i'm in the living room watching twin peaks: fire walk with me. laura comes in.

laura: what's this you're watching?

me: a movie where ray wise kills women.

laura: so, nonfiction?

'the life that went on in them seemed to me made up of evasions and negations . . . this guarded mode of existence was like living under a tyranny. people's speech, their voices, their very glances, became furtive and repressed. every individual taste, every natural appetite, was bridled by caution. the people asleep in those houses, i thought, tried to live like the mice in their own kitchens; to make no noise, to leave no trace, to slip over the surface of things in the dark. the growing piles of ashes and cinders in the back yards were the only evidence that the wasteful, consuming process of life went on at all.'

-- willa cather, my ántonia

see volume 1.

i have again produced, as a product of tedium, narcissism, and guilt at not updating this blog more often, a collection of short utterances (chronologically unkempt) for those too cool (or not cool enough) to follow my doings on twitter. please to enjoy:


How crazy and dishevelled did I just look on my morning bank deposit excursion? The answer is: moderately crazy and dishevelled.

@emmiesaur My kitchen wants to apologise for trying to kill you last night. It doesn't have a Twitter, so I am passing along the message.

You're LARPing right now, aren't you? You've surreptitiously added me to your LARP.

@WickedlyElphie Wonder if Princess Backslash is related to Queen Underscore, who rules over the realm of not knowing what an underscore is.

Current reading: http://bit.ly/3FmAH The content says interesting story of 1980's China, the cover says free government sheep for everyone.

Tonight: To @emmiesaur 's for a movie about cars and the people who love stealing them. I think it's called Gone in One Minute.

@indiehearts You should have gone to RadioLean-To. They pay less on structural upkeep and pass the savings on to you.

Watching Howl's Moving Castle at Alli's. I have no idea what's going on or whether Allen Ginsberg is involved.

Tichborne's 'Elegy' is sort of like the sixteenth century version of Daniel Powter's 'Bad Day'.

Joseph H. Smith, I can't stand Orrin Hatch. #sotoshow #sotomayor

Laura got a decorative bird wall hanging dealie that is now near my desk, as if to say 'this is where the Twitter nonsense takes place.'

I'm going to do Sotomayor one better and suggest that we just stop letting white people make decisions, period.

Fruit paste is a thing. Food can be called 'paste' and still be okay.

Oh, fuck James K. Polk.

Now I think is a good time to listen to Mary Timony solo demos by the ocean.

Sometimes I get excited. About PREFIXES.

'That's 1666. Good fire. Good plague that year too.' -- Dr. Baker, as told by Britt.

'Cold Harbor. June 3rd. I got worried for a bit but I came out of it okay after all.' #alternatehistory

I'd like to see an increase in the usage of the term 'hydrarchy', please.

I still believe in the saving power of early Madonna singles.

It's okay, that's not Mothra. It's just Moth.

The college finally sent the little sticker for my diploma: going to miss my homemade 'Summa Cum Laude' pink Post-It. All things must pass.

The Good, the Bad and the Snuggie #failedwesterns

Relaxing post-work unwinding by the ocean today. DIdn't get any Proust read, but there was some awesome haze.

Laura: 'I feel like the Burger King king would be a Decepticon.'

The road to hell is paved with good intentions; also little bricks with fire pictograms and some arrows pointing you in the right direction.

I inherited this little blue book from my step-uncle-in-law-- The Second Amendment Primer. It's like a creepy NRA bible.

Emmie: 'George Foreman! That fucker, I want his oven.'

New self-help book, as planned in a conversation last night: 'How To Find Your Lesbian Superpower'

My Lesbian Superpower involves A/V cables and is not fully developed at this time.

In Psychology Department, rat studies YOU.

Dear Guy Pushing a Lawnmower Down the Middle of the Street: Thank you. The pavement was getting out of control after all that rain.

I want a place with an upstairs so I can hear an old radio playing upstairs.

Met Lindsay at the fireworks. Drunk woman behind us kept screaming 'Good works!' I'd like to see some fireworks justified by faith alone.

@AKGovSarahPalin I have to applaud you for being able to admit that it's best for Alaska's progress to not have Sarah Palin as governor.

You thought all your ducks were in a row. All your ducks were in a row, but then the office lost one of your ducks.

Yes, I'd love one of those 'bottled waters' I've heard so much about. A banned delicacy in Australia, don't you know.

