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Sands Of Time [May. 30th, 2005|11:26 pm]
Literate Freaks
[mood |lonelylonely]

While staring into the magnifier mirror holding the silver tweezers close to my overgrown brow, I noticed times etchings entangled like delicate threads around my eyes. Marking the years, much like rings on a tree that have grown deeper over the centuries have proudly begun to display their history; mine too have begun to tell their tale.

I sunk onto the bamboo mat on the cold bathroom floor and looked deeper into the magnifier. I couldn’t help but notice that parts of my skin resembled sepia stained disks soaking into the grain of an oak table that were recently abandoned by a porcelain tea cup at this close proximity, while other parts draped and hung low like soaked white linens drying on a clothesline in the summer air.

I could see the picture of my youth fading and visible signs of the elderly lady I am becoming gradually emerging. My visage has slowly become framed in silver strands and lighted with mileage. Beauty eclipses and becomes veiled with maturity. I ponder if I will obtain a life quick enough before the last grain of sand falls through.


Don't forget to join community ookman. Don't keep the monkey waiting.
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Sammerwocky [May. 31st, 2005|12:02 am]
Literate Freaks

In which caragana_leaves's huge lazy cat, Sam, steadfastly refuses to gyre in the wabe. Reposted by permission, and with no apologies to Lewis Carroll.

'Twas summer and the fluffy Sam
Did hide and cower like a mouse
The weather, gentle as a lamb
But Sam stayed in the house.
Read more...Collapse )
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(no subject) [Apr. 23rd, 2005|10:06 pm]
Literate Freaks

[mood |cynicalcynical]

And today's cringe-worthy misspelling brought to you by Forbes Magazine.

Honest to christ. You would think Forbes could afford to hire people who can spell.
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motherevol's farewell [Feb. 12th, 2005|03:00 am]
Literate Freaks

Whoa boy. I'm. So. Tired. Yet this new morning ritual of bottomless cups of java combined with cracking the husk off of pumpkin seeds with my back teeth has started to help me with not craving a morning smoke (hasn't helped me from not craving sex, but hey, I'm apparently on a 12 step program over here since the big LCU (life change unit) happened). I bet if I replaced my morning coffee with a beer I'd rapidly begin to change my position on this issue. I guess I shouldn't talk about cravings and position in the same paragraph if I'm not a Kamasutra instructor. It gives me no cred whatsoever.

Before you know it I will become an Earth Fart; rubbing the genitals of my enriched grain grown fields so I can start to harvest and then distill my own hooch and potato vodka. Afterward, I can soak in a vat of bathtub gin and absolve myself from sin/debauchery and a hard days work. Aw, it's so pleasant, isn't it? Yes, all of this and more just because I have become a pumpkin seed eater instead of a chain-smoking' whiskey swillin' rock-n-roll dollar ballerina. I'm eternally doomed. Before you know it, I'll start to like that icky stuff called yogurt. *blark*

I don't want to clean up that much or I'll die. This body is held together by a decades worth of nicotine and pickled by brown/clear liquids. I just wouldn't be, well, ME if I didn't have some small vice to cling onto and relish in.

The moment I start to find Southwestern art pretty is when I know I've crossed over into another dimension. That's when I grab the shovel and start digging. You sharpen the blade that I'll accidentally fall on. I'll make sure you're not printed or tagged afterward.

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(no subject) [Feb. 10th, 2005|12:19 am]
Literate Freaks

[mood |contemplativecontemplative]

This is something that was written by a guy who used to be with Greenpeace, who has given his blanket permission for it to be reprinted. I first ran across it about seven years ago, and it was the first time I'd ever seen anyone put into words what it's like for me to BE me. I know scarybaldguy has seen it before in my LJ but I thought I'd bore you all here with it.

Behind a cut so I don't make your head explode like the Scanners guyCollapse )
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Hie thee to B&N! [Feb. 3rd, 2005|02:40 am]
Literate Freaks

[mood |enthralled]

Charles Stross is the new god of SF.

