Here’s a sonnet I ripped off just now. I was studying and drinking coffee. I was cold. And when I put the coffee in my lap, I honestly experienced something like this. Yes, it lends itself to psychological reading; I realize that, even though I try not to care about the implications of the sexual references. (In the words of Napoleon Dynamite: “Gosh!”)
Thinking Clearly
I do not want to move to Indiana:
I want to hold a large bowl of hothot coffee
in my crotch: let it warm me up
from the bottom up, my cold neck confusing
the tingling spine: until
something philosophical (almost Greek
but light-footed) comes to mind:
I am Prometheus
getting ready to spring down, like Lucifer,
with this hidden fire in my fire.
My inner thighs! O it is almost too much to bear!
My ankles and back cry out for more.
Get this coal out of my lap, I say, but, I say
You’re on the right track.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Monday, March 27, 2006
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Another wonderful weekend. I think I could get used to these ...
Emily, I enojyed your Collins post. What led you to his poetry in the first place? I'm glad you found him. Did you see Micah's blog post about the current laurate, Ted Kosher? And the poem Micah penned in his honor?
My update:
Friday
Submitted my paper on the Crystal Palace. The paper ended up being a survey of Victorian and contemporary explanations of the structure. The most interesting "reading" of it I found was by Marshall Berman in his monumental work on modernity/modernism called All That is Solid Melts Into Air (thanks for Katie for recommending this one. She read the book in a class on literature of the city at NYU). Berman points out the paradoxical relationship the palace has with nature. The other notable reading was by a Marxist critic who basically designated the building as a fetish object (i.e. a "magical object"). After some tasy pizza at Decent Pizza (my "spot" here in Tallahassee, Katie and I went contra dancing. I'm getting snappy at the swing move and did a waltz at the end.
Saturday
I presented my paper "Kantian Enlightenment and Critical Theory: For a Repoliticization" at the InterVarsity conference on Faith and Scholarship. I read the paper in about 20 minutes, then fielded about 40 minutes worth of questions. It was thrilling. I think some people may be finally seeing the value to reading Foucault. We'll see. I'm submitting an abstract of the paper for a conference coming in the Fall. Went running and grocery shopping with Katie. Got two miles in. Had a fabulous dinner with Katie of pasta with wine-cream sauce and chardonay. Ate strawberries with cream and port for dessert. To everybody back at Royal St.: I think I may be eating as well as you all now!
Sunday
Early service at St. Peter's. Katie made amazing walnut-banana waffles for breakfast. Went to the park study. Went to a Foucault reading group led by Dr. Faulk - my Victorian Lit. prof. and head of my critical theory certificate program. Had a fruitful time discussing some of the Foucault Qs I had to field yesterday. Garrett and his dad brough back a U-Haul of stuff from the recently-deceased grandaddy. We have new couches, TV, DVD player, Breakfast nook table and stools, Harmon organ, Entertainment center, and I have a stereo amp in my room finally!
On the docket for this week:
- grade 24 freshmen papers
- read Isben, Lacan, Foucault, Gogol, stuff for avant-garde course, etc.
- get my car's alignment straightened out
- and of course the most important things :-D
Darcy, any news?
Have a wonderful week everybody.
Much love,
Travis
Emily, I enojyed your Collins post. What led you to his poetry in the first place? I'm glad you found him. Did you see Micah's blog post about the current laurate, Ted Kosher? And the poem Micah penned in his honor?
My update:
Friday
Submitted my paper on the Crystal Palace. The paper ended up being a survey of Victorian and contemporary explanations of the structure. The most interesting "reading" of it I found was by Marshall Berman in his monumental work on modernity/modernism called All That is Solid Melts Into Air (thanks for Katie for recommending this one. She read the book in a class on literature of the city at NYU). Berman points out the paradoxical relationship the palace has with nature. The other notable reading was by a Marxist critic who basically designated the building as a fetish object (i.e. a "magical object"). After some tasy pizza at Decent Pizza (my "spot" here in Tallahassee, Katie and I went contra dancing. I'm getting snappy at the swing move and did a waltz at the end.
