:roblog:

mmm, it's hot up in this greenhouse—who's up for a tall tepid one?

conduct your next post mortem on a conference bike!

the lolita video i wrote and matt daniels shot will premiere on Mtv on 5/24!

random captured media can be magic (and randall is rick fox's fiancé).

goodnight, facepants

roan just patted my four-day beard, and chirped, "facepants!"

borders, limitations, they’re all illusory.

the thing is. what i'm getting at.

the receding city is normally less circumspect,
less oblivious to its own irrelevance. but not tonight.
oh no.

what dwindling beneath the rusting hull?
a distant screeching sound, probably utterly sensible
if indecipherable, vaguely unsettling, indistinct.

but what is it i'm talking about? is it really all so
casually juxtaposed? probably so, or not so.
certainly a few arbitrary strings of code,
landscape strewn with shrunken dirigibles,
lined with kiosks, roofs long staved in.

there again: what am i trying to say?

[you feel that summer rain? it's in your face again.]

the fuck are you doing?

this is just to say

this morning roan woke me up at 5:30 demanding "red popcicles," so i took the opportunity to go for a run along the shore, the sun chasing me listlessly across the tranquil sound. there was a perfectly lovely adolescent deer around the northern tip of my side of the island, and we had a lively debate about whether it's worth it to recycle as a symbol of our willingness to change our wasteful habits, even though it takes more energy to recycle than to create new garbage, etc. the deer was all about "energy consumption," but i maintain it's more important to fucking change our behavior. i warned the deer that if the food distribution network is ever disrupted, for any length of time, then i will find it and kill it and feed it to my children. the deer thought that was funny.