Thursday, October 30, 2008

Photographs on College Brochures

Photographs on College Brochures

have very attractive people,
in attractive, well-tailored clothing.

There are very attractive plants, too,
in these photographs,
and very attractive architecture,
and very attractive computers,
which the very attractive people
type on, and look at, and smile at.

The pictures show lots of friends:
friends in a dorm hallway,
friends in the cafeteria,
friends at a sporting event-
all smiling friends.

There’s usually an attractive, white
woman in her late teens or early twenties,
wearing a skirt, checking her watch,
or holding a cup of coffee, or writing,
or putting one hand on her chin,
or walking down a path
while a light breeze gently blows her blonde
or brunette or red hair.

Frequently the attractive, white
woman in the skirt is having what
looks exactly like an intellectual
discussion with another person.
It must be an intellectual discussion
because they are in college now
and they are in the library
and they are talking with each other,
and the male student has a beard,
and wears glasses, and is holding
a book.

She has a smooth skin tone, a smile,
and in the picture you can see
the perfect amount of cleavage.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Everybody's Talking, or, My Trip to the Dentist

Dear Readers,

Right now I'm staying up too late and listening to the Meat Puppets on my iPod. It's funny, but I'm listening to the song, "Meat Puppets" on the album, "Meat Puppets" by the band "Meat Puppets."

I highly recommend "Meat Puppets," the debut Meat Puppets album. Be warned: Meat Puppets music is an acquired taste. It's very strange. A lot of people don't like it.

And now the song is "Everybody's Talking" and it speaks to me in a really cool way. I like it very much. It's one of the things that I know I like in a very powerful way.

The first time I remember listening to "Everybody's Talking" was a few weeks ago when I was getting some cavities filled at the dentist.

I felt tired and crazy that day. It was cold and I had ridden my bicycle over there. I was full of juice and electricity. The best way I know how to describe it is like this: that morning I wanted to paint something - hieroglyphics, maybe - with my fingers in a violent way, or I wanted to howl, or throw pinecones at cars that I saw driving by that morning. I wanted to slay Goliath- to sling a rock into the forehead of the Philistine Champion. And then I wanted to cut off his head. I wanted to hack at his neck with a sword. I wanted to parade the bloody head around the countryside and the cities and all the kingdoms of men, holding the giant's head in my fist by its hair.

I couldn't do any of that stuff - paint violently, throw pinecones, slay Goliath, though, in good company, but at the moment, the moment I'm now relating, (and of course you'll have no idea what it was to be inside my body at the time) but at the time shortly before my dentist appointment I found everything around me very funny and alive. It's as if gigantic things were going on all around me and underneath the surfaces of the things I saw with my natural eyes.

People were looking at me, too, and talking. I felt like people were looking at me and thinking I was Pestilence, one of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse. And I thought all those people I saw on my bike ride and all those people I saw in the dentist office were smiling at me, but really they were thinking that I was a destroying angel who had come to lay waste to their village.

That morning, the morning of my dentist appointment, I thought I wasn’t really a man who went to the office and filled out paperwork, a man who wore slippers around the house and followed the stock market- nor was I really myself.

I was a real-life mythological beast. I was a beast with horns and with flames coming out of my horns. The flames weren’t coming out like the fireworks on the Fourth-of-July, but like the fire that will come when Doomsday comes. A way you feel in your mind and in your groin.

In another moment that morning, in the dentist office, when I was flipping through an issue of Parenting magazine, or maybe when I was signing my name at the check-in desk, I felt like I had an armful of plump grapefruit and I was headed for the county fair at dusk. I was walking all the way there, making holes in the ground where I stepped with my boots. I was headed for the Zipper or the Graviton or I was just going to go there to spit sunflower seeds shells and pet goats.

I was going to cut in line, too. I was going to shove my way through the crowd, I was going to have a look of doom on my face, and I was going to get challenged to a knife fight. Certainly somebody was going to challenge me to a knife fight. And when that happened, when some kid took out a knife and stuck it into my stomach, making blood come out, I was going to expand- expand first like a peacock, and then like a lion killing another lion, like a giant squid squeezing a ship- I was going to expand and swallow the kid with the knife.

