Bernard d'Espagnant's comments in an article linked to in this blog post. http://www.3quarksdaily.com/3quarksdaily/2009/03/science-cannot-fully-describe-reality-says-templeton-prize-winner.html.

So I'm linking to a post that links to another article which is way more meta than I usually like to roll but I couldn't resist because it dovetails so nicely with something Ive been thinking about lately. A few days ago, somebody told me I needed to read more non-fiction and my response was, "To paraphrase Saul Bellow: Life is too short for non-fiction." I should have explained further what I meant but I was too lazy at the time. Luckily, this article does it much better for me than I ever could.

The distorted, fragments of empirical reality that we encounter on a daily basis are not the true reality of universal human existence and you'll wear yourself out trying to figure out what that underlying reality is using only your five senses. That is what art, music, literature, and religion are for. I know I really need to develop this argument further. I should probably read Kant's Critique of Pure Reason first though. I guess if I had to sum up my argument in one sentence it would be, "Truth cannot be described or quantified only experienced." Or maybe, "Humans beings are not smart enough to intellectually know the truth." Or maybe even, "Reality? Reason? Why bother?"


I had a funny exchange just now on the phone with the COO of a major banking institution.

"Well, which of your direct reports can I talk to about collections?"
"I'll give you a guy's name but you are not allowed to mention my name. I swear to God if he comes in here and tells me that I referred you to him, I will kill your deal right then and there. This it not a joke. So do we have an understanding or not?"
"Yes, sir."

I'll be honest I was a little scared. The fact that he sounded a little like the Godfather didn't help matters.

Quote of the Day: Anonymous

Boy, anonymous sure said some memorable things in his lifetime. I've always liked this quote in particular: "Many of the great achievements of the world were accomplished by tired and discouraged men who kept on working." I keep returning to this one because it's one of the few "motivational" quotes that manages to be inspiring without being pollyannaish. I also think it's an appropriate quote for a long, dark March. If anyone sees the sun, please tell him I miss him and that I promise to change my ways if he ever decides to come back.


I got a weird phone call yesterday. I was minding my own business when my work phone rang. It's been a long month so I was really hoping it was a customer calling to say, "I have two million dollars in pocket to spend on an outbound IVR solution. What do you got?" No such luck though. Instead, I heard a very bubbly female voice saying, "Collin? How are you? I've been dying to talk to you." I think it's quite possible that she was on some kind of upper.

"Good. Who's this?" I asked.
"I'm just calling you to let you know that one of your friends busted you." I was racking my brain at this point trying figure out what I had done to deserve this. (I should mention I was in a pretty bad mood yesterday.)
"For what?"
"Do you know what a charity jail is?"
"No." All I could really think of was that it sounded like something out of a Dickens novel.

So since I have weak sales resistance, I agreed to be held in custody for one hour at the Fox Sports Bar and Grill on April 17th to give my friends and co-workers a chance to donate "bail" money. All the proceeds will go to benefit some muscular dystrophy foundation. I will be setting up a website soon.

I'm really not too sure how I feel about the whole thing. I'd feel too bad about myself if I backed out now, but I fear that it may end up drawing more attention to myself then I normally prefer. I'm really not much of a performer. I'm more like the guy who sits in the back and heckles the performer. I think no matter what, I will be skipping the part where the fire-fighters come to my work and arrest me.


Another weird thing happened to me yesterday. I was sitting next to a woman at a public place when she started breast-feeding her baby right in front of me. She didn't even use a blanket or anything. What the hell? That was one of the most awkward 15 minutes I've ever had, and I have had some pretty awkward ones in my day. I pretty much just stared straight ahead and pretended to be too engrossed in my own thoughts to notice. I realize it's a natural part of life and that breasts don't exist just so men can ogle them, but shouldn't there be some kind of etiquette involving these things?


Check out this article. It's quite interesting. Apparently, obsessive people have better memories. I'm trying not to think too hard about what that says about me. http://www.wired.com/medtech/health/magazine/17-04/ff_perfectmemory?currentPage=all

Quote of the Day: William Faulkner

One of my favorite authors once said, "I never know what I think about something until I read what I've written on it." In the spirit of that quote, this post will be dedicated to reviews of all the media I've been consuming lately so I can figure out what I think about it.




Movies

I haven't seen one in over three weeks. Perhaps I shall do that this weekend.


TV


The Wire
I watched all five seasons of The Wire in about the space of three months which is a lot of TV watching for me. I was initially drawn to The Wire because I was looking for a new show to watch when several people recommended it to me. I have a weakness for cop shows and David Simon's first show Homicide: Life on the Street was my favorite show in high school. I used to watch it religiously every Friday night (True, I had no life). Man, talk about a dark show. I am happy to report that David Simon's latest show is even better and darker. It's ostensibly a cop show; but what it's really about is the way different institutions create, govern, and affect modern urban America and the costs and benefits those institutions impose on everyone. By my
count, there are only four or five major characters who don't lose their souls - for lack of a better word.

