chicken went down

chicken went down

our wonderful household is wonderful in our wonderful house: two cats, a rabbit still living and thriving indoors only. A legion of expired pets are buried or somehow inaccessibly disposed within property lines of our sweet residence. And so, as my blessed wife left for a week’s fun in Florida, her final pleas to me before closing the back door upon leaving were these: take out the garbage because it stinks; please make sure the cats have an extra bowl of water and a heaping bowl of food; please change the paper in the rabbit cage and see that Cici (the rabbit) has plenty of water and food too.

But an hour before she left, my beloved apologized to me and begged that I cut the chicken, I didn’t necessary have to de-bone the thing, but I at least remove the remaining breast meat into separate bags and place them in the freezer. Would I please do it now because I’ll forget about it if I don’t.

I didn’t. And I did. (more…)

ideas worth remembering are usually forgotten

Yes, yes. This is only another idea, and idea in itself about ideas. What’s the big idea? What is a big idea? What’s so big about a big idea that offers little or nothing in return.

I carry around a notebook and pen. Sometimes I remember to write down a thing or two that occurs to me. I’ll write down anything that comes to mind that seems like it isn’t the kind of thing that comes to mind, usually. I got the idea to start doing this when I would review things I had thought of that I didn’t think I had usually thought of, an occurrence or two, like: notions; quips; word play; inventions; fresh etymological possibilities; allusions; melodies; techniques; character enhancements; plot elements, and on and on. If I’m lucky I remember to write them down. I can write them down if I remember to bring the notebook and pen. Maybe I should just text myself. Yeah, that would work. And here, I’ve already written it down. But isn’t writing something down in longhand part of the process of fleshing out the idea?

Ten or fifteen years ago I was interested in film. I wrote films as invited, some would say commissioned. Had never thought of writing for the medium until an old friend, a producer with a couple of movies to his credit that presented some respectable if not downright famous-name actors. I embraced the challenge, learned all I could, cranked out a bunch of junk and perhaps some enjoyable nuggets here and there. Even made a bit of money.

Mostly importantly, I discovered story structure, plot control and all that kind of thing I had never worried about as a poet, a journalist, or as a stream-of-consciousness narrative writer. This changed my life. No it didn’t Okay, it did. Just not as much as it should have. I didn’t allow it. Didn’t even encourage it. As a rule I do not follow rules. This, and other paradoxes, has set my trusty compass off any true direction by more than a few degrees. The long and short of my journey is that I must go around the world quite a few times before I arrive at my ultimate goal. Sorry.
No shortage of ideas here. The more disparate are the elements of a problem, the more creative the solution. That’s all there is to it.

seamus never disappoints

seamus never disappoints

always in-person when the opportunity allows, you should, you really should try to meet with him whatever the occasion. You just won’t be disappointed. And so, here we are, there he is. Who, exactly who is holding court at this gathering? The jury is out on that for the moment. The conversation moved beyond the point of that mattering probably before it began, sort of a spiritual creation of ideas articulated in the singularly peculiar mix of minds and ways of thinking, the cool balance of yin and yang as settled as cornflakes during shipping, that renders all judgement neutral. No ideas spoken here are new.

James M Hendrix

James M Hendrix

None of them. We’ve merely brought them to our forum, the pub that is not really a pub, to speak and be spoken about, agreed with, acknowledged, ignored at worst. Things get said worthy of any scholarly record, any humorists notebook, clergy’s sermon sketches, pornographer’s napkin. But Seamus, forget what he said about writing up a nice account for the company newsletter. It’ll never happen. (more…)

Searching for a Sacred Clone