Saturday
I presented my paper "Kantian Enlightenment and Critical Theory: For a Repoliticization" at the InterVarsity conference on Faith and Scholarship. I read the paper in about 20 minutes, then fielded about 40 minutes worth of questions. It was thrilling. I think some people may be finally seeing the value to reading Foucault. We'll see. I'm submitting an abstract of the paper for a conference coming in the Fall. Went running and grocery shopping with Katie. Got two miles in. Had a fabulous dinner with Katie of pasta with wine-cream sauce and chardonay. Ate strawberries with cream and port for dessert. To everybody back at Royal St.: I think I may be eating as well as you all now!
Sunday
Early service at St. Peter's. Katie made amazing walnut-banana waffles for breakfast. Went to the park study. Went to a Foucault reading group led by Dr. Faulk - my Victorian Lit. prof. and head of my critical theory certificate program. Had a fruitful time discussing some of the Foucault Qs I had to field yesterday. Garrett and his dad brough back a U-Haul of stuff from the recently-deceased grandaddy. We have new couches, TV, DVD player, Breakfast nook table and stools, Harmon organ, Entertainment center, and I have a stereo amp in my room finally!
On the docket for this week:
- grade 24 freshmen papers
- read Isben, Lacan, Foucault, Gogol, stuff for avant-garde course, etc.
- get my car's alignment straightened out
- and of course the most important things :-D
Darcy, any news?
Have a wonderful week everybody.
Much love,
Travis
Friday, March 24, 2006
trying to catch his horses
The Billy Collins volume that I am reading right now is called Nine Horses. I am growing more and more impressed with him. I liked the sound and the words before, but I am coming to think there is a substance, too. Almost all the poems are so ordinary at first glance, but I don't think I am projecting meaning onto them. But even if I am, maybe that is the point.
You may all be glad or indifferent to know that I am writing more again. A little of the fear is going away, though I imagine when I get the letter of rejection from SPU I will go hide under my rock again. The following is a still evolving poem, to Billy Collins. (I almost typed that as "Mr. Collins" until I realized how horrible the implications were.)
It is as difficult as I thought it might be
to write as you do, and to mimic
your casual words and your perambulating lines,
which are all about your tears--
the tears that spring on chopping an onion--
and about walking through your house and
your life in the morning sunlight and on
a rainy afternoon. You talked about breakfast
and alluded to the classical world before mentioning
that you woke up last night and stared at
the shapes made by a curtain, while listening
to the sleep of the living woman by your side.
And somehow all that is a poem and
I find that the top of my head has been grazed
by the axe the other Emily was looking for.
And so my pen is floating over this paper,
and ink is spilt in the form of
twenty-six velvet actors.
You may all be glad or indifferent to know that I am writing more again. A little of the fear is going away, though I imagine when I get the letter of rejection from SPU I will go hide under my rock again. The following is a still evolving poem, to Billy Collins. (I almost typed that as "Mr. Collins" until I realized how horrible the implications were.)
It is as difficult as I thought it might be
to write as you do, and to mimic
your casual words and your perambulating lines,
which are all about your tears--
the tears that spring on chopping an onion--
and about walking through your house and
your life in the morning sunlight and on
a rainy afternoon. You talked about breakfast
and alluded to the classical world before mentioning
that you woke up last night and stared at
the shapes made by a curtain, while listening
to the sleep of the living woman by your side.
And somehow all that is a poem and
I find that the top of my head has been grazed
by the axe the other Emily was looking for.
And so my pen is floating over this paper,
and ink is spilt in the form of
twenty-six velvet actors.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Week of much talk
All,
Well, let the electronic record of the past few days on reflect that many words were spilled on the fate of an institution that is no longer within our direct sphere of influence.
