Thursday, April 03, 2008

True Story

On the day of april 15th

An hour after sunrise

A giant tree, the one in the front yard

Starting whispering stories

About a collapse

About splitting in half

No one could hear

But it so happened

I was sleeping

under a lazy sun snooping through window slits

But I heard no tree

I don’t remember dreaming trees

Only the simple tone

of my friend

telling me to go

To go in her car

To drive away

“its ok”


Next to the lot

Where the car was parked

A branch the size of a tree

Hollow and buzzing

Lay on asphalt

Looking innocent, out of context

My three roommates

Questioning me

“where did you go?”

“who said you could take my car?”

I don’t know, I don’t know

The branch teases me

Nonchalantly mixing with gravity

But the branch lay next to the car’s former spot

And not directly

Where the car would be

Teasing me

Young people who wanted you

Fade away

They move for the mountains

Slowly stay where they lay

But their colors become gentler

Don’t take it personally


Everyone who speaks

To you

Means the words they say

Even if you cannot decipher the meaning

They mean them any way

But don’t take them personally


Days are inches on a hem

Growing slowly towards the floor

The light grows quieter

In the late afternoon

As it softly surrounds former half shadows

That once framed your face

But don’t take it personally

It is all obliged to grow dim

The closer

You get

A gaseous mirage of oxygen

followed me

under water

I slipped down

closer to dirty sand

My hands

gripping rubbery vines running towards the sun

allow panicked breathes to escape

My lungs sucked out the air

from between sheets of

glass

I awoke tasting

a transparent film of juice on my lips

trickling to my tongue

There is a thought across from mine

faceless, opaque,

demanding that I follow

to the bottom

where I find

unpredictable doors

Monday, March 31, 2008

telos

“its gotta be about something”
looking at the his hands

Not looking at his hands

Simultaneously

“meaning. Maybe it’s a wall we can’t pass”

“maybe, but probably not”

Both looking at their hands

Both not looking at their hands

In a single motion everything acts

Exactly the same

Without touching a hair

The world reacts by feigning non-action

Or so he thinks to himself

Or so he is tempted to try to find common ground

About with

himself

Monday, March 17, 2008

hooray.

Authority withers

Descends into the hubris,

The hermeneutics

Of cloudiness

Blocking UV murderers as they penetrate

The green

Giving way to life

shuffling from one plank to the next

Chased by shark abandoned pirates

Gyrating with a million eyes

And patched knees

pre-given to falling

Into the ground

And becoming the delicate, long, finger pink brown worms

that work their way up,

their way around,

their way to a path

A moving from end to end

Traveling without traveling

Just traversing a span

On repeat.

people's court!!!! RBG!!!!

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

The less forward the more backward

maybe

bi-directional, eyes on the back of the head

one on top,
for breathing

in with a blink, out to shut off

another on bottom
for rooting
gravity to the sky
Seen
between blinks
accepting and denying the unpreventable
absorption
of what the sun has to offer

The less enlightened the more smarts

maybe

The thinking brain
creates a cloud
wringing itself
for rain
quitting while
in knots

The less delicate the uglier

maybe

Dirt wombs shout birth
for dying
intricate webs of dung
made gold
after baring the light
above ground

In Preparation for Later

Nobility found her place
Deep inside a mushroom patch
Constructed from band aids stuck
Patiently
By the semi focused minds
of twin sisters
waiting to rediscover their grove
of feelings
of meanings
in the space where
men
usually expect gold
or
time capsules ready to send them moonward

More Juice

New day
Because I said so
Because I keep saying it
Because no matter what I say
It keeps happening

Repeating, swerving
The same day
Over and over
Like a spiral moving forward
Revisiting the same arches
But in a different
Space, a future space
In comparison
To a past

artificial objects
sweet and sour drops
under the tongue
twisting

Past is in my left hand
And with future in my right
I juggle
And lick up the juices
Made from dropping
It all

Hopeful Monster

As an example of radical change, he gave flatfish — the flounder and its relations. These are descended from fish with the usual fishy symmetry: the same left-right symmetry that we have. Larval flounders have it, too. But as adults, flounders have a profound asymmetry — one side has been completely flattened. What’s more, they have deformed, twisted skulls, and an eye that has migrated from one side of the face to the other. It’s as though you had both eyes on the same side of your nose. How did they get this way?
Goldschmidt speculated that big changes like this could be caused in one step by a mutation acting on the developing embryo. Most such mutations, he suggested, would produce individuals that were plain monstrous, and doomed to die without issue. But every so often, one of these mutations would happen in an environment where it could be beneficial. Then, the individual sporting it would be a hopeful monster, because it might have an evolutionary future as the founder of a new lineage.

