A Few Things I Wrote

Go to Ohio Authority to read my review of drinks at Light Bistro.

Or go to Turning River to read about my brief love affair with a rubber coyote.

These are Important Things. You Need to Choose Wisely. Updated.

B: You have all gotten away from the important point here. Which is unicorns.

M.: Do you know about Team Unicorn & Team Zombie? I'm on the former.

B: I don't know about that, but I know zombies are no match for unicorns, like, at all.

L: Zombies en masse can probably take down anything up to and including a brontosaur (Apatosaur for the perfectionists out there). That being said ol'uni can just teleport out of there.

K: The unicorn could also just cure them all with a touch of its horn! It's the unicorn.

L: Well. Actually they would be destroyed as They are undead. But again: see my point about zombies en masse. Unicorns can only touch so many targets so fast.

B: Unicorns are half laser.

K: Zombies are far, far overrated. Think of how fast a Unicorn is? I don't think a zombie apocalypse could really offer up much of a fight against even a horse, let alone the Unicorn.


-------Update------

NC: The problem is, as Stephen King points out, that zombies really represent the anxieties over cannibalism we previously associated with vampires, before vampires before a metaphor for STDs and rape. If zombies go after a unicorn, they loose all meta-textual significance. And without that, the plot no longer demands they win! They're just a bunch of smelly yahoos

KT: Zombies are also the metaphor for the existential other, the urban condition of being confronted by the nameless faceless callously hostile people of the world. What if they were all really against you, or anyway, more actively against you? The Unicorn is the symbol of the forest as sublime, of solitude as peaceful - it's the opposite of the urban horror of the zombie.

B: Well then I think it makes perfect sense that the two would be mortal enemies.

NC: The unicorn is also the other -- the unobtainable other. We chase the unicorn and ran from the zombie. So really, they'd conspire together to drive us mad.

B: This is a representation of urban sprawl attacking the rural community. The unicorn, with it's health and beauty, is besieged by the anonymous thousands who spread disease and sin. Sure, we chase the unicorn, like mom chases her farm, but eventually the unicorn is cornered and needs to fight back. How does the rural culture defend itself against the multitudes who don't stop coming?

I think I just said that the unicorns are Amish.

NC: So, really, at the end of his quest, Sir Gawain must stand between the unicorn and the zombies and contemplate which he resembles.

Why Pointing Out What Sign You Are to People Who Don't Care is Maybe Not a Good Idea

Bridget's Interpretation of the Astrological Signs
as aided by caffeine withdrawal, a twix bar for breakfast,
and general lack of respect for the whole damn thing. I don't believe this shit.
(due to certain conversations, I feel compelled to make this clear. I am making all this up)

Capricorn - The Goat

Capricorns are driven people. Driven to be intellectual snobs. Driven to be exclusive. Driven to be in control of their situation, even if that means staying in their house every day playing computer games because its the only thing they are good at, and if they leave the house they might have to experience this thing called an emotion, which frankly they don't see the point of. They love to talk to you if you're smart, but only as long as you don't admit to knowing more than them. If you don't meet their standards, then they will probably still sleep with you, but will not call you in the morning and probably won't enjoy it anyway. They like trench coats, IT jobs, and symmetrical pictures of nature. If you meet a capricorn with excellent social skills, it probably means they make a lot more money than you.

Aquarius - The Water Bearer

Aquarius likes to be thought of as unique. You know what's not unique? Telling everyone how unique you are. If you tell me that you are "crazy and weird", then you're probably neither of those things. Unless while you tell me this, you are also juggling stray cats and wearing a caftan you knitted to symbolize world drought. In other words, Aquarius tries too hard. They are most likely to try and change the world, and most likely to drive everyone crazy by preaching about veganism and alien encounters. They infest non-profits and college activism groups like pesky squirrels. I suspect most of them are bi-polar, since a disproportionate amount of them claim angels talk to them. Also, what the fuck is a water bearer? Cause to me that reads slave.

Pisces - The Fish

Pisces are sluts. Seriously, any Pisces will sleep with you. If you're into anal, go out with a Pisces. They will totally fall in love with you though. Sweet, slutty Pisces.

Aries - The Ram

Aries are totally adventurous, and will do most anything. Whether or not its dangerous. Need someone to walk into a den of badgers? Call an Aries. Need someone to hang from an airplane over the Andes and lure condors with chum? Call an Aries. Some people think this stupid, careless, reckless. After all, who does dumb shit like scuba diving under the Artic shelf? Whatever, you don't even know what living is. Aries write a lot of survival guides, and frankly, if there is an apocalypse, you should get one on your side. Aries are physically incapable of becoming zombies. In fact, we should be farming them for anti-zombie stem cells.