Travis, we appear to be ignorant enough to need to take your hipster course. I have only read a little Ginsberg, nothing else. Basic starting recommendations?
This weekend I betook myself to the library, fleeing an overdose of Royal Street boy add-ons. (The nasty supermarket-like library in Leesburg). I scooped up a fairly random selection before the electronic voice cleared us all out of there:
- An anthology of English country house murders
- a critical anthology of Donne (emphasis on his sermons)
- a collections of short stories that have appeared over the years in Esquire
- a book of cultural context essays re: Austen
- a volume of Billy Collins poetry
So far I have read bits of the Donne book, the mysteries and some Billy Collins poetry. The Donne book, ed. by John Moses, has an interesting introduction by the Archbishop of Cantebury, but other than that is disappointing so far. I will let you know if Moses redeems himself.
The Collins poetry I like, but I liked him before. He has a style like a pen and ink drawing with clean lines, and is obliquely beautiful. The murder mystery complier picked a very bad example of Lord Peter, and so I am ticked. Although he does suggest that defenestration should be a more common murder method. I quite agree.
All for now, the office and the morning sun are scolding me.
Well, let the electronic record of the past few days on reflect that many words were spilled on the fate of an institution that is no longer within our direct sphere of influence.
Travis, we appear to be ignorant enough to need to take your hipster course. I have only read a little Ginsberg, nothing else. Basic starting recommendations?
This weekend I betook myself to the library, fleeing an overdose of Royal Street boy add-ons. (The nasty supermarket-like library in Leesburg). I scooped up a fairly random selection before the electronic voice cleared us all out of there:
- An anthology of English country house murders
- a critical anthology of Donne (emphasis on his sermons)
- a collections of short stories that have appeared over the years in Esquire
- a book of cultural context essays re: Austen
- a volume of Billy Collins poetry
So far I have read bits of the Donne book, the mysteries and some Billy Collins poetry. The Donne book, ed. by John Moses, has an interesting introduction by the Archbishop of Cantebury, but other than that is disappointing so far. I will let you know if Moses redeems himself.
The Collins poetry I like, but I liked him before. He has a style like a pen and ink drawing with clean lines, and is obliquely beautiful. The murder mystery complier picked a very bad example of Lord Peter, and so I am ticked. Although he does suggest that defenestration should be a more common murder method. I quite agree.
All for now, the office and the morning sun are scolding me.
A Weekend of the New
Wow. I feel like a monsoon deluge, soaking this cyber-pastoral space. But news is news!
I'm sure Brooks has updated everybody on the vital piece of information *wink, wink* i.e. the girl news.
I got a new car. Yesterday, Katie and I drove out of town a bit to look at a Black 98 Civic with 88,000 miles. The asking price was $4890. So, it turns out the guy, Ron - a man in his late 50s (Silver hair club, as he said) - has five others cars, including a '36 Ford and '55 Ford. Beautiful stuff. We took the car for a joyride on I-10 and some dirt roads. On the drive, we decided I would get the car if nothing bad turned up after talking to Ron. Nothing turned up - except that the alignment needs a bit of work. But I didn't bring my money, so we had to go back and get it. Ron, however, wanted a deposit! I only had $4, but Katie had a $20 spot, so we left that. Got the money, drove back, and drove off with the Civic. Pictures coming soon, hopefully.
It's been a happy weekend :-)
Love to all.
I'm sure Brooks has updated everybody on the vital piece of information *wink, wink* i.e. the girl news.
I got a new car. Yesterday, Katie and I drove out of town a bit to look at a Black 98 Civic with 88,000 miles. The asking price was $4890. So, it turns out the guy, Ron - a man in his late 50s (Silver hair club, as he said) - has five others cars, including a '36 Ford and '55 Ford. Beautiful stuff. We took the car for a joyride on I-10 and some dirt roads. On the drive, we decided I would get the car if nothing bad turned up after talking to Ron. Nothing turned up - except that the alignment needs a bit of work. But I didn't bring my money, so we had to go back and get it. Ron, however, wanted a deposit! I only had $4, but Katie had a $20 spot, so we left that. Got the money, drove back, and drove off with the Civic. Pictures coming soon, hopefully.