Wednesday, January 09, 2008

more beer for me Bee aches (all nytimes)

From Tap, Cask or Bottle

Blind Tiger Ale House, 281 Bleecker Street; (212) 462-4682; www.blindtigeralehouse.com.

d.b.a., 41 First Avenue; (212) 475-5097; www.drinkgoodstuff.com.

Jimmy's No. 43, 43 East Seventh Street (downstairs); (212) 982-3006; www.jimmysno43.com.

Standings, 43 East Seventh Street (street level); (212) 420-0671.

Burp Castle, 41 East Seventh Street; (212) 982-4576.

Heartland Brewery, multiple locations;www.heartlandbrewery.com.

Chelsea Brewing Company, Chelsea Piers, Pier 59 (at 18th Street); (212) 336-6440; www.chelseabrewingco.com.

Ginger Man, 11 East 36th Street, (212) 532-3740; www.gingerman-ny.com.

Waterfront Ale House, 540 Second Avenue (30th Street); (212) 696-4104, also at 155 Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn; (718) 522-3794; www.waterfrontalehouse.com.

Spotted Pig, 314 West 11th Street; (212) 620-0393; www.thespottedpig.com.

Borough Food & Drink, 12 East 22nd Street; (212) 260-0103; www.chinagrillmgt.com.







BEER B*TCHES!

Tasting Report: Solutions for a Hot Summer Day

Brasserie des Rocs Blonde $9 *** ½
25.4 ounces
Perfectly balanced, beginning with lively citrus, fruit and malt flavors and ending with refreshing hop bitterness.
(Importer: D & V International, Palm Beach Gardens, Fla.)

De Ranke XX Bitter $4.75 ***
11.2 ounces
Brisk and lively with great hop bitterness and saisonlike complexity. (Shelton Bros., Belchertown, Mass.)

Petrus Aged Pale $4.25 ***
11.2 ounces
Complex citrus and herbal flavors, refreshingly tart and sour.
(Win-It-Too, Santa Barbara, Calif.)

Orval Trappist Ale $6.50 ***
11.2 ounces
Spicy, bitter and very dry with a lingering touch of orange zest
and funk. (Merchant du Vin, Tukwila, Wash.)

Corsendonk Abbey Pale Ale $4.50 ** ½
(Agnus Trippel) 12 ounces
Brisk and refreshing with fruity flavors and a crisp bitterness.
(Phoenix Imports, Baltimore)

Brugse Zot $4 ** ½
11.2 ounces
Lightly fruity, smooth and refreshing; Pilsner-like with an ale texture.
(Win-It-Too, Santa Barbara, Calif.)

Affligem Blond $2.10 ** ½
12 ounces
Light, foamy and gulpable with well-balanced malt and hop flavors. (Star Brand Imports, White Plains)

De Koninck $3 ** ½
11.2 ounces
Amber with a malty, mineral earthiness and refreshing bitterness. (Belukus Marketing, Houston)

St. Pieters Zinnebir $12 ** ½
25.4 ounces
Light and lively with floral and spicy citrus aromas and flavors.
(Shelton Bros., Belchertown, Mass.)

