dropped the birthday cake. i was in a circle of older gay me, some of affluence, with a homemade cake on a platter, and with the candles lit and all eyes on me. it slid to the floor. a medievalist, whom i had met earlier in the evening, i used his hands to shade my eyes from the horror-stricken faces of my hosts, the birthday dude, and the guests. we ate the cake anyway. but when does this happen in real life?
offended an art historian (specializes in Caravaggio) by explaining that my fiction reading last week was presented as a mock lecture about a video artist. he was mock-offended, i think. when he talked—and he was voluble—he spit little pieces of cheese and crackers or nuts on me, on my shirt, on my hands. i ended up conversing with him at an odd angle to avoid being peppered with these wet little bits.
broke a wine glass (this happens all the time, though). i am as a bull in a china shop, etc. the Harvard-boy I’m intermittently friends with (this impresses me no end; why do i suck after the ivy league imprimatur?), he dryly noted my consecutive party fouls.
went to bed and knocked my phone into a cup of water, where it waited for me all night, and was, you know, fucking shot by the time i fished its dear drowned cellphone-corpse out this morning, absently aware that my alarm had yet to sound.
the word i would use to characterize my nervous energy and thus nervous-self at events i’m uncomfortable attending, is: obnoxious.
There are so many lessons to be learned from tonight! The major one: turn around to see if your projection is actually playing, because your audience, meek, guarded, profoundly uneasy fellow MFArs, they will kindly look on, through you, past you, while you read aloud in the dark on a darkened stage, with the single image of your father digging a hole behind you for 15 minutes. (Some people said this was actually just as effective as having the full-blown media piece play behind me, the one I spent 8 hours on.)
It’s for people who can’t get published on the fucking PANK blog. And also those who can! (Not that I have. Failure!)
Welcome to the N.L. Centralish! I will be vested as Commissioner of this year’s inaugural season. I think 80% of us are nubes at the fantasy baseball system so Krammes and Jerrod should be patient. Also, Krammes and Kate should not feel ostracized because they’re the only people not related to a Bryson… (YET!) Also, some house keeping orders, and this is probably the first of several charges that needs issued by myself in my Commissioner capacity. So: If Krammes is struck by sniper fire or succumbs to Afghan protests and is incapacitated in any way to the point that he cannot play fantasy MLB, I move that he needs to establish a successor who can take over and run his team. Sort of like Sharon did with Tzipi Livni when he bailed out of the newly established Kadima party because of a “coma.”
So, sniper fire and unholy protests be damned, baseball goes on, sounds good to me. I’m not sure how to start a draft but it probably entails selecting a date and time and hitting a button that says something like “start draft” or something like that. Evan’s mascot is outlawed in 43 1/2 states for sure, it not only makes kids cry it made me cry. So, who’s who in this game? We know DB, Krammes, Andy, Ally, Me, Master Batters I’m guessing Tony and the rest I’m up in the air on. Also, I’m way pissed that I can’t access this from work due to it being blocked on the basis of being considered a “Game”, stupid!
Okay guys (and ladies), I’ve gone over the rules and we can either do this live draft style and draft our rosters by taking turns which will require all of us to be online at the same time…or we can do a list draft whereby we rank our players. I’ve got us down for live draft right now just so we don’t get locked into a set. But can change it back to list draft by the Authority of the Commissioner. (See what I did there? I combined fantasy baseball with His Dark Materials. I prefer to be called the Authority actually from now on.) Anyway, everyone should be doing their pre-rankings as this will ensure they get who they want or at least somewhat of their desired roster.
Lets do a live draft. Jerrod, I too am blocked from this site at work. I found a work around though. I was able to navigate to the site only if I clicked the original invite link AJ sent to my email. Anyhow, I am 9.5 hours ahead of you all, so if you set the draft for like 10 or 11 EST than I should be able to participate. My first three picks if I had to draft right now: 1. Chris Sabo 2. Jonah Keri 3. Marty Brenneman
I like the idea of coordinating a live draft for a Patriot doing hard work in the high desert of Afghanistan, but I just don’t think it’s feasible. One, I’m pretty sure Todd is leaching internet from a bar 4 blocks away, plus he’s notoriously difficult to schedule with from years of habit-forming evasive tactics with collection bureaus. Two: Evan, well, you’ve all seen his team name and mascot, enough said. Next, Tayler and I don’t have internet at our house- you’re Iranian connection is better than our non-existent one. Jerrod and Ally would likely do it because they’re the most responsible; and Ally has that unflagging politeness possessed by all Canadians (I think she thought this was a curling league!). I actually think a list could be pretty fun. It all come down to where you rank your players: If I put Votto at #1 and you put him at #6(you wouldn’t right?) then I snatch him up. It’s all based on where you rank them, and I think that’s a bit of strategy right there. Naturally with Todd, Tayler, and Evan farting around, Kemp will be divided in more ways than Voldemort’s soul and become a toss-up on who actually gets him. So, I’m keeping the Live Draft up for now because List Draft is scheduled for March 2d and that’s not enough time for us nubes to rank our players. Next: I would like to propose an edict straight from the Authority: NO AMERICAN LEAGUE PLAYERS ARE ALLOWED to be drafted in the N.C. Centralish League. Hit (X) next to their name and get them out of here. The Authority will take written arguments as to why they should be included as is required by Due Process under the 5th and 14th Amendment.
Who is the auteur? The Hollywood Reporter revealed that two members of the spot’s Portland Oregon-based ad agency had been Obama volunteers in 2008 although it is unclear what input, in any, they had in the concept. The ad itself was directed by 36-year-old David Gordon Green, the earnest oddball regionalist (in films like All the Real Girls) turned maker of stoner action comedies (most recently Your Highness). The only personal touch would seem to be Green’s goofy sanctimoniousness and lyrical feel for derelict rural landscapes, although it’s a bit uncanny that his first movie, the 2000 indie production George Washington would have as its hero a silent, self-contained black kid with a justified sense of destiny, nicknamed for the first president of the United States. “Halftime in America” seems to be one of these presents that America gave to itself.
Alright. Having established that the Bros. Dickman also had a hand in scripting “Halftime in America,” mind truly madly blown to read that David Gordon Green directed the spot. I enjoy how Hoberman calls Green—back-handedly?—an auteur. Is Hoberman’s book out yet? The one that expands on an essay in Artforum? Readers—I am shrivelling before you. My brain. My fingers. Etc.
I should list the things I felt this evening while looking at the dog:
the unbearable lightness of being
stoic, stiff-upper-lipped, because of the articles on the BBC in my lap
vegetarian—it’s um an upper-class feeling; the lower middle-class can experience it, too
shock at the misery that comes upon me like a coat, with the simplest memory, misery towards agony, it can make you stop walking and say things aloud; yesterday I said, “I can’t get this sleep right!”
Helsinki, also a book on my table, on loan
fury: in critique today, Pavel noted that my pieces have similarities, or are extensions of each other; in that, I know my aesthetic is consistent: I said, “I have one mode, really, and I’m always mining the same vein,” e.g., “the exilic consciousness” (also from the BBC articles): that I was stuck
run-down from running, but I do run quickly, and a lot
Aunt Heather said the same thing about watching Cooper get run over by the school bus this morning: perfect way to start the work day. Is the reply thread not the place for this?
Cooper was a three-legged dog that recovered spendidly from his first traumatic accident, although he was forever digging holes in the yard, a hole-digging compulsion, an odd way of recovering for a dog that had to take special care to dig at all. When airplanes flew over-head he chased them across the sky. This is a mighty blow to the Ohio/Indiana borderscape.