I was going to do a big thematic review on the show before I found one on one of my favorite blogs that says everything much better than I ever could. http://www.thevalve.org/go/valve/article/in_withdrawal_from_modernity_the_western_and_the_west_side_in_the_wire/ Comparing it to the western genre is just brilliant. In a nutshell, The Wire is a true work of art and one best televisions ever filmed and the perfect rebuttal to anyone who thinks all TV is a complete waste of time. http://www.theonion.com/content/node/28694 I would recommend watching it but it has pretty graphic content of all kinds so make your own decision. Keep in mind it was on HBO and it's a cop show but a damn good one.

Books

The Watchmen
I decided to read my first graphic novel because I wanted to be part of the culture zeitgeist surrounding the movie, it was being discussed on several literary blogs I visit and I was tired of being left all, and it was recommend to me by a friend whose opinion I have no reason not to trust. All I can say is that is was so worth it. This was one of the complex, intricate, and rewarding books I've ever read. The only challenging thing was training myself to slow down and look at the pictures.


Serena
This was basically a re-imaging of Shakespeare's Macbeth with the Macbeths as American depression era timber barons as opposed to Scottish royalty. This story was told in sparse, biblical prose that reminded me a lot of early Cormac McCarthy. This story took a while to get going but once it did I couldn't put it down. (How's that for a cliche?) It was fascinating to see how the more supernatural parts of Macbeth were handled. I highly recommend this morality tale about the effects of power and violence on the human soul. My only complaint was that I would have liked to see a little more psychological character development. It was still worth the read though.


Newspapers


The Seattle Times
I just started reading it so the verdict is still out. I've been reading the PI for twelve years but I felt like I had no choice but to switch after they printed their last edition. The new web-based version interested me at first because I read all my news online anyway; but it's just not the same. They don't have the financial resources to cover stories the way they used to and linking to other people's stories is a sad, sorry substitute. I still read their comics page because I am creature of habit. The whole thing is just too sad to write about any further.




Plays


Betrayal
I saw Harold Pinter's classic play last Wednesday. It was only 75 minutes long but it was chocked full of goodness and an innovative chronological structure. Harold Pinter was famous for writing about "the hidden menace of every day life" and for dialogue containing lots of pregnant pauses. This play was no exception. I never knew conversations about playing squash could be so tragic. The Seattle Rep did a great job of making a 30 year old play about adultery seem fresh and relevant.

Music

The National
I just started listening to theses guys and I regret that I've wasted so many years of my life not listening to them. The true test of a good band for me is the ability to write songs that sound uniquely their own but that sound different enough that I don't get bored. They live on the softer side of the indie rock world but that doesn't mean they don't rock out every once in a while.


Elvis Costello
I've been wanting to get into him for a while so I finally just broke down a bought a greatest hits album which is something I never do because it feels too much like cheating. I had no choice because the man has put out so much stuff that there was no other place to start. As far as criticism goes, there's nothing I could add about a legend like Elvis Costello so I won't try to.

These albums made me realize a couple things. First off all, I'm a grown-up now since I no longer need all my music to have big riffs, hard-charging drum lines, and angry lyrics. I guess I have matured in the past ten years. Now I'll pretty much listen to anything if it's good. Don't get me wrong, I still rock out now and then but moderation is the keyboard now. Although, whenever I get depressed I still pop in a little Pearl Jam and rock out like a fifteen year old boy upset about being grounded.

I also realized that new music no longer makes me as happy as it once did. I think the fact that it is now so widely available has something to do with it. I mean, I hear a new band every day. It's not like when I was a kid. For sheer exhilaration, nothing will ever beat driving an hour to the nearest biggest city to buy the new Smashing Pumpkins CD, putting it in the portable CD player, and driving through town in my friend's red Geo Metro with the volume cranked all the way up. I still haven't found a better way of jumping into new music.

MISC

I have more reviews coming because I bought more stuff from Amazon this week that I am just waiting to show up like a kid on Christmas morning. I lifted my personal moratorium on book and CD buying because now that I have Amazon Prime it seems like a waste not to buy stuff since I get free two-day shipping. Don't worry if you can't follow my logic about how spending more money is actually the thrifty thing to do; after all, I am operating on a much higher plane of existence than most people. That's also why Amazon loves me.

I found a new website that I am quite excited about. It looks pretty good as far as middlebrow arts and entertainment website go. http://headbutler.com/

Quote of the Day: TS Eliot One More Time

"The remarkable thing about television is that it permits several million people to laugh at the same joke and still feel lonely." I think this will be our last TS Eliot quote for a while but I promise he shall return. I've always kind of identified with Eliot because he worked at Lloyd's Bank of London while he wrote some of his best poetry. I guess software sales is kind of my Lloyd's of London although I really hope the stuff I am writing now is not my best stuff.



I've been thinking about the way we watch TV because I missed "The Office" and "20 Rock" last night and plan on watching them when I get home from work today. In reality, I may watch them at work while everyone else is watching basketball. Most people I know don't watch TV shows the night they are broadcast any more anyway. The DVD or On-Demand routes seem to be much more popular. For instance I just watched five seasons or years of "The Wire" in three months. Compare that to how I watched my favorite show "The Shield" that ended last November. I watched that baby at 10 o'clock every Tuesday night for seven years. It was just a very different experience. I enjoyed "The Wire" but I didn't obsess about it like I did "The Shield." I think mostly because I didn't have a week in between episodes to think about it. The other difference was that watching so many episodes in rapid succession like that made me realize how the un-unified the medium of TV is as an art form. Plots and characters are picked up and dropped and then never heard from again. Although "The Wire" was less bad about that than other shows. I think our new method of TV viewing may act as a "refiner's fire." Hopefully, the gold will rise to the top and the dross will be burned away. Once TV shows can no longer manipulate us with cliffhanger endings we may see how awful some of them truly are. Not having to wait a four months to find out who shot JR may make us realize that we really don't care who shot JR.


