Monday, July 28, 2014


We Were Just Talking

We were just talking about the intricacies of romantic relationships, and especially the sort that are in grey areas between "friendship" and romantic (legit romantic). And I was saying how I know people who are "emotionally gay," but not sexually gay. I believe the term is homosocial. They sleep with women but otherwise partner with men. In other words, if they're male, they get their primary emotional needs and nurturing met by other males (who may be gay, straight, bi; it's irrelevant)--or from other females, if it's a woman. Why should it surprise anyone that people might compartmentalize romance or emotion in this way? It can make for some funny situations. A noblesse oblige emerges that might soften the social profile of one's heterosexuality--it risks appearing too chivalrous. But then what did we invent the concept of "metrosexuality" for? We created it as a stopgap to release any socially atavistic hostility others might possibly direct at us, or we might direct at ourselves. In other words, more bullshit where language takes centuries to catch up with reality.


See, I prefer The Mafioso's Bible to the King James, largely because of the illustrations.


While reading this afternoon by natural light in the upstairs bathroom with the shower door closed, the book before me did give me amply just cause for a sudden bout of laughter, the visceral type, accompanied by those stiletto sharp jabs, and I realized with a distinct horror (oh so distinct!) that my laugh--which was given a more focused sonic profile by the echoic chamber of the bathtub with its shower door closed--was nearly identical (without the benefit of excoriating psychological realism courtesy of an actor) to one of the MPD facets of the colorful stay-at-home loon who Annie Lennox played in the Beethoven (I Love to Listen To) video.

Dude. Seriously disturbing.

Mad Ducks Poem

Be a good person.
Be a g-g-g-g-good person.
Stand on the bridge in winter
and throw breadcrumbs
to ducks paddling the freezing creek below.
When the snowstorm comes,
keep tossing the breadcrumbs.
When it turns to blizzard
and everything is whited-out,
the sky, the earth,
even yourself,
keep lobbing the breadcrumbs.
There may be blizzard-proof ducks
still hungry down there,
still hanging on.
Just because
you're blind
doesn't mean
you can't
continue to
be kind.
it is terror
that makes you
in this world.
Think how far
you've come;
it is holy
to remember
how much terror
lies beneath

Simple Solutions to Practical Problems

If someone is experiencing a psychotic break with reality, give them a cup of jelly beans. Most likely, they will be unable to resist picking out the colors/flavors they do not like in the bunch, while telling you about it.

Note: This works even if you substitute other altered states for "psychotic," and other assortments of taste-dividing objects for "jelly beans."

(Source: Sun Tzu, The Art of War)

Best Reply to "I'm Breaking Up With You"

"You have just pissed away tens of thousands of hours of the most careful pastiche on the planet, plied by the hand of the master him(her)self."