Pic: South Carolina Dunes

Most recent recent news: I'll be hopefully leaving the recently aquired warehouse job picking product for commercial builders, and work for the school district as on call custodial staff. See what an art degree'll getcha! And, maybe a social worker, taking challenged young adults on trips.

Most recent news: I resigned after 4 weeks of trying to learn a new skill at JLG. After 6 weeks off recovering for the surgery mentioned below, I could not get up to speed in the heat and stress. The boss was as sympathetic as Dr. Mengele.

Recent News Bit: I just got my appendix removed. I had this real bad gut ache that woke me up in the middle of the wee hours of Wednesday the 23rd, it only subsided that evening, and it remained sore on the right side even this next morning. Going to the doctor's on Thursday because I would need a note, and I

was curious whether it was appendicitis, had him send me for a Cat Scan, and meow, I was sent to the ER next to get surgery. Out it came just before Friday (just ready to pop it's poisonous pus inside me), and I spent the night and morning, and now I'm released and home.

Review of Sling Blade

Hmmm. I studied this a good bit. Uh Huh. Mmmm. It be wrong if ye kill unless'n self defense. Uh Mmmm. My friend Frankie tole me that. Mmm Huh. I tole that mean fella Doyle not ta touch that boy. Mmmm.

I had me an extree lawnmower blade, sharpen 'm up real good, uh huh uh mmm.

Doyle tole me how ta call the police. Uh Huh. Nine....One....One. Huh Huh mmm.

Then I tole him I was gonna kill him. Uh Huh.

I killt him. Called the police. Uh Huh. Ugh mmmm.

Sugar Beets,
Walnut meats;
my poem bleats
like William Yeats.

I might not be on here as much as before, I've gone into some kind of valley. Hope to climb out........

Pterodactylus maximus giganticus

created by drownzsurf

(thing) by drownzsurf (now!) (print) (marked for destruction) Rep: -7 ( +3 / -10 ) Sat Apr 01 2006 at 0:52:40

C! info: 2 C!s given by: LeoDV, Harmony CC 7 ¶, 1 s, 108 w, 936 c (created publicly)

News Break

Excerpted from the Science Tabloid

Kupersburg, South Africa

Scientists here, who found the outstanding pterosaurus 100 million year-old Upper Jurassic fossil with viable bone cells, have brought in a team of cloning experts and have successfully given birth to a flying dinosaur: the Pterodactylus maximus giganticus.

However, in an embarrassing international incident, the giant airborne reptile-like creature with a wingspan of 120 feet was brought down by a Sidewinder missile from about 30 miles out to sea in the Indian Ocean by a Sri Lankan Air Force pilot flying in an A-4 Phantom.

For BrevityQuest 2006 and RumourQuest 2006

Be sure if you're a meat eater, to join carnivorze2

Message me also at dzs.

I have met: Templeton, brassmule, and Hibiki. Talked to Dann on phone (see note in Christians usergroup.)

izubachi sez: We like seeing ourselves in the mirror. Circuitry is just the newest reflective material.

(r) 2005.7.30@22:41 redbaker says And dilletants are underrated. The world is too full of specialists, if you ask me. Whatever happened to the Renaissance men?

(I responded that my first write-up about that was nuked.)

invalesco inveteratus

Catbox gleanings:

4 Science-fiction is at its best when its not science fiction. Like all good it transcends.
drownzsurf Yeah, I like those factual tales about anti-gravity cars, and colonies on Mars.

4 good night. He right about the mars colonies by the way.

Tell me of the nature of love

If you have nothing but questions,
then perhaps you don't know.

Let's talk Greek. Define our terms.

Philia and, or Agape? Exists not greater love
Than when a person puts his life on the line for
a stranger.

But, please don't just go looking for any grenade to jump on.

Our love is like water

Wet
wait.

Splash, squish -- thirst.
Melt, froze -- hurt.

Faucet, aqueduck.