I heard the names of two bands for the first time this week that are now battling it out in my head for the title of "Best Band Name Ever." Say Hi to your Mom is one and the other one is The Whitest Boy Alive which coincidentally describes my dancing style.


Here's my favorite exchange of the day that may also explain why I have no friends (Yes, I'm kidding about the friend thing. I have one, the janitor.):

New Employee: "Hey, Collin. I'm trying your method today."
Collin: "What? The being awesome method?"

Quote of the Day: More TS Eliot

"Anxiety is the hand maiden of creativity." I guess I'm on a bit of an Eliot kick this week for a couple reasons. First of all, I've always liked his theories about art and tradition. It's much too complicated for me to explain properly but basically he describes the individual talent of an artist adding something new to the current tradition like a carpenter building on a foundation. This may seem obvious and self-explanatory but trust me it's not when you have narcissistic people like Ezra Pound running around screaming, "Make it new" when he's not too busy writing anti-Semitic propaganda for Fascists. I've also been thinking a lot about Eliot this week because I've been thinking a lot about poetry. We are have a poetry reading Friday and I've been trying to decide what to read. My own poetry is out of the question because it's just not very good. I think I've finally settled on an old Anglo-Saxon poem that reads very much like a a psalm with its faithful stoicism and its words that still ring true after more than fifteen hundred years. I've decided not to read all the ones lamenting about how bad it sucks when my ancestors, the Vikings, come over and impregnate your women. They all seem a little too dark for a church setting.

I'm quite tired today. Today, was the first day in a long time when I had to force myself out of bed with a sheer act of will power. Normally, I pop right up like a jack-in-the-box when my alarm goes off. I'm the best example of a morning person you'll ever find. I think I reach my mental peak around 7AM. After that it's all pretty much downhill. I'm getting much too old to function well on three hours of sleep. I went to the play "Betrayal" last night and I relly quite liked it. That play makes a very good case that Harold Pinter's Nobel Prize was not undeserved. (By the way, my personal policy of not accepting any Nobel Prizes for myself until Philip Roth gets his is still in effect.) The play actually got over at a reasonable time. It was only afterwards that things took a turn for the bizarre. Guess where I found myself at eleven o'clock on a Wednesday night? That's right, I was at the Swedish Medical Center emergency room talking to a girl I'd just met for the first time about catheters and ovarian cysts. I hadn't been in a hospital in forever. I had forgotten what a real chamber of horrors it can be for somebody with mild OCD and germ issues.

I did see something that was kind of funny there last night. This woman got so mad at whoever she was talking to on her cell phone that she threw it all the way across the waiting room. I assume it was some kind of "loved one" because only they have the ability to get you so mad so quickly. Anyway, the woman picked up her phone and promptly apologized when security (or it could have been the police because they had guns) showed up to calm her down. As they were leaving one officer said to the other, "I guess she didn't like her service plan." I almost laughed out loud because it was the perfect line for a world-weary cop who's seen it all. It could have almost been a piece of dialogue written for Jerry Orbach back when he was still alive and on "Law and Order."


PS
I should be adding a blogroll sometime later this week so the three people who link to me can stop feeling neglected.


PPS
I will be reviewing several different pieces of media this weekend such as the play "Betrayal," the books The Watchmen and Serena, the TV show "The Wire," and the band The National. I know you can't wait but try to settle down enough so you can sleep tonight.

Quote of the Day: TS Eliot Again

"And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid." I love that line from "The Love Song of Alfred J Prufrock" because it contains all the profundity, evocativeness, and plain old creepiness that make a memorable line of poetry. I'd like to say I remembered this line from my actually reading of the poem but that would be a lie. I actually just heard it on an old episode of Frasier.


This morning, I was the target of one of the most innovative panhandling campaigns I've seen in a long time. I was on my way to work when a woman jumped out from the shadows and started walking along next to me. She must have been part ninja because I didn't see her until she was right next to me. She started telling me jokes and every time I laughed she told me another one. I won't repeat the jokes here because like most jokes they were all about the delivery and don't sound very impressive on paper. You kind of just have to be there, like you just kind of have to hear a comedian's monologue or an Obama speech to get the full gist. I also won't repeat them because most of them are dirty and I'm sure my mother is reading this blog. Suffice it to say, she touched a wide range of topics; anything from turtle erections to lesbians in canoes to the sexual habits of blondes. She did tell one clean joke about a teddy bear being stuffed after eating dinner that wasn't very good. Her jokes really weren't funny but what made it work was the delivery and the pure absurdity of the situation.

So after walking alongside me for a couple blocks and telling maybe ten jokes, she turned to me and said, "My name is Debra. I'm homeless and I want a big breakfast. I don't believe in begging so this is how I get money." I like to reward creativity, so I said, "What the hell? You've earned it," and gave her six bucks. I would have gladly paid twenty dollars for a story this good.