It's been a happy weekend :-)
Love to all.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Variations on a Theme
Dana,
This is one is for you and others who may be wondering what a hipster is. I hope this is helpful.
Let's start generic.
Sir OED says:
"One who is ‘hip’; a hip- (or hep-)cat. Also attrib. Hence hipsterism, the condition or fact of being a hipster; the characteristics of hipsters. Cf. HEPSTER." Some sources, while not necessarily helpful but colorful, that are given is:
1948 Partisan Rev. XV. 722 Carrying his language and his new philosophy like concealed weapons, the hipster set out to conquer the world.
1956 Observer 23 Sept. 2/5 ‘Hipster’ is modern jazz parlance for ‘hep-cat’.
1959 ‘F. NEWTON’ Jazz Scene 291 Jive~talk or hipster-talk is..an argot or cant designed to set the group apart from outsiders.
1967 Lancet 15 July 150/2 The ‘hipster’ movement in California..seemed to be an outright rejection of accepted standards and values."
Okay, let's do irony and cite The Hipster Handbook, useful - yes - but overdetermined historonically (wow, that sounds pretentious!):
"One who possesses tastes, social attitudes, and opinions deemed cool by the cool. (Note: it is no longer recommended that one use the term "cool"; a Hipster would instead say "deck.") The Hipster walks among the masses in daily life but is not a part of them and shuns or reduces to kitsch anything held dear by the mainstream. A Hipster ideally possesses no more than 2% body fat."
Time to get serious. And by this I mean, literary ...
Allen Ginsberg, from Howl: "angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly / connection to the starry dynamo in the machin- / ery of night ..." (9). I.e, a druggie.
Jack Kerouac, in On the Road mentions the hipsters haunting the jazz and bop joints in his jaunts across the country. Here the hipster is defined by his "hip" style - zootsuits - and "hip" musical taste. Yeah, the cat knows what's up.
William S. Burroughs, in Junky, on our contemporary condition (Dana: think of The Black Cat club here):
"The young hipsters seem lacking in energy and spontaneous enjoyment of life. ... They jump around and say, 'Too much! Crazy! Man, let's pick up! Let's get loaded.' But after a shot, they slump into a chair like a resigned baby waiting for life to bring the bottle again" (123).
Finally, I give you the source himself, Norman Mailer:
"...the American existentialist - the hipster, the man who knows that if our collective condition is to live with instant death by atomic war, relatively quick death by the State ... or with a slow death by conformity with every creative and rebellious instinct stifled ... why then the only life-giving answer is to accept the terms of death, to live with death as immediate danger .... One is either Hip or one is Square ... one is a rebel or one conforms, one is a frontiersman in the Wild West of American night life, or else one a Square cell, trapped in totalitarian tissues of American society, doomed willy-nilly to conform if one is to succeed" (2-3).
Them are fightin' words. A far committed-cry from the button-covered messanger-toting "hipsters" you see around Brooklyn or your local "indie" show.
Alright. This probably didn't help one bit. But hopefully it has colored Hipster a bit.
:-)
P.S. Maybe the most important thing to remember is the jagged-androgynist-dyed-black-hairdos.
This is one is for you and others who may be wondering what a hipster is. I hope this is helpful.
Let's start generic.
Sir OED says:
"One who is ‘hip’; a hip- (or hep-)cat. Also attrib. Hence hipsterism, the condition or fact of being a hipster; the characteristics of hipsters. Cf. HEPSTER." Some sources, while not necessarily helpful but colorful, that are given is:
1948 Partisan Rev. XV. 722 Carrying his language and his new philosophy like concealed weapons, the hipster set out to conquer the world.