Here's some interesting msg's:
(r) 2004.8.6@4:11 @ jessicapierce says Hey guess what! We got a weird
2004.8.6@4:11 @ Klaproth says I moved your writeup "5-HTP (thing)" You can now find it at "5-HTP"

Okay, here's my EKW settings, I call Cucumbers and Cayenne. I believe they are easy on the eye, (beware, 'cuz i'm a slightly color blind) and not too hard to read:

ekw_alinkcolor="#ffd0c0";
ekw_bgcolor="#e1f3e4";
ekw_headingfont="Tahoma,Verdana,Helvetica,Arial";
ekw_linkcolor="#103860";
ekw_logoaccenttext="#ffff90";
ekw_logobackground="#305880";
ekw_logoborder="#000000";
ekw_logofont="Tahoma,Verdana,Helvetica,Arial";
ekw_logofontsize="17pt";
ekw_logomaintext="#f0f0f0";
ekw_monofontsize="9pt";
ekw_oddrowcolor="#g5f0c1";
ekw_textcolor="#202020";
ekw_textfont="Arial, sans-serif";
ekw_textfontsize="12px";
ekw_vlinkcolor="#ehh670";

If you are over 40, you might want to join the GrayPanthers usergroup. (If I made it over 50, I'd just about be alone.) Talk of the old days (or daze -- or even doze) while warming ones' achey legs by the virtual fireplace. We insist we are not geezers. But, they are welcome, and will be honored.

If you are more politically to the right than most of the catbox denizens, you might like to join freedomforum.

Devotional

Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things -- Phillipians 4:8

Quotes

--it's no use trying to pretend that mostpeople and ourselves are alike. Mostpeople have less in common with ourselves than the squarerootofminusone. You and I are humans; mostpeople are snobs...

{sic} --e.e. cummings

The cock crew
The sky was blue:
The bells in heaven
Were striking eleven.
'Tis time for this poor soul
To go to heaven.

{sic} --James Joyce

2004.2.4@3:34 briglass says Your homenode reminds me of marble tile. Functional and geometrically precise, yet filled with chaotic swirls. ...or something...

I thought this was the nicest compliment I've had in a long while.

Nodation

(In no particular order)

Blues Artists

Elmore James
Blind Lemon Jefferson
Otis Rush
Buddy Guy
Paul Butterfield
Michael Bloomfield
Jonny Lang
Lonnie Johnson
Sippie Wallace
Tracey Nelson
Jimmy Johnson
T-Bone Walker
Roosevelt Sykes
Junior Parker
Ida Cox
Brownie McGhee
Lonnie Johnson
Luther Allison
Victoria Spivey
Jimmy McGriff

Rhythm and Blues

Al Kooper
Steve Cropper
Bill Doggett
Booker T. and the MG's

Jazz

Charlie Christian
J.C. Higginbotham
Lucky Millinder
Tommy Dorsey
Fletcher Henderson
Red Allen

Rock Pioneers

Sam Phillips
Link Wray

Contemporary Contributors

Dennis Hopper
Claude Levi-Strauss
Anwar Bose
B.F. Skinner
United Nations
Romare Bearden
John G. Kemeny
Barry Goldwater

Heroes of the Faith

W. Cowper
George Muller
Tertullian
Rachel Scott
Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Irenaus
Robert Raikes
Watchman Nee
Thomas Cromwell
Kenneth Latourette
Justin Martyr
Louis IX
Juan Luis Vives
Augustus Toplady
John Wesley
Charles Wesley

Music Groups

Steppenwolf
The Band
Paul Butterfield
Canned Heat

Literary Legends

Joseph Addison
Thomas Carlyle
Christopher Marlowe
John Lyly
John Milton
Thomas MaCaulay
Arthur Hugh Clough
Thomas Babington
Adelaide Crapsey

Classical Composers

Franz Schubert
Hector Berlioz
Edward MacDowell
Leonard Bernstein
Max Reger

Places

Chambersburg, Pennsylvania
Black Lake
Sunnyhaven
Boiling Springs
Phyrgia

Miscellanous Nodes

Enron
Palm Date
Handbook on German Military Forces
Bedbug
Skipjack
5-HTP
Tea Tree Oil
Funky Broadway
Crossover Music
Pope John XXII
Albert Pike
The Raft Ride
Ahmed Ibn Majid
Constitutional Convention of 1787
Walking Man 28
Christian Fundamentalism
United Nations
Stormy Monday
Sammy Baugh
Space Oddity

/me misses all that left E2

No more poetry^*,
No more jeer;
But like loneliness,
Do it here.