I'm still impressed with her comedic timing and delivery. I wonder if she's come close to practicing the requisite ten thousand hours. I'm sure if Malcolm Gladwell had been walking with me this morning he would have pointed out how she would have been quite successful in showbiz if she'd only been given the right opportunities in life. It's a good thing we are no longer on speaking terms because nobody likes a know-it-all.



PS
You can now leave comments without having a google account.

Quote of the Day: TS Eliot for Real

"Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality. But, of course, only those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things." I thought of this quote last night while I was working on a short story. I think it's my favorite TS Eliot quote which is saying a lot because he said plenty of interesting things in his day.

I was working on my short story last night when I had a flash of realization that I had been writing about a own personal issue without even knowing it. I had originally conceived my short story as fun little test that would allow me to practice creating a protagonist that was nothing like me and I even stole someone's humorous anecdote for my plot idea. I think it's actually going pretty well right now. I've actually wrote a few paragraphs that I am pretty proud of. I was re-reading a part of the story last night that worked particularly well, when all of the sudden I realized that it was really about myself and my own emotions. I realized the same thing about my novel once upon a time too. Maybe that's why I am so tired of it now because I can get pretty boring sometimes.

I know that if I had set out to try write a story exploring my own emotional state it would have ended up being pretty lame. People whining about themselves is really not that interesting. When people vent they don't really worry about the sentence structure and imagery of their rants. When someone is constructing a piece of art they are mainly concerned with the ascetic effects on the future audience and it shows in the artistic quality of the piece. That's why I never read memoirs but will happily read fictionalized accounts of true events all the time.

I guess in the end nobody can really escape themselves even if that's what you are trying to do through your art. So does that mean I believe in the unconscious? I don't know, maybe.

Quote of the Day: TS Eliot

TS Eliot may have once said, "There are no causes that are permanently lost, because there are no causes that are permanently won." There is no significance to this quote today other than the fact that I have always liked it because it comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable. It's probably a good thing that neither winners nor losers can afford to rest on their laurels because the criteria for deciding which one you are is incredibly vague.





Have you ever seen somebody who looked so out of place that you couldn't help trying to figure out what what route led them to that particular point in their life? Like for instance, what personal, historical, and metaphysical forces shaped the world in such a way that a real cowboy (not the Village People kind) found himself moseying along in front of Pike's Place Market at 5:30AM on a Monday morning. I mean this guy did not fit in at all. He wasn't a construction worker heading to the early shift, a homeless man digging through trash, or an important person wearing khakis and carrying a laptop case. This guy looked like he had wandered in from the set of Bonanza. He was wearing a dusty cowboy hat, a leather coat with a western fringe, a vest, a bolo tie, and boots that looked like they had kicked a few piles of manure in their day. He was also very old and hunched over like he'd been sitting in the saddle for too long. You could just tell he said "dadgummit" a lot and chewed tobacco. There was also no doubt in my mind that he could castrate a bull with his bare hands. So what was he doing in downtown Seattle at five in the morning walking around like it was Laredo, Texas? Maybe there was some kind of cattle drive I didn't hear about this weekend. If I hadn't been too involved in my own little world, I probably would have asked him what his story was.





This morning I realized how excited I am to see Harold Pinter's play Betrayal this week. I am seeing it this Wednesday night at the Rep and it's been forever since I've seen a real play. I really should see more plays because my knowledge of modern drama is the weakest arrow in my quiver of American literature. I know enough names to fake my way through a conversation but that's about it. Speaking of wining and losing, Harold Pinter won the Nobel Prize and then died shortly thereafter. Talk about winning and losing at the same time.

Quote of the Day: The Watchmen

Near the end of Allan Moore's graphic novel The Watchmen, Dr. Manhattan says, "Nothing ever ends." That's how I felt this morning when I woke up and the snow falling to the ground. Big snowflakes. Big movie snowflakes. Melodramatic snowflakes. Needless to say, I am quite tired of this whole having a climate thing.



Speaking of weather, I thought I should recap the business trip I took to beautiful, sunny Orlando last week to attend the National Collections and Credit Risk conference. The software company I work for sells lots of solutions to the collections industry so this was a major event for us. A few weeks ago after I bought my ticket through my company's travel agency, one of the higher-up's assistants sent my VP an email asking what the purpose of the trip was so she could approve it. (Like most companies nowadays we actually have to justify all business expenses. Thanks, recession.) He replied back and said it was to reward me for being the number one corporate sales rep and to give me a chance to practice my face-to-face selling skills so I can be an even greater asset to the company.



So how did I do in the world of face-to-face sales? Actually, not too bad. It was very similar and very different from the world of phone and e-mail sales. I feel quite comfortable talking on the on the phone to strangers because that's my element. I've been talking on the phone for a living for over eight years now. However; approaching complete strangers out of the blue in public is something I was not a hundred percent comfortable with.


