Taylor Mali reads his poem, “The The Impotence of Proofreading.”

This morning I found a crow feather. Or at least a very large, black until it’s blue feather.

I am amassing quite a feather collection. Tonight I was adding the recent finds to the rest, arranging feathers in nests instead of flowers in frogs.

This evening I went to student stores before class to buy a snack. An older, professorial man was telling one of the cashiers an anecdote, the end of which went “he referred to it as a heedless sufficiency.”

Cashier: “A what?”

Man: “A heedless sufficiency.”

Cashier: “Is that one or two words?”

Me: LOL

Class went well, but we are already a little behind, I think. I’d open the spreadsheet and check, but an invisible icepick is being driven through my right eye and out my temple, with hot streaks radiating down my jaw and neck into my shoulder.

I don’t really care to cover much more of myself with tattoos.

This does not work for the location I would want another tattoo (to balance the one I already have).

However, now that I’ve seen this, I want it as a tattoo.

Oak

Another oak-related thing I ran across on the Interwebs today:

Tim Murphy gave me a different vision. He wants to be buried toxin-free and naked, ass up, in the fetal position, with an acorn up his butt. “Plant me, and plant a tree. Years later you and others can come sit under my shade, harvest some acorns, and celebrate what is possible.” (source)

Sounds much better than traditional burial or cremation to me. And made me laugh, too.

This Red Velvet¹ Fairy Medieval Renaissance Wedding Gown with Overskirts and Cape- Custom is being sold on Etsy for $1,450. I know that’s not unusually expensive for a wedding dress,² but in my book, for that price, it had better come with the bioluminescent butterflies and tame deer.

And no, I am not searching for a wedding dress. Random find from a red treasury. This listing by the same seller caught my eye at small size.

From the same seller… I will have nightmares about this one:

Too much magick

1. Now I want cake. [↩]
2. Don’t get me started. [↩]

Mischief

From: Mischief Again!

1. Billy Bragg is playing at Cat’s Cradle on September 18.

2. One of my colleagues has a radio show on the local Carrboro station.¹

3. This colleague has scored an interview with Billy Bragg.

4. While conversing about this coup at work today, another colleague and I started hatching plans to attend the show together. She is going to try to get more people in on it, too.

5. This could be quite fun.

Damn, I see that Autolux² is playing September 7 and CocoRosie is playing September 20. James at 9:30 Club in DC on September 27.³ Aaaannnd… Legendary Pink Dots at 506 again on November 3. I could run over there right after teaching cataloging for 2.5 hours. That would be quite the brain shift.

Today I also sent an email asking for more information on the September 25 C.G. Jung Society of the Triangle workshop with James Hollis. Specifically, I asked if it is aimed at professional analysts/therapists/counselors, or whether it is for anyone interested in Jungian ideas and work.

When it rains, it pours.

1. You learn something new every day. I had no idea we had a local wizard. [↩]
2. Last time I saw them play in Carrboro, after the show, Eugene found me and said he couldn’t stop looking at me because my hair was just like his girlfriend’s back home. Over a year later, someone I am pretty damned certain was the same Eugene—he was named Eugene and was in an LA band playing Coachella, and Autolux were on the bill—was very intent on talking to me at the afterparty where Carlos D was spinning. But that all seems like a lifetime ago, back when I was a coolkid and had hip hair.

   I wasn’t that much of a coolkid though, because at that party I stopped a man dancing with a long stream of toilet paper stuck on his shoe and told him he had toilet paper stuck on his shoe, rather than just peer and point and snicker at him like everyone else.

   I thought about this last night, when the friend I sat with at the market started to get up and tell someone they had toilet paper stuck on their shoe before it fell off on its own. He is the kind of person who will tell you that you have toilet paper stuck on you and I value that in a person. [↩]

3. I have my ticket, I have my ticket, as well as plans to meet up with a friend while I’m in DC. yaay! [↩]

You cannot get swine flu from eating pork or pork products.

Nevertheless, in Medical Common Sense (1868), Edward B. Foote, M.D. recommends eating sheep instead.

Foote has a very interesting perspective…

One of the most common causes of blood impurities is the use of pork. It has been said that all things were created for some wise purpose. This is undoubtbly true, but hogs were never made to eat. We read that Christ used them to drown devils; they can never be appropriated to a more beneficient use. As an article of diet, pork exerts a most pernicious influence on the blood, overloading it with carbonic acid gas, and filling it with scrofula. The hog is not a healthy animal. From its birth it is an inveterate gormandizer, and to satisfy its eternal cravings for food, everything in field or gutter, however filthy, finds a lodgment in its capacious stomach. It eats filth, wallows in filth, and is itself but a living mass of filth.

Well, that’s kind of rude. But here’s where it gets really interesting…

Now, when it is remembered that all our limbs and organs have been picked up from our plates—that our bodies are made up of the things we have eaten—what pork-eater will felicitate himself with the reflection that according to physiological teachings, he is physically part hog. “We have been served up at table many times over. Every individual is literally a mass of vivified viands; he is an epitome of innumerable meals; he has dined upon himself, supped upon himself, and in fact—paradoxical as it may appear—has again and again leaped down his own throat.

Reminds me of a scene from Suicide Club… appetizing.