Let The Wild Rumpus Start

I'm so excited for this film. I love this book. I love Spike Jonze. And in some beautiful way the trailers for this film give me more faith in humanity. All you artists that are out there creating, and being active, and peeling off the scales from our eyes, thank you. Isn't this life amazing?

Slamming Open The Door

First of all, many thanks to Melanie for directing me to this amazing, heartbreaking peice of art.

From NPR:

Poet Kathleen Sheeder Bonanno's new collection of poems, Slamming Open the
Door, documents the aftermath of the murder of her daughter Leidy Bonanno.

Leidy was found dead in her apartment in 2003, strangled with a telephone
cord by an ex-boyfriend. She had recently graduated from nursing school.

Two of the book's poems have been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and poet
Sharon Olds calls the work "a gift of power, truth, rage, and beauty."

Do yourself a huge favor and click here to listen to the Fresh Air interview and read some of the collection's poems.

Death Barged In

In his Russian greatcoat,
slamming open the door

with an unpardonable bang,

and he has been here ever since.

He changes everything,

rearranges the furniture,

his hand hovers by the phone;

he will answer now, he says;

he will be the answer.

Tonight he sits down to dinner

at the head of the table

as we eat, mute;

later, he climbs into bed

between us.

Even as I sit here,

he stands behind me

clamping two

colossal hands on my shoulders

and bends down

and whispers to my neck:

From now on,

you write about me.

Personal Motto

I won't tell you how I got there, but Google landed me on a wiki article detailing some very useful instructions on how to choose a "personal motto". I found the idea very fascinating. Here you go:

Step 1. Decide what kind of person you are. Your motto should have something to do about what you like to do, or enjoy being a part of.

Step 2. Choose a motto that no one else has! It is important that no one else has the same motto, do not choose theirs, and do not tell them yours, until you have it.

Step 3. Don't over-use your motto. You don't want to walk up to someone and just blurt out your motto. It's all about having one when the time is right!

Step 4. Add your motto to the bottom of your emails as a daily reminder.

Brilliant! Sure, step 2 contradicts itself (can't tell it if I don't have it). And nevermind that step 3 (which is completely awesome) contradicts step 4. And don't worry that it isn't very clear why one would need a personal motto in the first place, or in what circumstance it would be "right" to reveal that motto (since this is what it's all about). I'm thinking I should get one.

I know I'm breaking the secrecy implied in step 2, but...any ideas?

Cass McCombs on Job Satisfaction

There is work. There is play. There is play that is work, and play that is play. And work that is work, and in only one of these lies happiness.

Cass McCombs: The Executioner's Song

Advertising Gone Bad

I don't know what it is about a baby gleefully holding a razor to his (or her?) face that makes me want to go out and buy the new Gillette Fusion. But it does.

Check out the 15 Creepiest Vintage Ads of All Time.

R.I.P. McNamara

Today Robert McNamara died. Read about his fascinating life in this NYT obit. Several years ago Errol Morris filmed one of my favorite documentaries of all time on McNamara's life, The Fog of War.

Two Weeks

This is one of the best songs I've heard this year. The drumming is nails.

Read This Poem. Now.

Joe Plicka (poet, teacher, and friend), has published a beautiful poem with Anti-Poetry. To read it click here. He visits this site from time to time, so leave a comment and tell him he's crazy and/or brilliant.

Dancing on Lime Green

I grew up in rural Idaho with no MTV and very little pop music in the home. What I got came from Saturday morning radio (Casey Kasem’s Top 40) and my older brother and sister (AC/DC, Ratt, Def Leppard, etc.) It seems I was born with a fascination for pop music that has never quite left me (as you can plainly read). One of my earliest memories, and most certainly my earliest musical memory, is from about the time I was in Kindergarten. My oldest sister Alison came home one night, having borrowed a record from her friend. She went into our front room and put the vinyl on the turntable and let it spin. I spent the remainder of the entire evening dancing around on our shaggy green carpet to “Beat It”, “Billy Jean”, and “Thriller”. I’ve always appreciated Michael Jackson as an artist. There is a lot that can be said about him, great and terrible. But I’ll always remember green shag carpet and Eddie Van Halen’s unmistakable guitar in “Beat It”, driving a five year old boy mad with joy.

What are your earliest musical memories?

Lynchian

What is David Lynch up to these days besides making really weird films, you ask? Well, let me tell you. He's up to Interview Project. Over the course of a twenty thousand mile road trip his crew would stop at random and talk to the men and women of this great nation. There is a fascinating humanity on display in these vignettes (uploaded for your viewing pleasure at the rate of one per day. I suppose any life is worth considering for at least that long).