Saturday, October 04, 2008

Wet October grey, yellow leaves cast down in the gutters. Brisk west wind, ink-black clouds piled against the North Shore mountains. Waking in low light, the tattered beanstalks tap-tap-tapping on the apartment's windows like rain. The bus creaks and hisses across the bridge, through showers that remind me of sitting with K. on the bakery deck in Lund, B.C., watching squalls move in across the Salish Sea. "Black sheets of rain." (Bob Mould). The yellows and faded greens of tired earth, the patter of rain on salal. Recent keyword searches: mushroom poisoning; amanita toxicity; winter chanterelles Vancouver B.C. Like I'd ever tell! "I'd read your blog more often, but it's just so fucking cryptic." (A good friend, over beer). An attempt to set images down one after the other with no embarrassment or shame. An associational chain. "Dress: smart casual." (My high school 20-year reunion organizing committee's instructions). Black pants; grey turtleneck; grey climbing jacket; scuffed black leather "dress" shoes; floppy climbing hat. What you could call a "style." It's not fancy but it's mine.
Friday, October 03, 2008

Tonight's Youtube:

SC: Nobody knows my sorrow

TS: But it wasn't you

SD: A case of aces done up loose for dealing
Fail to Get Hired at Pulpfiction Books in 2 E-Z Steps!

1. "Do you want to fire any of your staff so you can hire me?"

2. [viz. CJB's suggestion to apply at Local Chain Discount Bookstore, as CJB answers the phone, processes trades, rings up sales, and receives and prices 650 pounds of remainders] "I don't really want to work at a place where they'll just, y'know, make me shelve all the time."

CJB [sharply]: What did you think you'd be doing here?

PERMANENTLY UNHIRED GUY [not registering tense change]: Uh, talking about books?
Thursday, October 02, 2008

"The robbery went down in tiny Monroe, Washington. The thief wore a ventilator mask, and sprayed the armored truck guard, outside a Bank of America branch. Then he dashed for a creek running into the Skyomish River. He got in an yellow inner tube, and took off.

Meanwhile, 'at least a dozen unsuspecting decoys' were standing around to confuse any potential pursuers. They were all recruited on Craigslist. . . ."

(via dru)
Tuesday, September 30, 2008

I was Waiting For You
I was Standing Around
I was Getting Older
I was Going Down

sings Emily Haines.

Late night, air close, humidity amped-up by the high clouds rolling through.

"Power Steering Hose: $172.13. Labor: $172.00. Power Steering Fluid: $7.50. Chemicals, cleaners, rags, and miscellaneous items consumed in quantities too small to quantify: $5.16."

"While many people shift their interests over time, the shy, insecure man she had married seized on one obsession after another. From his childhood obsession of collecting license-plate numbers to reforming the jiggery-pokery of journalism, three roles invariably interested him. The first was the relentless collector, expanding his empire of money, people and influence. The second was the preacher, sprinkling idealism from the lectern. The third was the cop, foiling the bad guys.

The perfect business would allow him to do all of these at once: preach, play cop, and collect money to ring the cash register. . . ." (Alice Schroeder, The Snowball, p.380)
Monday, September 29, 2008

So long, hey, thanks my friend.

"'The Canadian aggregate exports into the California market business model is still really in its infancy,' said Leong, aiming to start production in a year or two. 'Ten years from now, I think that any producer of aggregates that can put it on large bulk carriers will be at maximum production for a long, long time.'

Polaris and Leong pointed to a 2006 California geological survey study that found the current reserves will satisfy only 32 per cent of its projected demand over the next 50 years, creating plenty of demand for B. C. product."

On sale today (and just extracted from a box of Random House receiving): a brand new 1000-odd page authorized biography-cum-how-to-manual. "The theme of total identification with the subject." (qv. Pierre Meynard's idealistic and only somewhat quixotic reinscription of Cervantes).

"Whatever went on inside his mind took place between the lines; it came through in the silences, the flashes of wit, the tremulous flight from certain topics of conversation. His feelings danced behind so many veils that even he seemed unaware of them most of the time." (Schroeder, p.248)

Stonerabbit Peak's SE Face. Approximately 900m. of flawless fourth-class granite. Tomorrow's solo destination. Constant Readers will recall summer 2006's ill-fated trip to approximately three quarters of the way up the face. Photo courtesy dru.
Sunday, September 28, 2008

Tonight's Youtube:


MFSB: Mysteries of the World

GB: Who's Gonna Save My Soul

HM & TBN: The Love I Lost

M: Mandrill

MG: "T" Plays It Cool. Give the drummer some!

A short seamless conjunction of handheld digital video with a higher-end, somewhat better-known aesthetic. Very much in the spirit of The Vampires' Picnic, The Stumbling Block, most of Goya's late pictures, much Yoshitoshi, and some of my ghosts. A.k.a. "hallucinatory realism."

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