BEST VALUE
Grimbergen Blonde $2.35 ***
11.2 ounces
Light, foamy and fresh with lingering fruit flavors.
(Scottish & Newcastle Importers, San Rafael, Calif.)

ahem, new year, new weird, new face of politics

Ron Paul's Bloody Victory
In cyberspace, no one can hear a disembowled libertarian scream
by Chris Thompson
January 8th, 2008 7:09 PM





Lettuce B-Free won't give out her real name; she prefers her World of Warcraft moniker. She grew up on Staten Island and moved to Florida, where she shares an apartment with a friend and works in retail. There are two things that get her up in the morning: online gaming and the maverick libertarian politics of Republican presidential candidate Ron Paul. "He's an amazing man, and I agree with almost every one of his positions," she says. "I was raised to have a deep respect for the Constitution, and wow, he wants to bring it back!" On December 26, Lettuce B-Free found a way to bring the two together: organizing a Ron Paul rally in the World of Warcraft universe.
"One of our members, who went by the name of whoisronpaul, came up with the idea," Lettuce B-Free says. "And we just jumped on it. . . . So at like three in the morning, me and a bunch of people got together and signed a group charter. And it's been really fun chaos ever since."
Ron Paul's supporters have already distinguished themselves by their unorthodox campaigning—the blimp that's been floating around the South for the last month, the Guy Fawkes Day fundraising blitz. But running a virtual-campaign rally in an Internet gaming site must surely rank as one of the highlights of the season. The word went out through the online magazine World of Warcraft Insider, ronpaulforums.org, and the Wired blog. Soon, hundreds of people pledged to don their chain mail and shake their broadswords for Paul.
Unfortunately, there was one small complication one rarely encounters on the campaign trail: In World of Warcraft, you can get killed, usually by slavering beasts eager to rip you to shreds. Since all the Paul supporters would be playing new characters, they would be weak and all-too-vulnerable to monsters waiting to ambush them on the way to the rally point. In the days before the rally, Lettuce B-Free and a few other organizers hit the World of Warcraft universe, frantically fighting zombies and ogres in order to beef up enough characters to protect the newbies and act as bodyguards during the rally. Meanwhile, other players who hate Ron Paul's politics followed them around, taunting them and spitting on them (virtually).
Finally, the hour arrived: 8 p.m., New Year's Day. Almost 300 characters—barbarians, elves, gnomes, and green, mottled things—assembled at the small town of Kharanos, near the great dwarven city of Ironforge. They had to pick a rally point outside the big cities, because assembling so many characters in a crowded environment would slow the server down. Just before the march, Paul supporters milled around and typed snippets from the Constitution into their computers, where their characters bellowed them as text bubbles in the game.
Dozens of Ron Paul opponents donned characters of their own and milled around the edge of the crowd, where they challenged players to fight to the death.
"Unfortunately, there were folks who were there to harass us and try to stop the march," says Lettuce B-Free. "They were trying to get us to flag for [player vs. player mode], so they could kill us. They were spouting negative things, but we had already decided that we were going to be quiet and respectful and stay focused."
At 8:30, the march began, and Paul's supporters lined up single-file and tramped into Ironforge. Hecklers dogged them along the way, twirling their battleaxes and typing text bubbles like "He can't win," "He's going to ruin the economy," and "A vote for Ron Paul is a vote for socialism." The marchers chanted slogans as they boarded the tram for the human city Stormwind, and then it was on to the hamlet of Goldshare. Because she had pumped up her character to level 19, Lettuce B-Free was too busy fighting off flesh-rippers and other random beasties to look back on the crowd. But in Goldshare, she turned and gawked at what she'd created. "There was just this sea of names," she says. "The entire town was filled. That's when I realized how huge this was."
But soon Paul's supporters stumbled into more dangerous territory, and as fish-human hybrids tore the players to pieces, priest characters frantically worked their resurrection spells to keep the crowd from breaking apart. Finally, they reached Orgrimmar, a ghastly, reeking city of the orcs, which Paul supporters had agreed would serve as a stand-in for Washington, D.C. If they could storm its gates, Lettuce B-Free says, they would be symbolically taking their country back from the Beltway elites. Unfortunately, an army of Ron Paul opponents waited for them. They knew that once they got too close to the gates, all the characters would switch to player vs. player mode, and they could slaughter them at their leisure.
The bloodshed was epic. Orgimmar's guards automatically waded into the crowd and slashed left and right. Poisonous snakes slithered from crevices and sank their fangs into libertarians. Ron Paul opponents charged and struck a blow for the status quo. "I died twice," says Lettuce B-Free. "There was so much chaos. It was a mass battle." But Paul's supporters won the day, as characters breached the gates and stormed the city. The Constitution, it seems, was triumphant.
According to Lettuce B-Free, Paul's supporters plan to storm World of Warcraft again before the campaign is through. They'll have to use a different server, because the strain of accommodating so many characters slowed down the game. But they'll be back, she says. "This was great, because it was a bunch of mature players who were able to express themselves and talk politics." And maybe decapitate a troll or two.

