finally
embarking on that project that's been rolling around in my
head for a while now. finally! seems like i never had the
time, don't know why. i mean, it's not like i've been tied
up doing something worthwhile, i.e. curing cancer or learning
to tango or catching up on my reading. i just don't know where
the time has gone, it's been in short supply lately. have
i called my ailing mom? haven't had the time. have i taken
out the trash? who's got time for that crap. have i mowed
the lawn, painted the house, washed the car? hell no! if time
was money, i'd be flat broke, i'd be some homeless guy sitting
at the offramp of some freeway, holding up a sign that says:
will write haiku for spare minutes. 'course, if i was a homeless
guy i'd have all the time in the world. one of life's little
ironies, i guess.
but
where was i. oh yeah, the project. i like to think of it as
performance art except without the performance. or the art.
sort of like what banksy did with the paris hilton cd but
not quite as, i dunno, snarky. more like stuffing a message
in a bottle and throwing it in the ocean, then waiting to
see what happens. i mean, writing haiku on slips of paper
and leaving them in books at the library and/or bookstores?
wtf is that? as a means of driving web traffic here it has
certain, uh, limitations. but then, that's not the point.
the point is, i dunno, arouse someone's curiousity? if even
for a second? what would you think if you bought a book and
piece of paper with haiku written on it fell out? if nothing
else, it would make a good bookmark.
anyway,
after giving it some thought, this is what i settled on:
Haruki
Murakami
tickles my innards
springtime in Dreamland
of
course, i'm leaving it in murakami books. i'm thinking murakami
readers might appreciate a stray random haiku by a stranger
way more than, say, the fucks who read michelle mulken. anyway,
the question i have is this: what haiku would other people
use and what books would they leave them in?
Santa
Anas howl
across the bone-dry landscape Dante's inferno
Posted
10.24.07|
*Actual
headline in yesterday's paper.
Back
to the Real World
Ever
wonder what's happened to certain blogsters, you know, the
ones who post something one day then seemingly vanish off
the face of the Earth, except you don't realize they're among
the disappeareds until a few weeks later when you notice that
their blog is as rusty and abandoned as the carcass of a stripped-down
car in the Mojave Desert? Did they die? Did they get abducted
by space aliens? Chances are they got caught up in the vagaries
of life in the Real World or, if they are like me, got bored
or tired of hearing themselves think or just plain ran out
of shit to say. It happens; the cybersphere has got to be
littered with countless dead blogs floating around like the
space debris orbiting Earth.
Thinking
on this reminds me of the time I sat at the induction center
in Los Angeles along with dozens of other similar and not
so similar guys, waiting to get shipped out to boot camp.
As we cooled our heels all fucking day in that stuffy, uncomfortable
place, one of the guys related that his grandfather had advised
him the night before not to make any friends. "They'll
just get killed or get shipped out," gramps had told
him. Ha ha ha. We all laughed at that. But then gramps was
kind of right -- we all shipped out eventually, going our
separate ways. Some of us maybe even got killed. Oh sure,
a few of us made feeble attempts to keep in touch, but being
young men with our futures supposedly somewhere ahead of us,
we lost contact almost immediately. Sometimes,
in those rare moments of nostalgia, I wonder what happened
to all those guys, just like I wonder about all those vanished
bloggers. Then the feeling passes. It's a fact of life, in
the Real World and elsewhere. People come, people go.
Posted
10.22.07|
crackberry
i
would email you
from my handy blackberry
but i don't got one