Go climb a tree,
Find some cheer;
Please come confess,
You're a lot like me.

^* How ironic that I keep trying to write poetry, the scariest venture of all. How safe it is to write on Zchachian Bullwhip Sellers.

Gospel Verse

A rough hewn tree
Offer'd death for me
only just believe
All guilt relieved.

Oh, here are some more of my deleted poems:

She thicks men's blood with cold

She thicks men's blood with cold,
From the back she looked so young:
But, from the front she was oh, old!

I needed a warm brandy n' a hurry,
Before I told her I was so sorry.
She gave me a look that chilled me blood,
I felt as if my pants were filled with mud.

I'll never forget that fateful night,
Where love at first hot, turn icy cold.
I'll never ever again believe in love at first site{sic}.

Note: I'm obviously not a winning member of the PoE2try Guildenstern.

Head Roads

Winding pleasant roads stop at my forehead.
The gravel begins.
The din of the gavel;
Swathes wind up
The pitch

The tar is deep within my marrow
The morrow
The sorrow
The deep sticky forbidden parts off the path of

narrow.


The arrow flies
Emotional continuity dies
The mudpies cries

You, too, to sling That thing.


And dare to sing!
And bare Virginia Dare
to bring
You cringe,
And singe
At the binge
You bring?



Copious coping like a coping
saw.
A Hack, attack, no place to turn

back,
A dos, a Dieu, a Female
antler not jabbing,
But, jibing;
No escape from the aid
the music's no band aide,
The Cayman's no alligator hide
Yourself from your own Hyde
(Doctor yourself in your own Heckle)

A fine peckle.
A wine kettle,
One has to meddle,
In their own mettle.
Thistles and thorns and lizard horns
Win only scorn.

Limerick Section:

The Glorious Goldbricker

by Trailer Trash

There once was a Glorious Goldbricker.
Who was an meticulous stickler
When asked why he tried?
He whimpered and cried!
A blank nodeshell would have been quicker.
.

There was an E2 denizen
Who had thought he'd mastered Zen.
When he went in a trance,
He forgot how to dance,
So he then just uttered, "When?"

And another

There was a noder: Debrah Whinger
Whose noding was worse than her singing.
When downvoted and nuked,
She just complained and puked,
And showed everyone her middle finger.

Now my deleted Daylog/poem:

Ten Four Oh One daylog: as if I had help from Nostradamus

The writing started to look like Polonius,
So pedantic, elliptic, full of balonious.

The speaker on the radio warned against pride,
I hope everyone has that nefarious place to hide.

We alive are spilling our entrails, barely survive,
The Hive passes us etherally by the Jive that thrive.

Now everyone wants to write, vent their spleen on Love,
But, that, now, too has been locked out from Above.

The Pantheon has been offended, I can't be defended,
Read this pauvre travaille quickly, as it's sickly ended.

Creative people must be stopped!
Geniuses' gamble: ever flopped?
Presidents' ramble feels your pain,
Suicidals tremble scared to stain.
Poetry's simple reared it's head,
Certainly 'membered when they're dead.

Assembly's gathered in the town.
Continuity mustered 'gainst the clown.
Perpetuity stumbled round his work,
Artistic mumbles found he'd shirk.
Journeyman, bumble, sound your cry,
Birthingly humble child that'll die.
Lovingly, sheltered in his home,
Shakily peltered after his roam.

