Expire: to expel, become void, die.

refrigerator:

old, sad, clotted milk past its

expiration date.

exhalation is

breathing out. it's warm moist air.

yet, it's expired.

its happened right here.

yes, this is the very spot 

where he expired.

Haiku: 5,7,5.

inspired by Athens

such a wonderful city

I sit at her heart:

burn the city down

it does not solve your problems

why create chaos?

rioters outside

under my window, they keep

me awake tonight.

Haiku, carefully: choose your words, do not rush them: beaut'fly, Haiku.

Athens: angry riots.

Slapping across newspapers,

They still will not help.

-----

Brown and honey sweet,

Melomakarona, is

one syllable short.

-----

Syncopation, by

Scott Joplin, ragtime

master. Fantastic.

-----

[and now I'm finished,

I hope you had fun with it.

good bye to all.]

Fond: Partial to, affectionate of, attached to.

Despite what everyone says, I am still left with the distinct impression that Mark Twain was rather fond of Tom Sawyer. No matter that his character is (un)reasonably atrocious by the end of "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn".

I look at the cover page of my copy of the novel only to find it entitled: "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (Tom Sawyer's Comrade)". When you have a book about one character, and then mention another (distinctly less important to the story) in the title... Well, they must matter. 

It could, perhaps, be argued to be another attempt at forcing them into the same frame so that the reader would be forced to contrast the two... 

I'll admit, I'm rather fond of Tom, despite how painful his actions are at the end of the book. 

Back to my essay? (And on to my article?) Perhaps.

Deadlines. [Constriction, Hurry, Procrastination.]

The price of private school food hasn't increased any in interest. But it did slide away from the exquisitely crafted tin foil trap of my mind. Now a week remains in which to complete all research and writing for the article. Shameful. 

A report on a system I never use is somewhat entertaining as a concept. (How long is it supposed to be anyway?) 

On the topic of food, with thanksgiving just barely trailing, turkey will be the source of sustenance for a good month or two. Long live sandwiches. 

The hardest part about writing any kind of story or comic or anything, is coming up with plot. I have plans for some very cool comics, and yet, I always lack the key driving part of any story: plot. Its rather terrible. Anyway, one collaborative work, two shelved, and a hopeful collection of as-of-yet unwritten short stories. Just my luck.

All the best.

In heaven...

...Everything is fine. In heaven, everything is fine. In heaven...

A determination to see Eraserhead... Where will that leave me? (I've know seen the radiator lady... I am very much intrigued.)

Romeo & Juliet has almost hit the stage... A prayer be said for all past, present, and future crew to step onto the stage... In light.
It is by no means my favorite Shakespeare. Yet, I wonder about the Queen Mab speech, it is so out of place...

Price: costy, levy, fee.

Fee is one letter away from Free. Oh, irony. (And yet... somehow not.)

In all honesty, studying the expense of food at various private schools in the area just isn't particularly interesting. If written properly, it could be a very popular article, seeing as the entirety of the student body is convinced they're being ripped off.
This maybe the the price paid for a more flexible system. Cheaper food comes with lunch being included in tuition, because there is no chance of money lost on food not being paid for.

Still little packages of cream cheese priced at 50¢ is still outrageous, and my only real bone to pick.

I wonder how to phrase it so as to give enough to the "righteous" indignation of the students that they will feel appeased that they are correct in their displeasure with the system, yet not offend the system in of itself and not get published at all.


But isn't that always how the administration functions?

Debate: parley, discourse, dissention, talks.

Current: the loss/gain of an hour's worth of work for about two minutes worth of music.

Rather pathetic techno/dance music is undoubtedly easiest to write, but not much skill appears to be required.

In my defense. I have also finished writing a chorale today.





Chorale in F | Music Upload

Gesticulate: signal, motion, wave, sign.

Last weekend was Interrupt (language-driven digital art). One of the artists, Eugenio Tisselli (http://www.motorhueso.net/) had this really cool piece, about trying to get through on a phone call, to get a question answered, and not being able to. It was probably the singular most effective depiction of that scenario I've ever seen.

Also, the famous Young Hae-Chang Heavy Industries (http://www.yhchang.com/) was there. They were really awesome. Probably my favorite piece.
People have asked me to define digital poetry, or as they call it here "language-driven digital art". I can't, because each of the pieces will be so radically different. The style is new enough that they still exploring, there are no set rules so no one's breaking them yet.

There is one digital artist you might have heard of, Aya Karpinska (http://technekai.com/), she did the fairly well known, top 25-downloaded iPhone/iPod Touch applet Shadows Never Sleep. She came back to visit us when she came to Interrupt, it was very nice to see her again.

Contagious Bulimious Apocalypse

He doesn't think he noticed them at first. They were perfectly innocent after all. He may have registered one, casually, in passing, but after all, they weren't particularly striking, unless you were looking for them, so none stands out in his memory as the first. He simply remembers there suddenly being MORE. A few would seem like a passing decorating fad, but when they were everywhere, clustered amongst the tacky lawn flamingos, and sitting menacingly in windows, he knew that this was truly something serious.
Normally, it would be foolish to think that something so apparently innocent to have some greater plan, some greater goal, some ominous purpose, but there was something so sinister
As he grew more and more agitated by their omnipresence he began searching for their purpose. What could they signify? Why were they here? What did it mean? It was a senseless quest. Slowly he withdrew further and further, attempting to discover it. It began to distract him from his meals and keep him from sleep. Yet all the whiles he seemed unawares of his own situation as their presence pressed in on him.
He began to go walking just to see if they had encroached further. Once, when he found one thrown carelessly upon his lawn he shrieked and returned to the confines of his house, not to leave it again until it had been accidentally removed by a neighbor.
Now, when he left to survey the streets he saw them peering out of every window, he could feel them pressing in on him from all sides. A panic seemed to burn through him.
about them. He felt that it laid chiefly in their conspicuous lack of pigment. Even albinos had pigment, their eyes being red, or pale blue, but here the eyes were white. It was unnatural. And then they were everywhere. There was not a place he could lay his eyes that they were not. His throat constricted. Perhaps this was the end, for that must be what they were, harebringers of the end. And they were here. And there. And there. And everywhere. He knew there was nothing he could do. He looked around at them staring at him from windows and lawns and porches and chairs and doorways. He slowly made to back away, and tripped over one. He overbalanced and then he felt a sickening crack as he met the pavement. Yet there one was, staring at him and it was white, and then it was dark.
-----
©TRG. Please don't steal. Criticism is greatly appreciated.

Woo Hoo

Music: Blur


F C G D A E B - order of sharps.

C G D A E B F(sharp) C(sharp) - half the circle of fifths.

hope that was enlightening. i have a quiz on it (well, i guess) today. have a good week :)

Testing 1, 2

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