Posts published in “Life”

Abraham Lincoln: President. Emancipator. Beardo. Poet?

June 10, 2010 |

Yeah, that last one got me too, but apparently there’s a poem published in The Sangamo Journal in 1838 that is attributed to Lincoln. Wild, right? Even better is that it’s dark as hell which you know just sends me into a tizzy. Read it below.

The Suicide’s Soliloquy

Here, where the lonely hooting owl
Sends forth his midnight moans,
Fierce wolves shall o’er my carcase growl,
Or buzzards pick my bones.

No fellow-man shall learn my fate,
Or where my ashes lie;
Unless by beasts drawn round their bait,
Or by the ravens’ cry.

Yes! I’ve resolved the deed to do,
And this the place to do it:
This heart I’ll rush a dagger through,
Though I in hell should rue it!

Hell! What is hell to one like me
Who pleasures never know;
By friends consigned to misery,
By hope deserted too?

To ease me of this power to think,
That through my bosom raves,
I’ll headlong leap from hell’s high brink,
And wallow in its waves.

Though devils yell, and burning chains
May waken long regret;
Their frightful screams, and piercing pains,
Will help me to forget.

Yes! I’m prepared, through endless night,
To take that fiery berth!
Think not with tales of hell to fright
Me, who am damn’d on earth!

Sweet steel! come forth from your sheath,
And glist’ning, speak your powers;
Rip up the organs of my breath,
And draw my blood in showers!

I strike! It quivers in that heart
Which drives me to this end;
I draw and kiss the bloody dart,
My last—my only friend!

Neat! So metal.

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An architectural critique of sofa forts.

June 10, 2010 |

Thoughts

I found a link to an article with architectural critiques of children’s sofa cushion forts on BoingBoing and it’s so damned funny and great I feel compelled to share with all of you. Here are a couple I thought particularly good.

At first glance the composition appears unintentional and the construction shoddy. But further investigation reveals a clear delineation between indoor/outdoor space with a design focus on protection through the use of barrier. Planes are shifted off the orthogonal to accommodate function; as a side effect it relieves inhabitants from a harsh Euclidian geometry. Grade B

Good God gentlemen, you’re a mess! You need walls, you need a roof. Get to work man! Grade: F

I know that it’s strongly reminiscent of Maddox’s critiques of children’s art, but it’s definitely more highbrow. And, really, can you ever get enough of insulting children? I don’t think so.

Check out both parts for more chuckles here:

Couch Cushion Architecture; A Critical Analysis

Couch Cushion Architecture; A Critical Analysis 2

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A list of “Your Momma” jokes as told by me.

June 4, 2010 |

Thoughts

Your momma’s so fat people often complain of her enormous girth on airplanes.

Your momma’s so fat she has trouble reaching her toes, which is actually common enough for people of moderate obesity and pregnant women.

Your momma’s so fat that her doctor is worried for her health.

Your momma’s so ugly that people do not find her attractive and, really, it’s only due to alcohol that you’re here at all.

Your momma’s so lazy that her work regularly goes unfinished.

Your momma’s so fat she suffers from congestive heart disease.

Your momma’s so mean that people do not like to be around her very much and few will call on her birthday.

Your momma’s so cruel that she’s been put on trial for neglect.

Your momma’s so peaceful that people often compare her to The Buddha.

Your momma’s so stupid that she has trouble doing the rudimentary math that her job at the grocery store requires.

Your momma’s so smelly that people politely try to recommend that she shower more often.

Your momma’s so stupid that she made a mistake on her taxes and was audited by the IRS.

Your momma’s so ugly that she has terrible self-esteem issues.

Your momma’s so fat that she can no longer get out of bed, instead relying on you to bring her food and bathe her.

Your momma’s so old that you had her placed in a home where she could be cared for properly.

Your momma’s so old that she remembers when her father returned from World War II.

Your momma’s so old that she regrets squandering her youth and is very bitter because of it.

Your momma’s so fat that when she walks down the street young children will point and then be hushed by their mothers so your momma doesn’t get offended.

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How to pick a bicycle in a world of choice with limited resources.