Friday, December 21, 2007

Alan Rabinowitz



December 18, 2007
A Conversation With Alan Rabinowitz
Zoologist Gives a Voice to Big Cats in the Wilderness

By CLAUDIA DREIFUS

Among zoologists, Alan Rabinowitz is known as the Indiana Jones of wildlife conservation. But he is actually more the Dag Hammarskjold of biology.
That is because Dr. Rabinowitz, executive director of science and exploration at the Wildlife Conservation Society, is a kind of international diplomat for big cats — jaguars, leopards, pumas.
For 20 years, he has traveled the world, imploring the power elite of democracies and dictatorships to dedicate large parcels as reserves for these imperiled felines.
In the 1980s, he persuaded the leaders of Belize to establish the world’s first jaguar preserve. More recently, this Brooklyn-born biologist prevailed on the junta in Myanmar to transform 8,400 square miles of forest into the Hukawng Valley Tiger Reserve.
Dr. Rabinowitz, 53, recounts his Burmese adventures in a new book, “Life in the Valley of Death: The Fight to Save Tigers in the Land of Guns, Gold and Greed” (Island Press). An edited version of a two-hour conversation in New York follows.

Q. With so many of the world’s animals in danger, why do you mostly advocate for big cats?

A. Because cats get to the human psyche. People love big cats. If I go to a government and say, “If you don’t do something quickly, you’re going to lose your tigers,” they listen. If I say, “You’re about to lose all your wolves,” they won’t care. But leopards, tigers, jaguars — people have a huge admiration for them,
My real goal is to save large sections of pristine wilderness for all types of wildlife. One way to do that is to make sure that the top predators have enough safe territory to thrive in. Because big cats need so much territory, when you save them, you’re really saving whole ecosystems and you’re saving the other animals down on the food chain. This is what’s called the “apex predator strategy” in conservation.
The other thing I’ve seen is that no government, even if they are doing a lot of development, wants to lose their big cats. Even when you’re talking to the most authoritarian of dictators, none of them wants to be the guy at the helm when the last of his country’s tigers go extinct.

Q. How does a conservationist negotiate with dictators? Do you employ special strategies?

A. I don’t go in with a plan. I just talk from my heart. These guys, they are used to people coming to them with hidden agendas. I think they can see that I don’t have any other than the wildlife.
When I first went to Burma-Myanmar, for instance, there wasn’t a lot of trust there (laughs). I was told, “You don’t look like a scientist.” But the situation for the Burmese tiger was desperate. Between habitat destruction and hunting, they were almost gone. We did surveys, and in a lot of areas where tigers were supposed to be, you saw none. I was pretty blunt about that.
Sometimes, personal things worked for me. In 2003, I was diagnosed with a slow-growing form of leukemia. Some of the toughest leaders in the Burmese military, they just couldn’t fathom why anyone with cancer was repeatedly coming to their country and going into the jungle when in their mind I should be meditating or having a more easy life. “So what if I have cancer?” I told them. “The tigers still have to have a home.” I think my personal situation helped win some trust.

Q. Because of gross human-rights violations, the military government of Myanmar is under economic sanctions from the United States. There are people who wonder how you could work with such a government. What’s your answer?

A. Tigers have no control over what human governments they live under. If we’re going to draw lines on what is an acceptable political landscape for saving wildlife, where can we work? Wildlife always ends up taking a back seat to what’s going on among humans — always. If we’re going to save wildlife, I’ve got to give it a front seat. Nothing we do hurts the people of Burma.
But if I based conservation on what I considered moral subjectivity, I’d be doing the wildlife no favor. And we’d be virtually guaranteeing the extermination of tigers from Burma. They’ve been almost hunted out for their skins and for the traditional-medicine trade.