There's a really tweaky guy here negotiating a drug deal by phone. He is not as stealthy as he thinks he is.

The room behind me in the new picture got flipped. That is our apartment in the alternate universe where William Bell lives.

Beagle! We got a beagle in the hallway. Beagle.

Found a notebook estranged from its owner. One of the first pages has the following, surrounded by white space: 'Don't Give Advice.'

I am certain all those Marine Corps veterans on the highway appreciated my Hawaiian sovereignty bumper sticker this lovely Fourth of July.

We were like Brian Wilson and Van Dyke Parks on that motherfucker.

I heard that one of the little dogs next door is named Arthur. I hope the other two are Jenny and Lancelot.

I hope isolated thunderstorms will choose Salem. It's hard not to take it personally when they don't.

Watching Gone Baby Gone and rocking the bass guitar with partial competence.

Overheard: 'We have to tape-record every moment of our lives just to remember the jokes.'

It is he, the venomous pirate Sword Van Hook.

I speak proficient Vonlenska, but only in the summer.

The lesson of tonight, I think, is that this television can't handle Björk without frequent volume adjustments.

My kingdom for a front porch and a thunderstorm.

Those Pure Michigan commercials are driving me completely bitchcakes. I don't need Tim Allen's voice in my home.

Every time I see an ad for Gran Torino I imagine Eastwood as Christian Bale's Batman grown old and poor, defending his lawn with a shotgun.

Actual dream I had: @indiehearts and I are vigilante crimefighters in Wichita. We take on 'The Kansas Mafia.'

I don't believe in standardised tests. Then again, I don't imagine standardised tests believe in me either.

Dear Associates: The sound you hear coming from my pants pocket is ten dollars in quarters. As you were.

@emmiesaur Later, more reasoned call on best part of tonight: James Earl Jones destroying ancient evil with explosives?

Yul Brynner co-starred with William Shatner in a film version of The Brothers Karamazov? That must be either the best or worst movie ever.

I was just told that, due to the paperclip collection, I am like Bert from Sesame Street. Accurate?

The Awful Rowing Toward Job.

'Rain' trending on Twitter: perhaps the first step of Chris Adrian's The Children's Hospital becoming reality?

Forget Flag Day-- I'm celebrating the eighth day of the Vestalia.

There's a car outside the apartment that contains a box of decorative boxes.

Going for a little walk listening to Bon Iver, which right now feels like the audio version of James Agee describing Emma Woods.

I think I'll harm myself if I ever so much as see a Cracker Barrel again.

Trying to find an appropriate Dora the Explorer product as a gift for Laura's nativist father.

This Twitter is famous, you know. They read one of its tweets on the C-SPAN.

@cspanwj The entire concept of the 'Terrorism List' rests on ludicrous sabre-rattling and is useless for productive diplomacy.

Napped a bit. Had a dream about overly precious T.H. White as an American high school student. Yes, he had an owl.

Chewbacca would probably be a libertarian.

Yes, New Hampshire driver. Go ahead and put your hair in a ponytail. It's only a highway.

Peanut butter pomegranate jelly time, peanut butter pomegranate jelly time.

Joke of the day, one Uncle Dennis has been telling for years. Q: Why did the monkey fall from the tree? A: Because it was dead.

Those Pep Boys commercials where the little cartoon guys are dressed like sailors freak me the fuck out.

On Memorial Day in America, we honour fallen soldiers with cookouts, drinking, and car accidents (order suggested but not mandatory).

Sealing envelopes. Sealing envelopes like a Coelacanth. Like a Coelacanth working in an office.

Thinking about that weird Georges Bataille novella where they see some Nazis then have sex near a cemetery. You know the one.

Mom to daughter, heard at store: 'I'm a little upset because you're slow, you're indecisive, and now I know you're gonna starve to death.'

It has to be the vibrant green paper. Not the regular green. The regular green is DEAD green.

Dear World: I insist that you start using 'Inigo Montoya' as a verb. I await your compliance.

@NicoleCristelli I would watch it. And write implausible fan fiction?

Paperclips are staples for people afraid of commitment.

I'd like to see a resurgence in the use of the word 'wield.' Get on that.

Pondering the spectrum of improbable outcomes. There's a little Judy Tenuta in my head. 'It could happen,' she insists.

Forget penny dreadful. This is Sacagawea dollar dreadful.