Taurus - The Bull

Once upon a time, you used to date this guy who seemed totally calm and collected, had a good job, a house, was unflinchingly loyal and paid your car bills and stuff. Then he went on your facebook, saw how many guy friends you had, and suddenly he was suspicious of everything you were doing. Who was that on the phone? Why can't you come over tonight? When you asked him what the hell was up, he wouldn't tell you, just made sad puppy dog eyes at you. Eventually he got really defensive at everything, started snapping anytime you disagreed about something, and started drinking a lot. He was a Taurus. You dumped him for a Pisces.

Gemini- The Twins

No matter how awesome that collage you made for their birthday is, a Gemini will still think they are more creative than you. Don't worry about trying to make plans with them either, because Geminis are notorious for not calling you for months, then all of a sudden totally having to see you on this specific day at this specific time, and if you don't do it then, you may never see or hear from them again. Not because they don't like you. They are just too busy being awesome. Geminis are great for doing drugs with, as long as you catch them on the upside of their monthly mood cycle. Otherwise it's kind of depressing. And they sort of become addicts. Which is more depressing.

Cancer - The Crab

Do you like watching a woman cry? Do you like watching her cry because you did something conceptually hurtful, even though no solid action took place? Do you have a pressing need to take care of someone, manage their budget, comfort them when they get irrationally insecure, and put up with their entertainment demands even though you're footing the bill because she is too busy writing her novel to go to work? Does her having big tits and giving good blowjobs, plus being really fun to drink with, make up for all of that? Then call me.


Leo - The Lion

Leos get hurt just as easily as Cancers, only they're too proud to actually say anything about it. It's sweet, until they get super passive aggressive. They try to be steady, not cause a fuss, but if you step on them they get totally irrationally angry. Leos hold a grudge like nobody's business. Well, I mean, technically it should be their business. If only there was a way to profit off hating people, places, and things. I wonder what the quantity of Leos on staff at Fox News is? As long as you stay on their good side, then they're great friends. But good luck with that. It's a minefield. Start with never ever telling them what to do. Send them to Africa to travel down the Congo and find a crazy man.

Virgo - The Virgin

When I asked my friends to contribute lists of their perfect mates, the first 2 who responded were Virgos, because they already had lists. Their houses are always clean. Their bank accounts are always in order. They are disgustingly perfect and well balanced. Virgos should probably run the world, but if you tell them I said that I'll deny it. They are good friends to have, but they are always asking you to go out which can be frustrating, since their budgets are like a well oiled machine and yours is closer to an 85 Chevy that needs a transmission flush. If a Virgo falls in love with you, you should probably shut the fuck up and consider yourself lucky. If your Virgo is a girl, she's probably vegan. If it's a guy, he belongs to a gym. Seriously, they will make you doubt your self-worth.

Libra - The Scales

Libras are totally delusional. They are all born thinking that they are destined to live some special grand life, and when that doesn't happen, they start irrationally grabbing onto anything that can cover up their mediocrity and give them the appearance of individuality. This makes them lots of fun, because they really really want to seem fun. It also makes them the worst flirts ever, because they want to look popular and in demand and adored. If you want to love a Libra, be prepared to deny reality often, and agree with them about how awful everyone else is except them. Also be prepared to be dumped when the next new thing comes along that's shinier than you. Libras are like ravens, constantly swooping off path for bits of tinfoil to help them pretend their nest is silver.

Scorpio - The Scorpion

Scorpios are assholes. But if you like someone dominating every aspect of your life, and dictating what you think and who your friends are and what kind of politics you have, then hey. They're good in the sack. They're sort of like the military version of Pisces. A Scorpio would totally murder a Pisces, and get away with it. If you want to murder someone and get away with it, call a Scorpio. If you need a short man to lead your army across Europe, call a Scorpio.

Sagittarius - The Archer

The worst thing you can do to a Sag is tell them they have to do something because they are "supposed to". However, if you give them a reason to "want to" then they are on it. They are the nice versions of Capricorns. But if you dropped a Sag and Cap somewhere deep in the woods, and told them to kill each other, my money's on the Cap because they usually own guns.

Self Help

Someone told me recently I should read a self help book. Anything that labels itself a self-help book, to my mind, is a scab on the soul of mankind, and I'm allergic to them. The lot of them might as well be called "Stephen King had a baby with Dr. Phil, and they locked her in the basement and raised her feral with no human contact or knowledge of utensils, but as long as she knows she's good enough, it'll be okay." Or whatever a shorter version of that might be. Here then is a passage from my personal self-help book.