June 3, 2010 |

Thoughts

Wow. Yesterday’s post about how I’m a fraidy-cat and need to stop being such a wuss has brought people out of the woodwork regarding the bicycle purchase. Good to know that a) people read my blatherings and b) people are in support of the bike purchase. Thanks, everyone! Though Michael did tell me he thinks it’s a good idea I DON’T drink whiskey since it will lead to a lot more shit talking.

I responded to him by asking if there’s actually more shit to talk?

SO, now I have to decide what sort of bicycle I want to get. And I’m currently overwhelmed by the choices. Do I want to get a road bike? Charles said that they are for assholes and commuters, but I’m kind of an asshole, so maybe that’s the right choice? Do I want a touring bike? A hybrid bike? A cruiser? Do I actually want a mountain bike even though I’m pretty sure I don’t?

And what size? The table on About.com seems to indicate that I want something in the 23-24″ range since I’m 6’1″ with a 34″ inseam. But what range would be comfortable?

And then there’s the issue of money. Since I won’t be working the next few weeks at all, I don’t want to drop a whole lot of money on this thing, especially since it’s my first bike in a decade and a half. Really, it’s just for putting around town and getting some exercise, so it doesn’t need to be all crazy and shit. I don’t need the 4000 dollar carbon fiber bike that weighs like 3 pounds. I wouldn’t mind spending 150-200 dollars on the thing. It’s enough that I won’t be buying a completely thrashed piece of crap, but not so much that if it gets broken or stolen that I’ll be devastated.

I’ve been reading the Brooklyn Craig’s List classifieds, but all it’s doing is making me feel overwhelmed.

Any thoughts out there, interwebs land?

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A handful of things I am a little afraid of but want to do this summer because I am afraid of them. UPDATE: one additional thing added.

June 2, 2010 |

Thoughts

Otherwise known as, “Stop being such a fucking pussy, Joe.” This is really all a part of this whole introspection kick I’ve been on recently, so it’s not surprising to me that I feel motivated to do something with these feelings. Funny thing, I had a drink with Adam last night, who I referenced in my previous introspection post, and he answered the questions I posed at the very end of the post about what to do with all this newfound awareness. His answer? A very simple, “Have patience,” meaning to take a step back and check myself when I find myself getting all worked up about some stupid thing or worrying about nothing or whatever. I thought that was pretty good. Thanks, Adam.

Back on track, there are a few things I’d like to do this summer. In no particular order, they are:

Get a tattoo. I don’t have any, even though I’ve been thinking about getting one since I was 11. I think the main reason I don’t have any is that I’m a little scared of permanence. I’m not able to easily make long lasting decisions, and a tattoo, though mundane, is one of those decisions. I’ve never been able to decide on anything long enough that I wanted to keep it in my skin for the rest of my life. But, you know what? I think I’m just being a big pussy la la about it and just need to do it. I mean, why the fuck not? My body is already covered with reminders of past mistakes, so why not just make a choice and go for it?
My friend Charles has planned a dinosaur-themed party for his birthday in a few weeks. Part of the plan is to get dinosaur tattoos. He sent me a link to East River Tattoo which is right in our neighborhood. I particularly like shop owner Duke’s work. His pieces look like old wood prints, which is a fairly different style. I think it’s real cool.
Ride a bicycle around NY. Let’s be honest, I don’t exercise enough. I know it. You know it. Everyone god damned knows it. And, now that I live in Greenpoint, a biking hot spot to be certain, I feel like I really want to get out there and just bicycle. Problem is I haven’t really ridden in like 16 years. I’m not worried that I won’t be able to ride a bike. I am worried, however, about all the street traffic in the neighborhood. Again, this is totally just me being a complete pussy. I have zero problem driving a car all over town, and that has a whole lot more potential for fucking things up. Buying a bike is no significant financial burden. I even have a spot to put it away in the backyard of my building.
So what’s stopping me? The answer? Nothing. I’m just being a complete idiot about it. In the immortal words of Freddie Mercury….. (warning: naked girls on bikes in the video.)
Drink whiskey. I am a beer and wine man. I don’t often drink liquor mostly because I feel like I’ve fucked myself up on it so many times that my body just says, “No thanks.” Fuck you, body. Don’t get me wrong. I love beer and I love wine, but I need to stop feeling intimidated by good ol’ whiskey and just broaden my palette. I don’t want to do shots of the stuff, but I do want to develop an appreciation of it in the same way that I can appreciate a great beer or an amazing bottle of red. Stop being a pussy, Joe, and just drink the whiskey.
I mean, what would The Clancy Brothers say? Probably this:

I bet there are some other things I’m worried about doing that I just need to get over and do, but these have been at the forefront of my consciousness recently. Do any of you feel this way about things? What have you been afraid of doing that you haven’t yet done but that you think you should? I can’t be the only weirdo out there that thinks like this.