Since we didn't have a booth at a trade show, I just walked around reading name tags looking for a company we wanted to do business with. The hard part came after I identified my potential target. I would watch them while I circled around them looking for an in, kind of like a vulture looking for a carcass. The hardest part was thinking of an opening line. Finally, I would get tired of thinking and just go ahead do it. (The only thing I can liken the whole nerve-racking experience to is hitting on strange woman which is something I don't have a whole lot of experience doing. Don't get me wrong. I hit on the occasional strange girl, in fact, you could say they're my type. Those are strange girls I know though not complete strangers which makes a huge difference.) I got the hang of it after the first day though. It's all about not letting your fear stand in the way of you doing a good job. Man, Hemingway would be so proud of me. Here's one of my typical pick-ups:

I step in front of a man's path and stick my hand out.
Collin: "John Smith? Hi, I'm Collin with Varolii."
Prospect: "John Smith. Good to meet you."
Collin: "We actually had a meeting set up today for 10AM that never happened."
Prospect: "Did we? Let me check my Blackberry." He checks. "What do you know? You're right."
Collin: "When do you want to reschedule?"
Prospect: "Let's just do it now."

We had three of our four meetings fall through but I was able to track them down and meet with them anyway. I was quite proud of myself. I tracked down every person I was supposed to find and scheduled on-site visits with all of them. There is a huge potential upside for my company with some of the deals too.


My biggest accomplishment was convincing a certain Mid-west bank to re-engage with us. We working on a deal with them a few months ago that fell through in a most acrimonious manner. I probably talked to their collections manager for about five hours total in the space of two days. We became great friends but he just would not commit to letting us come back on-site. Finally as we were leaving the last party, he said he wanted to meet with us again. My whole office was pretty pumped.


My second biggest accomplishment was showing a hot chick the light-saber application on my iPhone. Even though all she said was, "That's kind of nerdy," I could tell she was impressed. The VP of a major East Coast bank was also quite blown away by it.


I did enjoy my time even if most of the presentations were all pretty much downers. We are, after all, talking about the financial services industry. I made quite a few friends that I am looking forward to seeing again since I was all alone for four days and really had no choice but to make new friends if I wanted to talk to somebody.


In a nutshell, I swam not sank in the this potentially very awkward situation. I am sure I can do the same thing when I travel to the Europe this summer so I am no longer as worried about finding someone to go with me as I was before. However, if you want to tag along this summer, just let me know. I should warn you though that I can't promise you anything other than an "interesting" time and a few good stories.

Quote of the Day: Oscar Wilde

Even though, Oscar Wilde once said, "Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative," I still feel the need to comment on the weather. It is really quite nice here in Florida. I enjoy being able to go on a walk in just a T-shirt. Don't worry, I'm wearing pants now that they specifically told me to. Seattle has just been too cold for me lately. That being said, I am sure I would get pretty tired of the heat down here real fast. It's pretty humid right now; in fact, I have even felt myself starting to sweat a few times and not the kind of sweaty I get when I'm talking to a pretty girl.


Maybe I am just like Goldilocks because I am either too hot or too cold. I think the only place I ever lived where I never complained about the weather was San Jose. Those two years I lived in the Bay Area were very nice too me as far as weather was concerned.


Sorry for the boring blog post but I am too tired to say anything creative. I guess I'm kind of assuming all my other blog posts have been non-stop thrill rides.

Quote of the Day: One of My Many Admirers

Today, someone leaned in close to me, put their arm around me, and said, "I like you. I really like you." Sadly, I don't think they were my type though because they were pushing sixty years of age, big enough to bench press me, and very drunk. Also, it was a guy. Still, you know, it's always nice to hear that once in a while. Needless to say, I had a good time talking to a very intoxicated prospect today.


In other good news, I finally fixed my computer. It'd been running slow for about two weeks so I left it in my room all day and scanned it with everything I could think of and now it works like a charm. I am not the biggest techy geek in the world but I don't think a program called "infostealer" was good for my computer. Also, I learned that KEXP just released an iPhone app and I'm about as excited about that as I've been about anything in months. Oh, and I had a piece of filet mignon so tender it practically melted in my mouth.


I also learned something today that would have been nice to know years ago. Apparently, I've been pronouncing my name wrong ever since I was old enough to talk. Here's an actual exchange I had with a reservation agent today over the phone:

"That's a weird name."
"Just remember the H is silent."
"No, it's not but whatever."

I guess I better run home and tell my dad.

Quote of the Day: Adam Sandler

I am blogging tonight from beautiful, sunny Orlando, Florida. Bear in mind that pond was full of largemouth bass.

The quote of the day comes to us tonight from "The Wedding Singer." "Once again, things that could've been brought to my attention YESTERDAY!" You may remember the Adam Sandler character screaming that after his girlfriend stood him up at the altar and told him she didn't want to marry him anymore. Nothing quite that dramatic happened to me today but I did find out something that would have been nice to know a few days ago when I was planning my trip. I learned the hard way that Orlando has two Regency-Hyatt hotels. So now I am staying at a hotel that is miles away from civilization; however, as you can see, the scenery can't be beat. I did have to cancel most everything I had planned because of a lack of transportation so I spent the afternoon just enjoying the sun and the palm trees. I also had to spend $20 over my limit for dinner tonight since a little tourist trap called Hemingway's was the only place around here open late enough to accommodate my schedule. Surprisingly, the place was not full of bearded, depressive alcoholics making fools of themselves. By the way, the sea bass was worth every penny of its $40 price tag.

