idiologue

Point Me At The Sky

Hey Jean, this is Henry McLean,
And I've finished my beautiful flying machine.
And I'm ringing to say that I'm leaving,
And maybe you'd like to fly with me and hide with me, baby.
Isn't it strange how little we change,
Isn't it sad we're insane.
Playing the game that we know ends in tears,
The games we've been playing...
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It's fucking hot here, lazy dripping molasses hot. Thirty-nine with the humidity or so the weather people tell me. It's a steamy sticky heat that seems to hang like an unspoken word heavy with meaning, wrapping itself around me like wet velvet, holding me tight and close. It makes me light headed and dreamy, restless under the weight.

And there's an undercurrent lurking below the...
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Late, late, late, bah!

So, Prom was nice. Got to meet all kinds of interesting new people. Had the pleasure of witnessing perhaps the very worst band I have ever seen play live. Strongbone, they were called and I don't know where they came from, but many times that night did I wish they would return thence. But despite that and the drunken normals we...
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I drop from the sky sometimes like a broken meteor, plummeting to the ground in a twisted ball of flames and failure and as I lie there and moan a little and groan a little and laugh a little, I curse myself for an idiot. I know better, I know the rules of flight and the theories of aerodynamics, I know what goes up and...
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Hey! Hey! Keep Moving, don't stop. Don't stop, ever stop. If you do, you might start to think, you might start to see. You might just start to think about whatever it is that you are doing. What you are really doing. You might just start to see where you are going. Where you are really going. You might start to wonder about all the...
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Nothing is new. Except maybe the snow. And the sound of a gigantic toilet being flushed with this planet square in the middle of the bowl. Ah, but what a ride.



Love the chicken.

In a conversation the other day, we spoke of writing and the difficulties of fear and shame. We bemoaned our silence and our apprehension, loathe to expose ourselves, worrying over the thoughts of others, potential and otherwise. We admitted our weakness even as we understood the manner of its release, the solution ever present, yet rarely grasped. It occurred to me then how the writer...
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I read this article today in Issue #15 of Hermenaut magazine. One of my roomates only recently discovered the magazine when she came across a copy at a friend's father's house, borrowed it, and has since shared the find. It's is really a very great shame that they have not published any issues beyond #16. According to the website, Hermenaut has been described as "a...
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My flask is full, my joints are rolled, and the night is young. Let's hope it's a good one.

A very happy New Year to one and all.

I read this today:


FBI Issues Alert Against Almanac Carriers

December 29, 2003

By TED BRIDIS
Associated Press Writer


WASHINGTON (AP) -- The FBI is warning police nationwide to be alert for people carrying almanacs, cautioning that the popular reference books covering everything from abbreviations to weather trends could be used for terrorist planning.

In a bulletin sent Christmas Eve to about 18,000 police organizations,...
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I just finished watching Lost in Translation and wow, what a good movie. And I thought we were insane...


Then I just sit here censoring myself, sitting down to let the ideas flow and blocking them in the last moment. Blocking them with some half imagined criticisms, debating merit, before the words even hit the page, screen, whatever. I wonder if perhaps it has to...
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