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Introspection, is it for the birds?

June 1, 2010 |

Thoughts

With all this newly found free time I have, I’ve come to realize a few things about myself. Typically introspection is not my game. I prefer instead to blindly run through life without a clue about why I do things or why I am the way I am. I think it provides a more comfortable background for being the sort of absurd bastard that I am. Nevertheless, in the quiet moments, I have learned some things.

First, I am essentially an anxious person. If I have nothing to worry about—and often I don’t—I will manufacture something to be stressed out about, something the make me lose sleep. It’s like anxiety is the fuel for the engine of my life. It’s funny because I’s always thought of myself as sort of an easy going person, but the evidence does not lie. You’ll find plenty of examples of me bitching about being stressed out on this site. They’re everywhere.

Next, I am horrible at being alone. I spent a lot of time in my past relationship desperately seeking alone time, but now that all I have is alone time I don’t want it. I don’t want to go back to the intensely togetherness of living with someone, but I wish I had someone to play with basically all the time. If you’re reading this and in New York, you’ve gotten a call or text from me beseeching you to come and while away an afternoon with me. For example, I’ve been trying to get my friend Adam to hang out for weeks, but he is constantly scheduled and busy. I’ve been trying all sorts of peer pressure tactics—both vinegar and honey—but to no avail. If you’ve turned me down, I’m not mad.

Next, I am terrible at saying “no” to things. This ties in with the last bit of revelatory self awareness. If a friend calls me and asks me to go out and I’ve been out every night for three weeks and desperately need sleep and have work early the next day, I will say “yes” every time. The thought of saying “no” makes me anxious (see?) enough that I just don’t do it. Life is too short for “no”s and “later”s. Have fun and enjoy it. But once in a while, you probably need to sleep too. This is a lesson I am learning. Then again, as Stephin Merritt once sang, “There’ll be time enough for sleeping when we’re dead. You can have a velvet pillow for your head. But tonight I think I’d rather just go dancing.”

The real question is what to do with all this knowledge? What does a man do with awareness of self? Change? Understand? Regret? Enlighten? Do my motivations change by being understood? Or do I keep spinning the same wheel, a hamster perpetually running but making no process?

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The Onion: “Dept. Of Evil: ‘All Of You Must Die'”

May 27, 2010 |

About Writing, Thoughts and Writing

I feel like The Onion wrote this article just for me. I think this passage will illustrate what I’m mean.

Although the Department of Evil has not yet announced the exact timetable for the death of all, it recommends citizens make their peace with doomed relatives and spouses immediately, as the hour of their ending draws ever nigh and will be upon them as soon as the necessary funding has been authorized by the House Appropriations Committee.

“This budget approval is merely a pitiful, niggling formality, for soon we’ll be free to swarm across the land draining the life-pus out of all you quivering mortal worms,” Reynolds said. “Doubt us not: Come the wintertide, you all shall die, and die you will. Sorry, I meant ‘must.’ Die you must!”

Really though, you should just head on over to The Onion and read the damn article. Then come back and tell me what you think. It’s easily the funniest thing I’ve read on The Onion all day.

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The Amazing Painting of Jeremy Geddes

May 27, 2010 |

Thoughts

I first encountered the work of Jeremy Geddes, an Australian painter, with a series of zombie paintings he did. I would link you, but they are no longer on his site. Recently he came to my attention with his series of Cosmonaut paintings, each featuring a sole Cosmonaut floating in vaguely Christ-like poses through a variety of locales. I like them not just because they are masterfully executed but because you can’t really tell if the Cosmonaut is dead or just weightless. I like to think he’s dead, but that’s just me; I listen to metal.

Go on over to his site and check out the work.

While you’re there, I’d like this. Thanks. My birthday is coming up.

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