In other news, I read The Watchmen from start to finish on the plane today. I have plenty of thoughts to offer on my very first graphic novel that I will share later. I will share with you the fact that I loved it.

I am going to bed now because I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow and I still haven't even strategized with my team yet.

Quote of the Day: Henry James

In "The Art of Fiction" Henry James writes, "Nothing, of course, will ever take the place of the good old fashion of "liking" a work of art or not liking it; the more improved criticism will not abolish that primitive, that ultimate, test." John Updike's novel Couples definitely passed this primitive test for me. I've been going through a bit of an Updike kick since he died a few weeks ago. With his passing, it looks like Philip Roth is now the last remaining giant of post-World War Two American literature.


I was first exposed to John Updike back in one of my creative writing classes in college when I was assigned his famous short story "A & P." I still remember what one of my classmates said while we were discussing the story. "I'm really impressed with this story. I've always stayed away from him because all that suburban adultery stuff bores me to death." That actually turned out to be a fairly accurate description of his fiction even if it is a reductive one. Updike was known for being a very religious person who wrote about people doing terrible things to each other in a very elaborate prose style that could even be called purple at times.


Couples follows the love lives of multiple sets of couples who live in the Massachusetts suburb of Tarbox. Maybe it's because it takes place in the swingin' 60's but there was a lot of adultery. The only man who doesn't cheat on his wife was the very boring and very Catholic Matt Gallagher. Most of the other characters are the kind of nice liberal secular people one would expect to find living in Boston. The only conservative religious character is Piet Hanema who has no problem cheating on his wife with three different women. The only difference between him and the other characters is that he feels bad about it. The funny thing about religion in Updike's books is that it usually doesn't make people better, it just makes them more complicated. Life is a lot harder for believers but the one thing that redeems his novels is that religion is ultimately seen as a necessary and worthwhile force that gives meaning to otherwise meaningless lives.


Updike is really writing about man's search for meaning when he writes about adultery. He explores this theme using his ornate prose style that can actually get a little tiresome after a while. He uses it to great effect most of the time though. John Updike doesn't hate the suburbs like some American writers I could name. He sees it as a world full of wonder, love, and meaning. He describes everything down to the smallest detail with great love and care because the world is really an incredible creation. The episode where Piet obsesses about death is a great example as is the part where he wanders alone along the beach after his separation. Updike is not at all ashamed to describe how God's love feels to a believer. I am still not sure what to make of the last part where the Episcopal Church was struck by lightning and burned to the ground. Regardless of what the fixed meaning is, God is very much a real presence in the novel.


The novel was very much worth reading because it concerned itself with how humans struggle to find meaning and God in a world that obscures both of those things from our vision way too often. Maybe I liked it too because it made me relieved that I'm not married. It certainly doesn't sound like very much fun. Having an affair also sounds like it's more hassle than it's worth.




In other news, I finished the TV series "The Wire" which I will have more thoughts on later in the week.

Weird Advertisments

I got my tax return yesterday and inside the envelope, along with my check, was a direct mail piece telling me all about the special deal the Treasury was having this month on it's state quarter sets. I'm not really good at math so I don't know if $14.95 for all 5o states is a good deal or not. I've never gotten any kind of advertisement with my tax return before and it made me feel a little of dirty. The federal government much be in much worse financial shape then we've been told. At least it's not as bad as California where instead of money for your refund all you get is an IOU. Maybe they can offer commemorative Tim Geitner plates next year.

I also learned this week that Visa is suicide. A few nights ago while I was watching "The Office" and "30 Rock," I saw the same advertisement three times and I laughed harder and harder each time I saw it. So it was a one of those meaningless commercials being narrated by Morgan Freeman containing some amorphous theme like "Seize the Day." Apparently, the point of the commercial is that credit cards give you freedom. Although that idea is funny in and of itself; the funniest part was that, of all the songs in the world, they chose to use "Today" by the Smashing Pumpkins" as background music. It may seem like an appropriate choice on the surface because it's an upbeat song that says things like, "Today is the greatest day." Or it would be if the song wasn't about suicide. The narrator is having a great day because he's finally made the choice to end his life so all his anxiety is gone. (Remember this is 90's alternative rock, so the darkest lyrical interpretation is usually the correct one. Also, Billy Corgan has admitted as much.) Think about it. You'd have cause for concern if somebody in real life ever told you, "I wanted more than life could ever grant. Bored by the chore of saving face." Not a real happy song. So now Visa is forever linked with suicide in my mind. Then again, considering the state of the economy and this country's debt to income ratio maybe it is the perfect credit card theme song.

Quote of the Day: Robert Louis Stevenson

Robert Louis Stevenson once said, “We are all travelers in the wilderness of the world, and the best that we can find in our travels is an honest friend.” I don’t really feel like expounding on this quote other than to say that I am glad I have plenty of honest friends. I know it’s no coincidence that I always seem to meet the right people at the exact right time I need to.


Speaking of being in the right place at the right time, I had a weird experience this morning that was not at all funny. I usually go on a walk every day before work and since I work right downtown I see lots of “interesting” things thanks to all the colorful downtown characters. I usually just laugh everything off because so much of the La Comedie Humane is too absurd to do anything else about. Not today though.

