Thursday, December 08, 2005

Once again I am “Lost in a Roman Wilderness of Pain”:

PT's freakshow

Thought for the Day:
It is possible to store the mind with a million facts and still be entirely uneducated.
Alec Bourne

It’s No-Love-Thursday:
Once again it’s that time of the week when the hardy souls brave the elements to celebrate this most esteemed of Drinking Clubs. Its members include the illuminati of the Bar-Set, a fast moving and hard living group of people, who are bound together with a mutual distrust of the powers that be and admiration for quick wit and cutting barbs.

Since it is 4 below and 7 inches of snow projected, we shall see who if any of these intrepid souls dare test themselves against not only each other but Mother Nature. I dear readers at this early hour do plan to count myself among their noble number. Truth be known, it helps that I only have to walk 150 feet to be at my favorite bar for the meeting.

On Work:
The Ravens continue to come and eat out my liver everyday, reinforcing daily the idea that I should have not pissed off the Gods. But after a well earned 9 hours of sleep, I feel at least capable of thoughtful interaction and increased grant writing skills.

Missed Data:
I was reminded by my loving Flower, that on Tuesday night out with Sky Captain, we engaged in our first annual poetry slam, with poems written by a mentally ill, drug addicted lady who frequents that particular establishment.

Yes, it was a very Jack Kerouac moment, until I was forced to read a poem about the authors’ menses, the opening line of which started out with something like “Get your tongue out of my mouth”. The things I will do for art.

Your Bill for Today:
SONNET 6
Then let not winter's ragged hand deface
In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill'd:
Make sweet some vial; treasure thou some place
With beauty's treasure, ere it be self-kill'd.
That use is not forbidden usury,
Which happies those that pay the willing loan;
That's for thyself to breed another thee,
Or ten times happier, be it ten for one;
Ten times thyself were happier than thou art,
If ten of thine ten times refigured thee:
Then what could death do, if thou shouldst depart,
Leaving thee living in posterity?
Be not self-will'd, for thou art much too fair
To be death's conquest and make worms thine heir.

Quote of the Day:
I happen to feel that the degree of a person's intelligence is directly reflected by the number of conflicting attitudes she can bring to bear on the same topic.
Lisa Alther, Kinflicks, 1975

I remain, your invisible friend and court appointed attorney:

JQP esq.