He's also a damn funny peever, but never mind that. Singularity Sky and its sequel, Iron Sunrise, are breathtaking. I have a pretty fair grounding in physics, but at some points in these novels, all I could do was stare slackjawed and mentally say "Duuuhhh... uh?"

Aside from the Science part of SF, Stross' grasp of future politics is frighteningly plausible. Too many SF writers focus on the techy bits, and forget about the human factor. Heinlein was one notable exception, deftly combining the hard with the squishy. Silverberg was another. Charlie is their heir apparent.

Go. Buy. Read.
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quickie haiku [Feb. 2nd, 2005|10:44 pm]
Literate Freaks

Silence - the air is
heavy anticipating
the next set of waves.
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Book review: Pedestrian Wolves [Jan. 26th, 2005|12:25 am]
Literate Freaks

[mood |impressedimpressed]

Title: Pedestrian Wolves
Author: James L. Grant (flemco)
ISBN: 1894815149

Synopsis: Hedonist goes to New Orleans and discovers what Hedonism is really about.

In other hands, Pedestrian Wolves could be summed up as "I went to NOLA and got drunk and laid." Under Grant's guidance, this novel becomes far more than the sum of its parts.

The protagonist, David Livingstone, is a self-styled Predator (yes, capitalised). He thinks he's seen and done pretty much everything in his twenty-some years. When he has a chance to visit New Orleans one Hallowe'en weekend, he leaps at the chance. If this was as far as it goes, it would be your average semi-autobiographical masturbation fantasy, but true to form, Grant takes the genre and turns it upside-down, then slams it headfirst into NOLA's shattered concrete.

Livingstone forges a mental/emotional connection with the city, which gives him advice and far more. It speaks to him as an ancient goddess, demanding its due in the form of Bacchanalian worship. Livingstone does his damnedest to live up to the city's expectations (or at least, his interpretation thereof), nearly killing himself in the process.

Technically, the writing is damned good. Grant has a rare gift for description, observation, and character development. There are a couple of minor errors; for example, at one point, Livingstone refers to his roommate, Marcus, as David, but nothing extremely jarring. His descriptions of the NOLA scene are sharp and accurate.

Usually, when I finish reading a new book, I close the cover and move on to another. In this case, I closed the cover and sat for a while, pondering what I'd just read. This book stays with the reader. It's affecting and disturbing, but in a good way. aeire, Creator Lady of Queen of Wands, describes it as "...a good car wreck in which no one gets hurt and there's free drugs and ice cream for everyone afterward." That's about the most perfect summation I can imagine.

Rating: 5 out of 5. For a first novel, Pedestrian Wolves is a remarkable achievement.

Available from Prime Books and Amazon.
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(no subject) [Jan. 26th, 2005|12:41 am]
Literate Freaks

my heart

some time ago, we exchanged hearts.
you gave me yours so carefully.
it was damaged and fragile
so i handled it with care.
i took it and placed it in a special case
where i could see it and keep it safe.

i gave you my heart so joyfully,
glad that you wanted it as much as i wanted yours.
mine was damaged and tattered,
but i handed it to you.
and as i gave it to you,
you said "well, it isn't in the right shape.
could you possibly change it?"
i looked and said "okay, no problem."
so i took it back and changed it.
i handed it back and you said
"well gee, but i don't like this part.
could you fix it?"
i took it back and said "sure, i can do that,
i'd do anything for you."
i worked on it awhile and came back to you,
sure that this time, i had it right.
you said "wow, this is great! but, um, what
about this piece? it's so messed up..."
i took it back again
wondering if i'd ever get it right.
when will it be right?

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denimdoll reminded me of this. [Jan. 19th, 2005|01:05 am]
Literate Freaks

Blatantly political. First posted to The Firing Line, December 1999.

Bedtime StoryCollapse )
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