(A) I feel asleep listening to and woke up with Bardo Pond in my head and (B) call that today's theme song and (C) I wanted that bingo thing off the top of the blog and (D) I spent part of yesterday's snow day watching Star Trek Next Generation, I was reminded that for every brilliant episode (Darmok) there are two ridiculously stupid ones (for instance: Picard, Ro, Whoopy, O'Brien's wife turned into children - though there is a scene in the episode which pays homage to the original Star Trek when Kirk teaches mobster henchmen how to play Fizzbin, or the one where Worf and child play spaghetti western) and five boringly mediocre episodes, the stand-alones, not in a story arc, the Geordi episode, the Ryker episode, the Data episode, the Troi episode, the Crusher episode and (E) when I did read yesterday if wasn't online so no links today and (F) fuck it and fuck this and (G) the uncanny phenomenon of a Jane Kenyon poem complimenting (H) Bardo Pond:
THE POND AT DUSK
A fly wounds the water but the wound
soon heals. Swallows tilt and twitter
overhead, dropping now and then toward
the outward-radiating evidence of food.
The green haze on the trees changes
into leaves, and what looks like smoke
floating over the neighbor’s barn
is only apple blossoms.
But sometimes what looks like disaster
is disaster: the day comes at last,
and the men struggle with the casket
just clearing the pews.