I was walking earlier this morning when I saw a flash of purple behind me so bright that I had to turn around and look. As soon as I did, I saw an elderly woman in a pimp-purple coat fall down and strike the pavement hard with her face. I ran over to her and asked her if she was all right. She said she was before trying to sit up on her knees and falling back down during the attempt. She was shaking horribly and had a pretty scary cut on her cheek that was bleeding quite a bit. I asked her if I should call nine-one-one. She said she was fine and didn’t need my help. She did try to grab my arm when I offered it to her but she was still too weak to do anything with it. When I started to bend over to pick her up, another woman stopped by and offered to help who then walked off as soon as the two of us managed to get the old woman up onto her feet.

I then held her in my arms to keep her from tumbling over and asked her where she was going. She said - with very slurred speech - that she was heading to the federal building. I said I would take her there even though she said I didn’t need to. So we walked across the street and up the block to the federal building while I held her closer than I’ve held any woman in the past six months because I had to practically carry her. We stopped at the front entrance and she grumbled at me for taking her to the wrong place. It turned out she worked there so I had to take her to the employee entrance. I told her she needed medical attention but she just kept shaking her head no and the security guards with guns started eyeing me suspiciously so I left as soon as she made it safely inside. I hope she’s all right. I fear she may have suffered some kind of a stroke. She was so calm about everything that I suspect something was not working right upstairs.

Nothing like a shot of adrenaline to start the morning off right.

Life Advice: Stay Away From Shakespeare and Strippers

Today, I was given two vital pieces of advice that I feel compelled to share with the rest of the world.

This morning, I was talking to my boss and a woman from marketing who's seven months pregnant when the subject of baby names came up which is a subject I have strong opinions on and no real authority to speak of. I said, "All my kids are going to be named after Shakespeare plays."
She said, "You mean like characters in the plays?"
"No, like the actual plays themselves. You know, like The Tempest or something."
"That's ridiculous. No woman worth marrying is going to let you do that to her kids."
"So you're saying I should stop telling girls that?"
My boss chimed in with, "If you're telling them that, that could explain why you're never going from point A to point B with these girls."

Later, my boss was briefing me on my upcoming business trip. He said, "Do you have a shirt?"
"No, I thought I'd just go topless. I think it will make out our company more memorable, don't you?"
"I meant a company shirt," he said, "Which reminds me: don't take more cash than you need because the strippers will take it all. Just stay away from them. It's not worth it."
"Words to live by."

I wish somebody had told me all that years ago so I could have saved myself some heartache.

Quote of the Day: Melville and Updike

So I finished Couples by John Updike last night and started thinking about how well his marriage of content and form worked. I've been doing a lot of thinking this week about what makes something literature and I almost came to the conclusion that a proper melding of content and form makes something literature. I guess the definition of literature has been on my mind lately because I keep coming across the question in my reading this week. I came across a blog post yesterday attacking the work of David Foster Wallace right after I got done reading an interview with Cormac McCarthy where he said that he didn't consider Proust literature because he doesn't ever address the issue of death. It is true. Proust really does skim over death, unlike Mccarthy, who is obsessed with it as anyone who has read The Road can testify. So the question then is, how important is theme? I am still working that one out. It would be nice to say that anything that deals with humanity is worthy of our attention, but is that really true?

Anyway, I thought of these two contradictory quotes. Herman Melville said, "To produce a mighty book, you must choose a mighty theme. No great and enduring volume can ever be written on the flea, though many there be that have tried it." And about a hundred years later, John Updike said, "Try to understand what the author wished to do, and do not blame him for not achieving what he did not attempt." Right now I am leaning towards the Melville side of the argument. My review of John Updike's forty-one-year-old novel will be up later even if I am coming a little bit late to the party.

On a completely unrelated note, don't you just love the look IT guys get on their face when they ask you if you did or didn't do something to your computer and all you can do is hang your head in shame because you know you've done wrong? It's akin to the same look a disappointed father would give his son for turning out to be a failure even though he's not surprised at all because he's been telling him the whole time he was never going to amount to anything. *

On a lighter note, I am getting excited to go to Florida next week and hone some new skills.




* This didn't happen to me but it did happen to Sigmund Freud and it affected his work significantly. There's a reason his most famous theory involved sons wanting to kill their fathers.

Quote of the Day: Pascal

The very quotable Blaine Pascal once said, "All human evil comes from a single cause, man's inability to sit still in a room." I was reminded of this quote today on the bus even though it's not technically a room, but a strange quasi-public-private experience where everyone tries very hard to pretend that no one else exists.

I had a couple incidents this morning on it that have put me in a contemplative mood. First of all, throughout the whole trip the guy across from me was staring at me so intensely that it looked like he either wanted to kiss me or hit me. (It doesn't really matter which because I would not have welcomed either outcome.) I tried to pretend like I didn't see him and turned my iPod up instead of asking what he wanted. I must have turned it up too loud because I was so busy listening to an old Pearl Jam song a few minutes later that I almost missed my stop. When the bus stopped, I had no idea where I was and it took me so long to re-orient myself that I almost didn't make it off the bus in time.