"The best thing for being sad," replied Merlyn, beginning to blow and puff, "is to learn something. That is the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder in your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world around you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then - to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing that the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the thing for you. Look at what a lot of things there are to learn - pure science, the only purity there is. You can learn astronomy in a lifetime, natural history in three, literature in six. And then, after you have exhausted a milliard lifetimes in biology and medicine and theocriticism and geography and history and economics - why you can start to make a cartwheel out of the appropriate wood, or spend fifty years learning to begin to learn to beat your adversary at fencing. After that, you can start again on mathematics, until it is time to learn to plough."

T.H.White, The Once and Future King.

Guest Post: The All Dog Army

Hey guys. My friends took me to see the orchestra last night as a present. There was a DVD taping of some sort, we sat behind the giant boom camera that kept floating back and forth and around, and about halfway through the performance, the camera became an alien face, entranced by the sounds, backing off when the noise swelled, being drawn closer when it quieted. Anyway, one of my friends raked me for not updating. And then Jeremiah volunteered to help me out. He's a heck of guy, coming through in pinches and stuff. Any one else like to do a guest post? To keep this skeleton going while I recover, let me know. Oh, and I'm supposed to say Jere is the greatest man, since he's tired of being the only one saying it. It's true though. You should buy him a drink, he's the best for talking.

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Hi there! So B is down with a rough instance of the Feelings and so I offered to help her out just a little bit by talking at you here. It's no trouble! Why, aside from being covered in spiders I barely have anything to do today. Seriously covered in spiders. Also, I guess I should mention that later I'll catch the red line down to 79^th and Quincy to do some tutoring at the Fairfax rec. B says this is handsome of me, but my answer is – there's not a lot handsome about trudging a mile through broken glass. Kinda like there's nothing too appealing about a fellow covered in spiders. What can I do my patio is silly with them, little yellow jumpy ones with scablike brown markings, I bet they're hideously poisonous, I bet they have some kind of appalling courtship regimen that involves cannibalism, cannibalism and sex, together – that's the spiders' way, creepy little things. Anyway! So tutoring is a thing, it's fun, but you never can tell about how useful it is to people. Math. Not my subject, but elementary school math is elementary, and teaching is teaching so it's kind of a wash. Kids pick it up or don't – with Math it's all about planting seeds see – turns out these higher order abstractions -language is less than number is less than numeric operations -only really gel in your gentle learner's mind after a couple of years of lying half-used and dormant. That's fun to think about – you're a sleeper, a beautiful Russian girl, trained to do algebra and one day, one day you'll even be able to do it – True Fact – the Kremlin will one day bother you about the quadratic formula, and when it does? Well, no amount of Facebook friends will shield you, you will go back to the motherland and have to gulag it up on some ice-clad island north of maxima thule, so far north that every view is south and no amount of goodwilled chinese geomancers can help you out with your (another one of these jumpy bastards, what am I covered in ants? Again?) can help you out with your Feng Shiue oh Feng Shuei! Remember when you interested people?

So what I meant to get to was this – the Train. You can't ride the red line but you don't hear gossip that it's getting shut down. People are always saying Windermere is going to close. Lake of Winds – that's kind of what it means isn't it? Sea of winds? Some franco-angleish britonic lingo. It's not that windy there. Anyway that's as far as the old rapid goes, past all the trainyards and there's always at least one guy, you know him – ridden by the crack loa? You gotta know this guy – mumbles like a has-been Russian spy, too long in the frozen north? Man that guy is kind of guy, and you know when you see him coming – you know he didn't bring his own cigarettes, you know he's the president of the Nation of Moochers. True Fact – this is the Nation of Moochers. Maybe I'll buy a pack of like, GPCs for handouts? Maybe that'd be handsome of me? Who knows anything eh? Like, can you even still get GPCs? Anyway – that guy, he's got one of the crack talismans – famous in the world I think, he's got that stick and it's covered in dog toys, stapled/nailed – it's some kind of a thing, who knows what it is? Fascinating is what! The dog-truncheon, it's pretty easy to imagine that half-dead from exposure and animated by the cocaine necromancy this guy's learned the deep language of dogs, I mean! Just get a whiff! Isn't that how dogs talk? Scents and odors? That's how my dog talks to me, gross bastard. So this guy, he's the pack leader? Zombie-Dog-Apocalypse and he's the elder statesman of the new ZDOrder? That'd be alright – I mean, you just gotta get on his good side, have a cigarette to spare for him, maybe some spare change so he can catch the red line with you – ogle the case girls down on cedar, ride it to tower city for... well who knows what? Probably it'd be fatal to follow that guy, probably you'd end up knowing too much about the All Dog Army and then?