1956 Observer 23 Sept. 2/5 ‘Hipster’ is modern jazz parlance for ‘hep-cat’.
1959 ‘F. NEWTON’ Jazz Scene 291 Jive~talk or hipster-talk is..an argot or cant designed to set the group apart from outsiders.
1967 Lancet 15 July 150/2 The ‘hipster’ movement in California..seemed to be an outright rejection of accepted standards and values."
Okay, let's do irony and cite The Hipster Handbook, useful - yes - but overdetermined historonically (wow, that sounds pretentious!):
"One who possesses tastes, social attitudes, and opinions deemed cool by the cool. (Note: it is no longer recommended that one use the term "cool"; a Hipster would instead say "deck.") The Hipster walks among the masses in daily life but is not a part of them and shuns or reduces to kitsch anything held dear by the mainstream. A Hipster ideally possesses no more than 2% body fat."
Time to get serious. And by this I mean, literary ...
Allen Ginsberg, from Howl: "angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly / connection to the starry dynamo in the machin- / ery of night ..." (9). I.e, a druggie.
Jack Kerouac, in On the Road mentions the hipsters haunting the jazz and bop joints in his jaunts across the country. Here the hipster is defined by his "hip" style - zootsuits - and "hip" musical taste. Yeah, the cat knows what's up.
William S. Burroughs, in Junky, on our contemporary condition (Dana: think of The Black Cat club here):
"The young hipsters seem lacking in energy and spontaneous enjoyment of life. ... They jump around and say, 'Too much! Crazy! Man, let's pick up! Let's get loaded.' But after a shot, they slump into a chair like a resigned baby waiting for life to bring the bottle again" (123).
Finally, I give you the source himself, Norman Mailer:
"...the American existentialist - the hipster, the man who knows that if our collective condition is to live with instant death by atomic war, relatively quick death by the State ... or with a slow death by conformity with every creative and rebellious instinct stifled ... why then the only life-giving answer is to accept the terms of death, to live with death as immediate danger .... One is either Hip or one is Square ... one is a rebel or one conforms, one is a frontiersman in the Wild West of American night life, or else one a Square cell, trapped in totalitarian tissues of American society, doomed willy-nilly to conform if one is to succeed" (2-3).
Them are fightin' words. A far committed-cry from the button-covered messanger-toting "hipsters" you see around Brooklyn or your local "indie" show.
Alright. This probably didn't help one bit. But hopefully it has colored Hipster a bit.
:-)
P.S. Maybe the most important thing to remember is the jagged-androgynist-dyed-black-hairdos.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Writing on the Hipster
This is the title for my proposed ENC1145 course for next. A course that I am designing from scratch. Definately the most fun I've had in any of my pedagogy training so far! Today some folks looked over the proposal and it looks like I'm almost ready to go! I'm optimistic now about the course approved and being able to teach it next year.
Here's the idea: I want to explore countercultural/subcultural phenomenon around the person/character of the hipster. As a class, our critique will center around the idea of whether the hipster is a viable alternative/response to mainstream culture. Or what it, as a phenomenon, might illustrate about culture.
The reading list so far:
On the Road, Jack Kerouac
Howl, Allen Ginsberg
"The White Negro," Norman Mailer
The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky
I'm thinking of tossing in some stuff like Kerouac's "The Essentials of Spontaneous Prose," and the movie High Fidelity.
For paper topics, I'm having the kiddos do a short story, a countercultural history, a report on the local "countercultural" music scene, a mix tape compilation with textual notes.
Any suggestions would be much loved :-)
My Victorian Lit. paper got pushed back a bit, so this means I can breath a bit tonight and do reading tomorrow's Avant Garde writing class (Masso's Ava and Cixous' "Laugh of the Medusa").
I hope all is well on Royal Street. Any fresh breezy howling, hmm?
Here's the idea: I want to explore countercultural/subcultural phenomenon around the person/character of the hipster. As a class, our critique will center around the idea of whether the hipster is a viable alternative/response to mainstream culture. Or what it, as a phenomenon, might illustrate about culture.