So my morning commute has got me thinking that my iPod may be ruining my life. I worry that I am building an electronic cocoon around myself that will prevent from interacting with the craziness and wonderfulness that is the world around me. Don't get me wrong, cocoons can be quite useful. They protect and nourish caterpillars until they become butterflies but I think it's a little too late in the game for me to turn into a butterfly. Also, butterflies aren't very manly. So I am trying to figure out how to strike a balance between never being bored and being open to the experience of life. Sometimes, I can think of no worse fate than no longer being able to perceive the world around me with a great degree of accuracy.

So I turned my iPod off this morning during my daily morning walk when I saw a homeless guy scraping the paint off the top of a fence post in Pioneer Square with a huge circular saw blade. I didn't ask what he was doing because he looked really focused on the task at hand and I feel it is best not to frighten people who are holding sharp objects. Man, that dude was intense. I have to admit I'm slightly jealous of that intensity.

Quote of the Day: Nietzsche

Once upon a time, a friend told me, "Never read Nietzsche when you're depressed,"* which is actually very sound advice regarding the philosopher most famous for saying, "God is Dead." He was not the world's happiest guy. He has a few quotes that are good for shocking the bourgeoisie at parties. Such as, "It is always consoling to think of suicide: in that way one gets through many a bad night." "Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man."

We're not going to focus on those quotes today because they are way too emo to take seriously. The quote of the day is: "He who has a strong enough why can bear almost any how."

I find that quote very motivational if you think about it. It's also probably the best we can expect from the guy with such bad luck that he got syphilis the one and only time he slept with a woman.

*Also, the first line of my next novel.

Yesterday

Yesterday was one to the best days I’ve had in a long time. I composed the perfect sentence for my short story, the last of the books I bought for my birthday book-buying orgy showed up, and the dark rye shoed back up.

Two months ago, I decided that dark rye was a very important component of the perfect sandwich. Unfortunately, one month later the dark rye was gone from the deli I eat at every day; never to return, apparently. I had an exchange a few days later with the owner that went a little something like this:

“No dark rye today, huh?”
“No, they were all out again.”
“That’s weird.”
“We keep trying to buy it but they only give us what they can get. It’s very hard for them to get dark rye. I think they are always out because nobody likes it.”
“Maybe.”

Based on this conversation I concluded a couple things. It appears that they are buying their bread from some kind of black market group with supply problems (Maybe I’ve been watching The Wire a little too much.) I also realized that my grasp of economics may be more limited than I previously thought because I had always assumed that popular products sold out faster not the other way around. I shall now take my new knowledge back to my sales director to see what he can do with it.

Regardless of the reason for the shortage, I am glad that the dark rye is back. When I saw it sitting there on the counter, I was so happy I didn’t even question it. Also, I am a little scared of prying into the bread cartel’s business.

Today should be a good day as well because I have a man-date with Michael Hammond tonight at my favorite Mexican restaurant.

Dear Reader,*

So after years of thinking about it, I have finally decided to start a blog because I realized it was a sin to continue depriving the world of my keen sociological insights. I have resisted the urge to start a blog for a couple reasons. First of all, I was worried about taking too much time away from my fiction writing. It takes me forever to decide that it's time to declare a piece of writing finished so I knew I would spend way too much time on each blog post. The other thing that really worried me was that I might - in a moment of passion - post something that would get me in trouble with someone.

I decided to start blogging anyway because I realized that most of the time all I ever talk about is irrelevant nonsense anyway so I might as well put it on-line like everybody else. I will avoid writing anything that will get me in trouble by following my good friend Michael Hammond's first rule of blogging: "Don't write anything that will get me in trouble." Like I do every day, I will also try to follow Dwight Schrute's rule of thumb about not doing anything an idiot would do. So if you are a family member, friend, or lover (see imaginary), you have nothing to worry about. However; if you are some random stranger on the bus or the street I can't promise anything.

I really hope this blog will help me overcome my publishing reluctance. As many of you know, I completed my novel last month and I am too scared to send if off to an agent because I am a perfectionist about my writing. Hopefully, if I start publishing something small - like blog posts - I can eventually make it to the published novelist phase of my life. So all the bad grammar you find will be therapeutic bad grammar.

If you've read this far, you are probably very bored and wondering what this blog will be about. Basically, it will be just like talking to me, getting an email or a wall post from me, or being subjected to one of my comments; only it will be better, because you can just ignore me when I start talking for too long about irrelevant non-sense that only I care about. This blog will contain stories, musings, and a little literary, movie, and music criticism. The only serious part will be the criticism.

There are a few things you will probably not find on this blog. Photographs will be rare and not just because of my unphotogenic nature. I prefer a more mediated experience with reality than photos allow. I want to remember and re-create the world the way I want it to be not the way it really is. You also won't find much political talk because I have discovered that my politics have become too idiosyncratic to please either the right or the left and I don't have time to moderate a civil discussion regarding the matter. I guarantee you will only find exclamation points on this blog over my dead body because of my pure unadulterated hatred for them.

The only thing I can really promise about my blog is that nudity will always be tasteful and integral to the plot.

Peace Out,
Collin


PS
Stay tuned later this week for my review of the late John Updike's suburban adultery classic Couples.


*I took my title for this post from Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre. I always cite my quotes not because I'm pretentious, but because I don't want to be accused of plagiarism. Okay, also because I'm a little pretentious.