Stuff I'm Thinking About

Poetry Month is Here!

Rustoleum — Fri, 04 Apr 2008 22:39:59 GMT

And so is Spring! Here's a poem to commemorate both: These, I, Singing in Spring THESE, I, singing in spring, collect for lovers, (For who but I should understand lovers, and all their sorrow and joy? And who but I should be the poet of comrades?) Collecting, I traverse the garden, the world—but soon I pass the gates, Now along the pond-side—now wading in a little, fearing not the wet, Now by the post-and-rail fences, where the old stones thrown there, pick’d from the fields, have accumulated, (Wild-flowers and vines and weeds come up through the stones, and partly cover them—Beyond these I pass,) Far, far in the forest, before I think where I go, Solitary, smelling the earthy smell, stopping now and then in the silence, Alone I had thought—yet soon a troop gathers around me, Some walk by my side, and some behind, and some embrace my arms or neck, They, the spirits of dear friends, dead or alive—thicker they come, a great crowd, and I in the middle, Collecting, dispensing, singing in spring, there I wander with them, Plucking something for tokens—tossing toward whoever is near me; Here! lilac, with a branch of pine, Here, out of my pocket, some moss which I pull’d off a live-oak in Florida, as it hung trailing down, Here, some pinks and laurel leaves, and a handful of sage, And here what I now draw from the water, wading in the pondside, (O here I last saw him that tenderly loves me—and returns again, never to separate from me, And this, O this shall henceforth be the token of comrades—this Calamus-root shall, Interchange it, youths, with each other! Let none render it back!) And twigs of maple, and a bunch of wild orange, and chestnut, And stems of currants, and plum-blows, and the aromatic cedar: These, I, compass’d around by a thick cloud of spirits, Wandering, point to, or touch as I pass, or throw them loosely from me, Indicating to each one what he shall have—giving something to each; But what I drew from the water by the pond-side, that I reserve, I will give of it—but only to them that love, as I myself am capable of loving. --- Walt Whitman, "Leaves of Grass"

SF Santacon today!

Rustoleum — Sat, 15 Dec 2007 17:19:09 GMT

WOO HOOO! It's our first Santacon/Santarchy, and the drama is already loaded on the sleigh! Apparently, the disorganizers elected to have some of the festivities in OAKTOWN instead of exclusively in San Francisco, and the sturm und drag is raging! Of course, I think we'll be hitting SF by the end of the day . . we're starting at 11 am, so Santa knows we'll have PLENTY of time to get our drink on and get OakLANDish, then do the bridge and tunnel thing and get into the City. Will report with photos/mug shot/police blotter once the dust has settled.

Beowulf is HOTTTT!!!

Rustoleum — Mon, 26 Nov 2007 00:49:58 GMT

Ok, so we braved the maddening crowds of the post-Thanksgiving, Black Friday crowds who've blown their wad on tchotches and useless gifts (except for the things for me of course!), and went to see Beowulf: IMAX 3D. And if it wasn't for the IMAX and 3D, I'm not sure that there is that much to the movie to hold my attention. I'm bummed that Neil Gaiman didn't do a better job with the script. Let me just say that I'm hoping for the director's cut, where the conveniently placed arms, cups, heads, or poles obscurred Beowulf's manhood. Oh well . . . suffice to say his body model was QUITE well built, especially for 504 A.D. Didn't realize abs were so prominent back in the day. Oh yeah, and Angelina looks pretty hot too . . . . though the snake tail is kinda creepy. But her high-heeled feet and walking on water were pretty sweet.

New name, same guy

Rustoleum — Mon, 15 Oct 2007 22:49:37 GMT

Well, it seems SEVERAL of my friends have been changing their names (Junebug, Thunder), so I figured I was due for an upgrade . . . though I've been called Rustoleum since high school, am I just trying to grasp at my youth? Relive those painful days of awkward surges of hormones, strangely growing arms and legs, and all that uncoordinatedness? Well, sure . . . it all contributed to what I am today . . . and I'm fine with that. Or maybe I should go with my Unitarian Universalist Jihadi name, Brother Shotgun of Love and Mercy. Though that is a mouthful. Still feeling a little unsettled here, I'm hoping that the Bay Area starts to provide more diversion and joy than it has thus far . . . I guess every place is really just another place to live and work and play, and sometimes it's tougher here than other places, mainly due to traffic, crowds, and distance. I think I need more play, more life, and less work.

My Daemon

Rustoleum — Thu, 14 Jun 2007 04:50:49 GMT

Ok, this is such a geeky/web/nerd thing to do, but I've been reading the "His Dark Materials" trilogy by Philip Pullman. I've finished "The Golden Compass" and am about halfway through "The Subtle Knife". These books I think are geared toward teens, but the topic is interesting, although the writing is a little pedestrian. ANYWAY, my nerdy friends Khrist and Wayne have taken the quiz to find their Daemon (pronounced DEMON, I think, and the a and e are mashed together), which in the books is a companion/soul that changes form when you're a child and settles on a shape and and character as you mature. It's a reflection of your true self, and acts as a conscience/guide/companion. As you can imagine, there are a bunch of internet quizzes where you can find out your daemon, and I took several, but the offical movie site (yes, it will be a movie this winter) has the best one, because it give you a daemon with a name. Mine is Aspadora, and she's a Whippet . . . . hmmmm . . . . I'm just not sure about that, and unfortunately I can't put the link in here that lets you evaluate my daemon assignment. If you're interested, let me know and I'll email you the link you can evaluate. I have 12 days before my daemon becomes permanent. The qualities of Aspadora aren't bad, I'm just not sure a Whippet adequately represents me . . . .oh well. http://www.goldencompassmovie.com/

Native Moments

Rustoleum — Fri, 06 Apr 2007 23:09:19 GMT

SInce it's National Poetry Month, and I've been reading "Leaves of Grass" by Walt Whitman, I thought I'd post what I think is a great expression of friends and life ... part of this one I'd like on a tattoo. For some reason, word tattoos have been fascinating me lately. NATIVE moments! when you come upon me—Ah you are here now! Give me now libidinous joys only! Give me the drench of my passions! Give me life coarse and rank! To-day, I go consort with nature's darlings—to-night too; I am for those who believe in loose delights—I share the midnight orgies of young men; I dance with the dancers, and drink with the drinkers; The echoes ring with our indecent calls; I take for my love some prostitute — I pick out some low person for my dearest friend, He shall be lawless, rude, illiterate — he shall be one condemn'd by others for deeds done; I will play a part no longer — Why should I exile myself from my companions? O you shunn'd persons! I at least do not shun you, I come forthwith in your midst—I will be your poet, I will be more to you than to any of the rest. --- Walt Whitman, 1871-1872 Leaves of Grass