Archive for April, 2007

Go see this play. It’s pricey (20 bucks a pop) but so good and bold. I need someone to talk about it with. Friend Beatrix says it’s an elaborate excuse for an extramarital affair; I think it has to be more than that. The Captain is interested in Marxin’ it up. Nah. The Enquirer provides a dopey reading about the Nature of Love. Blah.
New Stage Collective, Main Street. Until May 20th.

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Story of the Day

Note: I’m trying to read a short story every day, and blogging it when the notion strikes me.

Read “The Great Amphibian” by Michelle Richmond today, which won the 2006 Mississippi Review prize. To see a list of her publications, click here. Wow. I really need to read more of her work, as she incorporates a kind of magic-that-isn’t that I’ve tried (and failed at) only once, in a workshop when magic realism seemed to be the thing to do. Hummingbirds flying out of human hearts, skin turning to clay, hands mysteriously going completely numb…the class had it all (though two of my examples come from the same writer and the other is mine, and doesn’t sound as spectacular as the other two). Richmond’s “magic” was a grandfather who could walk along the bottom of bodies of water, and a peculiar lake where old men raced toy yachts, wore funny gloves, and failed to help a man who fell (was pushed) in the water by a newcomer. All from the perspective of the very-pregnant granddaughter of The Great Amphibian himself, who had disppeared under water one day, and never surfaced. I won’t give away the ending.

Anyone read her?

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More Food Terror

Last one. Promise.

The clip’s from a documentary called “Our Daily Bread.” I haven’t seen it, but my understanding is that there’s no narration or dialogue–just the sounds of the agrobiz. The film’s German (I think), and I’m struck by how much cleaner the processing plants look than pix I’ve seen of such things over here. There’s a website with brief clips of more poetic images (my fave is a field of sunflowers being dusted with chemicals), if you can’t hang. Because it is quite disturbing. But shouldn’t we always be as aware as possible of the systems we participate in? I’d like to get my hands on a copy of the film. Anybody know how? Without, you know, spending any cash?

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1. Go Ohio! Dennis Kucinich introduces articles of impeachment for Veep Dickie.

2. How-to guide to facism. America pretty much has it covered, according to this Guardian article. Funny thing is that one of my Art Academy students made pretty much the same argument in an essay last year. Albeit in a somewhat less articulate fashion.

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Story of the Day

In news of the less-alarming variety, I read a great short story in The Furnace Review yesterday, which reminds me of Judy Budnitz’s “Nice Big American Baby.” Check out the story “Prenatal” by Hal Niedzviecki here.

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Do Bees Have AIDS?

If you haven’t yet been terrified by the disappearance of honeybees in the U.S. and abroad, you should be. Though it’s not clear if Einstein really said it, the quote “If the bee disappeared off the surface of the globe, then man would only have four years of life left,” even if hyperbolic or falsely attributed, ought to make everyone sit up and take notice. The facts are that we do depend on bees for food, and their population has dramatically declined, whether it be due to cell phones, cancer, or immuno-deficiency. Not even Monsanto or ConAgra has the power to bring back the bees.

For more terrifying food truths, watch The Future of Food. I’m curious if Veace did yet; I swore when she did she’d change her mind about the medical industry being the most contradictory and corrupt segment of business–though it comes in right on the heels of the food growers/producers/manufacturers.

I’ll be here, chewing my nails, waiting for the end of the world.

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Summer People by Brian Groh
–He’s the brother of a friend, and the book release party was last weekend–at a bar in Cheviot! I’m actually planning to start this tonight. I love first novels! One day I hope to have one…

Old Journals
–Reliving the months during my senior year in college when I was broke and living with my mom again. Not the cure for a rainy day, trust me.


The Project
–Since I’ve determined I can’t really write at a computer, because of my compulsive-editing disorder, handwriting is the mode of operation. Hence (maybe) the carpal tunnel thang.


–Don’t know how I feel about this one yet. When we got the new TV, I re-watched seasons one and two of Deadwood. Someday, too, I’ll write about this show. Maybe both of them. Hell, maybe *every* HBO show.

Marie Antoinette
–Don’t know I felt about this one, either. I really want to like Sofia Coppola, though I can’t make myself like Kirsten Dunst. Pretty, but…what? A critique of contemporary young celebrities? Isn’t there more to be said than that?

–Nothing needs to be said.

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