Q. How are the tigers faring since the preserve was established?

A. Tigers don’t come back so quickly. When you’re down to very low numbers, you have to get a male and female just even meeting. With so few, it’s not easy for them to find each other. Even when you get them meeting, the young stay with the female for about three years. She doesn’t breed again until those young leave her. So if the tigers are coming back, we won’t know it for a few more years.
For the meanwhile — since hunting has been banned and since we’ve started some economic development projects for the local people — there’s been an increase in the prey-species that tigers eat: wild pigs and sambar deer. We’ve set up “camera traps” on animal trails where you can photograph everything that passes. We haven’t seen a lot of tigers yet.

Q. We understand that you’ve been trying to negotiate with the North Koreans to set up a wildlife sanctuary.

A. In the Demilitarized Zone, yes. We think there are a lot of animals in there. It’s forested. And because it’s so heavily fortified, there isn’t human settlement. We reached out to the North Koreans. We thought, why not make the DMZ into a peace park?
We first approached the North Koreans years ago to try to study the Siberian tiger that migrates into there. They wouldn’t let any Americans in. We were able to get one British scientist to visit their capital city, a birdwatcher. They never allowed him out of the city. There’s no story to tell there.

Q. What originally drew you to conservation?

A. As a child, I had this horrific stutter. In school, I was put in what was called the retarded classes. I was very angry that people couldn’t see past the stuttering. From the second grade on, I stopped talking, except to the little green turtle and the chameleon I kept at home.
Talking to the animals, I realized they had feelings. I didn’t know if they understood me. But I saw that they were exactly like me. They weren’t broken, but people mistreated them because they can’t communicate. I thought if these animals had a voice, people wouldn’t be able to crush them and throw them away. When I was a child, I promised the animals that if I ever got my voice back, I’d be their voice.
It makes me feel whole, knowing that I’m allowing more animals to live in this world. Every time I set up a protected area, I feel I’m paying them back for helping me speak. When we got Hukawng established, I thought, all those turtles, otters and tigers, they now have a chance to live.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

shibboleth

"Shibboleth” takes its title from the Old Testament story in which the ability to pronounce the word was used by the victorious Gileadites as a test to identify members of the tribe of Ephraim who were trying to sneak back into their home territory. Those who couldn’t say it correctly were revealed as Ephraimites and killed.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Gutai

The Gutai Manifesto
Yoshihara wrote the manifesto for the Gutai group in 1956. The full text of the "Gutai Manifesto" is available in English at the website of Japan's Ashiya City Museum of Art & History [2]. Among its preoccupations, the manifesto expresses a fascination with the beauty that arises when things become damaged or decayed. The process of damage or destruction is celebrated as a way of revealing the inner "life" of a given material or object:
"Yet what is interesting in this respect is the novel beauty to be found in works of art and architecture of the past which have changed their appearance due to the damage of time or destruction by disasters in the course of the centuries. This is described as the beauty of decay, but is it not perhaps that beauty which material assumes when it is freed from artificial make-up and reveals its original characteristics? The fact that the ruins receive us warmly and kindly after all, and that they attract us with their cracks and flaking surfaces, could this not really be a sign of the material taking revenge, having recaptured its original life?...." [3]

Transautomatism

Transautomatism
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
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Transautomatism is a modern style of painting, founded by Friedensreich Hundertwasser. It is a kind of surrealism, which also point of the viewer's fantasy. Different people see different things in the same picture. It is less what the artist wants us to see, more about how we interpret it. The transautomatism is based on the different styles which Hundertwasser developed, e.g. the spirals and drops.

Many of the Dream Last Night

Mental excretions
piling up
creating oily walls that talk
in the thousand languages of touch
Every brick every word
a window
leading between flicking dimensions
a dream
into
a dream
retelling the middle of tales
and letting go
of beginnings
and endings
as loose ouroboro tails
flailing to find one another
to make sense
of senselessness
under the guise
of sleep
***All poems are incorrectly formatted. Blogger.com does not allow me to format them they way I want to. saaaaaaaad.