Showing posts with label Julie Carr. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Julie Carr. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

A Moment of Intrusion





Another place lamely explains this post better than this post lamely explains itself. Hiatus bluff of a different sort than the normal hiatus bluff - this is not a bleggalgaze - but probably just as empty.








56 (from 100 NOTES ON VIOLENCE)

Julie Carr

I am a sick man. I am a spiteful man. I am an unattractive man. I believe my liver is diseased.
          (Dostoevsky)
Actually, he, Alexander, was innocent. Wasn't he? (Acker)
We know he was made, like all of us, from a moment of sexual intention.
I want a horse, but I am a horse.
Or intrusion. A moment of intrusion.
I am a sick man. A spiteful man.
"Where have you been, sister?" "Killing swine." (Macbeth)

A man and his family are driving to a vacation spot. Once a write, now an insurance broker with two kids in the back, wife beside him, map open on her lap. It's hot. They stop at a gas station so the kids can pee, the wife can buy some gum. Gas up. In the gas station bathroom the man catches another man's face in the mirror. For a moment his heart pounds. Something like desire. But this passes. The man is someone he knew in college. Not possible! It is! And the grin, almost embrace. How are you? What are you doing? Etc. The man walks his friend to the car, introduces him to his wife and kids. The kids take little notice. The wife smiles, but seems impatient. It is decided the man will follow along in his car, will join the family for dinner when they arrive at their destination. During the three-hour's drive, the first man tells his wife all about this friend: antics, parties. Why, she thinks, have I never heard of this man before? As evening falls, they arrive at the hotel - old and worn-down, concrete and carpet - not far from the North Carolina coastline. Dump their bags in the room, kids jump beds, they head down to the restaurant where the friend is waiting for them. He smiles and rises when they ---



Monday, December 24, 2012

other kinds of balm




  • I've posted Gubaidulina often hear though never her Piano Concerto, found this morning on the amazing Atonality.net, a simply astonishing resource. It also encourages reading the web while listening to it since I'm already on the web listening to it, discourages the reading of novels since I can't read fiction while music is playing. So have links.
  • >>Deleted bleggalgazing<< Two Giftmas presents for you today!
  • Six rules for criticizing Obama over Social Security.
  • Not fiscal cliff, descent into lawlessness.
  • Taxation with representation.
  • I have no idea what a Piers Morgan is, but he pissed off Liberals by saying something so Liberals sign petition to have him deported. 
  • UPDATE! While I'm still not sure what a Piers Morgan is, multiple people tell me that I have it ass-backwards - that it's conservative gun-supporters who want to deport him. My sincerest apologies, I'll double-check my sources from now on when reading something about someone I know nothing about
  • No, I wasn't advocating Loomis be fired, I advocated acknowledging what a hypocritical assclown he is.
  • I've offered a blogfriend looking for a rebrand free rights to this tag: Straddling the International Date Line Like a Perpetual February 29th. I like it, anyway.
  • The same fucking card every year
  • Oh look, Fuckface Hiatt gave column inches to Max Boot:



 





85. A FINAL SHOPPING LIST

Julie Carr

hands.
melted ice.
sun.
shine.
wire.
wire.
that which can be.
that which cannot.
a strategy.
the end of the day.
the heat at my neck.
sugar high.
the inside of his mouth.
the mother skirt.
hot sidewalk by the DMV.
the buzz in my head.
the fear running up the side of it.
partitions.
balm.
other kinds of balms.
whatever the children want.



Saturday, December 22, 2012

A Scholar Mentions the War, the Problems of Pleasure, and Sips His Wine. This, a Condescending Sentence to Write



    
  • Rick Nielsen is sixty-six today. I love a third of Cheap Trick songs, meh another third, loathe the remaining third, they were on the daily soundtrack three decades ago, shoot me. That's today's monologue. I was going to post what I wrote about lunch yesterday with a friend and former poli/sci professor who specializes in American political culture, but (a) I need to think about it more (b) it's the weekend before Giftmas, I've things to do (c) it's the weekend before Giftmas, people have things to do and by and large aren't here (d) see this post's title and (e) the discussion turned to argument over less-shittism, neither changed the other's mind, fuck rehashing that, at least today.
  • Enacting Democracy.
  • Crony capitalism's power couple.
  • The coming drone attack on America.
  • Beware of criminal gangs.
  • Hey Joe, where you going with that gun in your hand?















   
45

Julie Carr

A novelist calls me brave for writing about violence. This seems a condescending thing to say. A scholar mentions the war, the problem of pleasure, and sips his wine. This, a condescending sentence to write. The tulips bow their heads. Ruskin: "All violent feelings have the same effect. They produce in us a falseness in all our impressions of external things, which I would generally characterize as the 'pathetic fallacy.'"


My baby wakes up and I am saved by the winds of chance, says the soldier on returning to his two-story home in Pensacola.