Rip

I remember, on television once, I saw a strongman tear a deck of cards in half with his bare hands. He said it was actually more difficult than tearing a phone book in half, because a phone book is wider and allows more leverage. I wonder what that man is doing now. I hope it's something epic, like wrangling dragons on Mars, or wrestling Architeuthis on the ocean floor. If he is moldering sad in a rusted trailer, surrounded by decapitated jacks and queens, then there is not much point in writing novels, or anything. I hope he at least brings in a good salary, and that someone remembers he existed. Anyone.

Barack Obama / Joe Biden 2008

On November 4th, please help me vote some intelligence and rationality back into the White House. There is no such thing as a sure thing--if you support this movement, please don't sit home and assume everyone else will take care of it. Come out. Vote.

From the archives...

This dates back to about 2002, maybe 2003. And oldie but goodie (I think). Fans of Greek mythology may realize this came from reading Edith Hamilton's book over and over and over. What I like about myths is exploring the lesser-known characters, those that played pivotal roles or filled out a pantheon, yet have remained obscure because so few stories focused on them. Like this man here... his name is pronounced "SEE-icks" or just "SEEKS", depending where you look...to my knowledge, he is only involved in a single myth--and not even his own myth, really, but his wife Alcyone's (from whose name the Halcyon Days derive). The myth says that Ceyx married Alcyone, the daughter of the King of the Wind, and that they were completely, happily in love with each other. But something, which is never named, begins to trouble Ceyx, and he insists on leaving his wife to consult an oracle, even though Alcyone is terribly worried that something bad will befall him. Which, of course, it does. And so the question kept coming back to me: what could possibly have been so dire that he would risk losing such a perfect life? What drives anyone to forsake all of their common sense and good fortune for a dangerous pursuit? Why gamble it all away when your instinct tells you to stay put...?



Ceyx


Beside her in bed—
You held the daughter of the wind,
Even in sleep she bore you aloft
And when she lay awake
Your heart was cradled in the silk
Of a vernal breeze.
Everyone saw the devotion,
The storm-winds attended
As dawn’s light gave her away.
She weighed nothing upon you, and you
Were the unseen element
Holding up the air.
What could have troubled,
Ceyx, what were the various matters
Pinning your heart to earth so firm
That love could be eschewed
For an answer?
Perish it. Did you love the answer?
What better future could oracles speak
Than what lay beside you,
What salve administer to your wounded
Spirit that could not pour
From the lips of Alcyone?
Money, the trifle, no.
Politics, the worry-stone, no.
The fate of your art—
Though what art beyond her love—
No. None of these things.
Did the mouths of ages lie to your joy,
Did your hearts tremble in the frame of time?
Did you doubt?
Perhaps you sought her eyes’
Truth in the eyes of the oracle
Or, perish it, loved the seer?
Did you love the answer?
We will never know,
But in the wake of your choosing
The sea lies still, fourteen days.
And while some call it a mercy,
I know it means the placation of one
Whose questions owned his day.

Autumn is a verb...

...and I tell you, the sky is falling.