Yeah, that's the way I felt that morning, and I was there in the dentist chair wearing a paper bib and they were drilling and squirting stuff into my mouth and stuffing cotton into it and my spit was flying all over the place and the dentist's assistant would sometimes tell me to close my mouth and let the sucker thing suck the superfluous saliva out of my mouth. I had the iPod ear buds in my ears and I was listening to "Everybody's Talking" by the Meat Puppets. I could faintly hear the dentist and the assistant chat about the movies that were playing in the theatre- which movies they had seen lately, which movies they wanted to see. Their conversation was very casual. (I heard enough of their talk to call it casual, and when my eyes were open I deciphered their body language- the way the dentist and the assistant were moving gave them away- they were very civilized and attractive.) But the way my senses were heightened (or maybe I should say altered) that morning while I was in the dentist chair made me think that the whole situation was bigger and more important and more terrifying and more telling of the true nature of the universe than maybe it really was.


Friday, October 24, 2008


Dear Readers,

I like getting comments on my blog. They make me feel loved. Thanks for leaving comments, whoever you are.

It looks like my blog has started a little bit of a controversy. Well, no, let me be more precise. My blog didn't start the controversy; "Telemoonfa Time" just provided yet another forum for talking about a controversial subject. Read the comments on my post "The Emotional By-Products of a Yes-Vote on Prop 102" to see what I'm talking about.

Ooooo... it looks like somebody left a lot of comments on this very blog post, too! Hooray! I wonder what the comments say...


College Update

Hello Readers,

I am now in my sixth year of college. I'm still learning more about myself and the world and what I like and what I don't like in the world of academia. (I’m still learning how to jump through meaningless hoops, too.) I'm taking the General English Studies program, which really just lets me take a whole bunch of electives in English; it doesn’t really point me in a specific direction.

What I found out so far is that I don't like literary criticism very much. Well, sometimes I do, but sometimes I don't. And I found out that I don't like learning the phonetic alphabet by heart. And I found out that I quickly tire of taking classes on how to teach English well.

But I do like reading and writing. I'm going to take some creative writing classes next semester, and I look forward to that. Hopefully that will be good for me. Oh, and teaching English 105 is a spectacular experience. I'm having a lot of fun and learning a lot doing that.

I get to choose the topic for my Language and Linguistics class term paper, and I chose metaphors. These aren’t the metaphors in poems, really, but they’re the metaphors we unconsciously use in everyday life. As part of my research, I just started reading a fascination book, Metaphors we Live By by George Lakoff and Mark Johnson.

Google it. I gotta go.


News on TV

Hello readers,

Isn’t it funny how technology changes our lives and our minds? We get a new piece of equipment, like a cell phone or a hammer or a computer or an iPod, use it for a while, and then we think we need it.

This morning I read an article in the Lumberjack, the NAU student newspaper, titled, “NAZ Today fills void left by Channel 2 News” I quote from the article:

On Aug. 8, Charlie Hicks, NAU professor of electronic media and adviser for NAU Live!, read an article in the Arizona Daily Sun titled “Channel 2 News Unplugs,” informing him that KNAZ, the only news television program serving northern Arizona, would be closing due to falling advertising revenue and rising costs.

“Immediately when I found that out…I thought we needed to do something,” Hicks said. “It’s unacceptable to not have a television news broadcast in a town of 60,000.”

The last line is the most important: “It’s unacceptable to not have a television news broadcast in a town of 60,000.”

Ummm… to put things in perspective, remember that a long time ago, there was no TV news.

And a longer time ago, there was no TV. And people got along just fine. Some people still get along pretty well without a TV. Like me, for example. I’ve never owned my own TV and hope I never do. Mostly because I’m heavily influenced by the ideas of Neil Postman. One excellent book in particular by him that I love is called “How to Watch TV News.” It’s all about how the news as communicated through the medium of television is mostly entertainment designed to get ratings, and it distorts people’s views of reality, and it distorts people’s ideas about what is important and what is valuable.

So I disagree with Charlie Hicks. I don’t think northern Arizona needs its own TV news.


Thursday, October 23, 2008

Something Anything Nowhere Forever

A cloud of ideas, floating like a sea lion…
mists of mal-formation… uncontained,
dripping over no edges… there are no edges…
but it is dripping… bread dough…
the expanding universe…and big,
like the ocean to a fish, like the
heavens to a bird. Like all stories.
With blue in it, and red in it, and purple in it,
and pink and brown… the thumb of a rat
the voice of the black man on the corner

by the light post, his tear, his cheek…
the way she looked at you that night;
you got on the crowded bus with a suitcase

and a backpack, were driven away,
and became nothing...
you and I sat and talked, once...
The bones that make the body...
laughter, laughter. Behind our faces,
beneath our feet, wherever we don’t look…