My Brain (2001)
by
Thomas' Promises?

I'm Gonna Make it to the Top

Jump started Thomas whirled
his Thanksgiving handout
but, made a mess, cooked
in an efficiency apartment
against the Landlord's rules.

Yo! yelled he so manly
peering about noseily
perusing about the block
Sparkling Brighteness of Sol
hid like an illegal behind grey curtains.

Back to the TV he went
Popped open another brew
Alone, Borderline insane
whirling Like an aged Dervish.

Born In Baltimore: A BioPoem

It was a year after the Second Great War
I was destined to never become a big Star.

I moved around with Government dad,
Finally settled in Rockville, not too bad.

Mary Queen of Scots would be proud of her state,
Now called the People's Republic: the roads are great.

Went to her University, Art was my gain,
I should have studied harder, ruined my brain.

After two score and ten, finished the old P.O.,
Now writing on Everything2 is my M.O.

Ballad of Groucho Vista

I sing of dinners passed and gone,
Where I was served by my man Juan.
He drank my best Querve Gold,
He was not only Macho, but was bold.

I think I'll leave Vista Land,
And join a Mariachi band.
There's no future for me here,
Can't drink the water, only beer.

They didn't want me on the stage,
I would go from tears to rage,
But, I found out the real truth was,
They didn't hire someone my age.

This was another nuked nodeshell challenge, originated by Swap.

They are loving it today,
TomorroW has not shown its ficKle face.
YesterdaY...
Though not
cut in stOne,
Brain cells have already saId their goodbyEs.

SpoTted OwlS don't give a hooT,
And, they don't vOte.


But, todAy, they're in Love with Love itself.

Though you can't vote on that.
Ching don't mean a thing,
If it aiN't got that thing

sO, eVerybody sing,
"Those of us who are about to node",
probably are aBout to die.
As the ching of the masses
A- masses.

Voting Oracle:
Look into thy past. Where hast thou judged?

(As of July 15, 2005): Thou hast cast 56295 votes... 0.7104% of the judgements made of all time, across 12.6734% of all writeups.

kot13's quote: it is never too late to have a happy childhood

Keep in mind, these numbers could be wildly inaccurate.
Oracles aren't known for their precision.

Ode to JohnnyGoodyear (and Etoufee and Iceowl)

Man, I can get into poetry with just one beer.
But, with three, I can match JohnnyGoodyear.
He's fastest with the stuff,
Even when the going gets rough;
Don't let up with all those metaphors:
'Specially the ones that include whores.

I meant horehound, of course.
Not talking about Horse.
Not even Richard Harris.
Never been to friggin' Paris


Who freakin' cares.



(With a froggin' Frenchie accent a'goo.)

2005.07.01 @20:00 JohnnyGoodyear says Well, that's a poem that will require me pouring you three beers on the fine day when we may then meet :)

I felt it was worth it all, though others probably didn't think the same, when the promoter of his City of Souls quest liked my contribution, City of Souls II "Escape":

(r) 2004.5.13@19:20 Inflatable_Monk says I think it's the best thing you have ever written. I hope every noder reads it and learns something.

Messages from you'retheinspiration's other incarnation:

(r) 2005.09.01 at 01:58 tilltheendoftime says the ban me, i very good, i definitley type 130 wpm, even drunk.
(r) 2005.09.01 at 01:58 tilltheendoftime says this is my last gap, they ban me
(r) 2005.09.01 at 01:59 tilltheendoftime says i no type for fear of being banned, had whole bottle of sherry, it did this. i mad this account days ago. or hours ago
(r) 2005.09.01 at 02:00 tilltheendoftime says i do socialize, you banned me
(r) 2005.09.01 at 02:01 tilltheendoftime says i don't keep making usernames, this is the last one, this was made before. i don't want to abuse
(r) 2005.09.01 at 02:10 tilltheendoftime says no, all is true.

Unofficial bookmark: archanjo's node, dannye and his crappy observations about Othar Turner (since marked for destruction)