They identify your corpse by the dental records, found in a Detroit ave pothole, half-buried under broken glass. A half finished note scrawled in your own blood. Cause of death – Lycanthropy. True Fact man.

Anyway – should you manage to avoid grisly death you do some kindness at young Ms. B – she's a good sort and deserves a lot of presents, like in the shape of heart-shaped money and Dunkin donuts gift cards. Promise!

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I don't know about the money, but coffee is always accepted.
Jere writes at Kingtycoon, which is totally a protected Livejournal so you can't just read it, but if you're into that Livejournal thing still, he's one to read.

Apologizing for Everything is a Habit I Refuse to Pick Up

I am sorry though about the lack of posting. It's been one of those months where all of a sudden, even though only one thing has changed, you find yourself struggling to handle your daily routine. As in, it's an event to take a shower. It's too much to take out the trash. My food has all been hand held, when I eat. I turn off my phone for most of the time, and I can't write anything that doesn't make me sound weak, pathetic, or cruel. So I've been huddled in the air conditioning, reading The Once and Future King to myself, because it's the most unromantic romantic book I could find. I just want to be a sick dog, and find a dark hidden porch to crawl under until I die.

Even if I could write something interesting, the only thing I might have to discuss are the various plot lines of Disney Channel "princess" movies, the ones that aren't really about princesses, but instead about rich girls at boarding school, or pretty girls at summer camp, music students trying to make it big, ect. And that weird show ABC Family show, Make It or Break It, about some gymnast girls training for the Olympics. In which DJ from Full House plays a coach who is anti-sex before marriage, and goes around shaming everyone else about it. It has roughly the same production value as the princess movies, but a really really creepy opening and closing credits. All gray and black, like all the gymnasts are going to die in a horrible bus accident at the end of the show, and the producers know it, but you won't get even a clue until it actually happens. All safe sex and friendship and evil pouty blonde girls till then darlings.

BUY MY STUFF

Okay everyone, I finally made myself an Etsy shop, to sell these silly photos. Please buy them. I've got 26 of them up, but if you want one you don't see on there, please let me know. Also, please cross promote this for me, and if you do, I promise to buy you a unicorn. At least, once I sell enough photos.

Today was somewhat okay

Okay, so first good news of the last two weeks. Today Colleen and I went to a beach that my friend Midwestgrrl had recommended. She called it the abandoned beach. We drove all the way to the East Side, a lakefront I barely know at all, and after a bit of wandering around various marinas we found it. With old guys in camping chairs parked there in front of their boats, at the most public school municipal brick version of a marina that you ever saw. The beach itself was lovely. No guard. Big rock islands. Deep clean sand and only three people there when we first arrived. More people showed up a little later, but it never looked anything but empty. A group of pretty Russian girls splashed around, with two dark haired boys that splashed and romped and were generally the picture of Black Sea vacation days. It was lovely. They screamed in Russian, and took photos of each other everywhere. They all climbed up on the rocks and posed against the sunset, arms akimbo, waving and laughing.

We stayed in the water for three hours. Then headed to Tremont for ice cream. It was really one of those nights where you sit outside Scoops with your butter pecan, watching your vegan friend get super enthusiastic like every vegan who goes there gets. Super excited and gleeful, no matter how many times they've been there. Just a heads up. If you have a vegan significant other, you should be taking them there at least once a week in the summer. If you're not, shame on you. Anyway, it was one of those nights where you really love Tremont again. Those nights come fewer and fewer as I get older, and the days of Peter and Edison's get farther away, or Krista at Lava, or Jawndomay. Listen guys, I love you, but I always felt silly having to say Jawndomay. I got used to it though, because the reverence grew on me. That was a special apartment, the ones you always remember at least two of from your twenties.

Then some coffee and now here. We resolved to go to the beach every Friday from now till the end of summer. Anyone else who wants to join us is welcome. We're gonna pack lunches to eat there, and books to read, and we'll stay all day. This is going to be our thing for a little while. It seems like the best decision I've made all summer. Thank god. I was worried there I might never make a good one again.

A song.

Here is the church.

Here is the steeple.

Open the door.

And here come the people.

As the ancient monsters rise up out of the deep waters and forgotten volcanic craters, shake the dust and slime off their skins, bask in a sun that hasn't touched them for thousands of years, I am compelled to add my bones and bread to the soil that nurtures them. I'd like my DNA to mix with theirs, my nutrients to live in their bones and make them stronger. I'm only doing my part to help the monsters win. I encourage you all to do the same.