The reading list so far:
On the Road, Jack Kerouac
Howl, Allen Ginsberg
"The White Negro," Norman Mailer
The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky
I'm thinking of tossing in some stuff like Kerouac's "The Essentials of Spontaneous Prose," and the movie High Fidelity.
For paper topics, I'm having the kiddos do a short story, a countercultural history, a report on the local "countercultural" music scene, a mix tape compilation with textual notes.
Any suggestions would be much loved :-)
My Victorian Lit. paper got pushed back a bit, so this means I can breath a bit tonight and do reading tomorrow's Avant Garde writing class (Masso's Ava and Cixous' "Laugh of the Medusa").
I hope all is well on Royal Street. Any fresh breezy howling, hmm?
Monday, March 13, 2006
30 Hours later ...
So. I got back from the bustrip at 5:30am this morning. Partially thanks to all the fun we were having on the pier in olde towne Alexandria, I missed the first buses out of D.C. and Richmond (!). I was stuck in Richmond till 5am. During this time I managed somehow to get through a good chunk of Nabokov's biography on Gogol (I'm doing a term paper on it). I got a bit of sleep till the bus arrived in Raleigh, N.C. Thus, when I arrived in Atlanta, I missed the Tallahassee-bound bus by 40 minutes! I was stuck in Atlanta for six hours last night and finally left at 11pm. Garrett was kind enough to pick me up from the greyhound station this morning.
Greyhound travel tips:
- Bring a small pillow (they make these chic little ones for the fashion-savy nowadays)
- Bring a gallon jug of water (from Micah, he does this everytime)
- Bring santized wipes (yes, it does get pretty dirty after a day)
- Bring the iPod/portable CD-player
- Bring book(s) (notice the plural here!)
- Wear thick-soled, yet comfortable shoes (my feet have been screwed up all day)
- Bring an extra change of socks in your bag
- Wear a beanie (for those traveling incognito)
- Enjoy watching America role by sedately, mile by mile.
Each trip was a mini-epic. You really do lose track of time, yet are very conscious of it in a mico-sense. Hmm, that doesn't really make any sense. I'll think about it some more.
Everybody: Keep up the posts rolling!
Em, I can see you fantasizing about smashing up your workroom and transforming it into dada art. Wouldn't that be fun? At least your aesthetic principle would not be distracted by a world war!
Greyhound travel tips:
- Bring a small pillow (they make these chic little ones for the fashion-savy nowadays)
- Bring a gallon jug of water (from Micah, he does this everytime)
- Bring santized wipes (yes, it does get pretty dirty after a day)
- Bring the iPod/portable CD-player
- Bring book(s) (notice the plural here!)
- Wear thick-soled, yet comfortable shoes (my feet have been screwed up all day)
- Bring an extra change of socks in your bag
- Wear a beanie (for those traveling incognito)
- Enjoy watching America role by sedately, mile by mile.
Each trip was a mini-epic. You really do lose track of time, yet are very conscious of it in a mico-sense. Hmm, that doesn't really make any sense. I'll think about it some more.
Everybody: Keep up the posts rolling!
Em, I can see you fantasizing about smashing up your workroom and transforming it into dada art. Wouldn't that be fun? At least your aesthetic principle would not be distracted by a world war!
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Royal Street decides
We have finally chosen and purchased a piece to go over the mantel.
I give you Edward Hopper's First Row Orchestra:
I give you Edward Hopper's First Row Orchestra:
Friday, March 10, 2006
dadadadadadadadadada
Dada is for everyone... and six rooms of it makes one's head hurt.
And let us not forget the wise words of the bad guy marionette: "Kill me! Kill me! For I have not analyzed myself."
And let us not forget the wise words of the bad guy marionette: "Kill me! Kill me! For I have not analyzed myself."
Dada Celebration
Today:
A contingent from the Blue Room is planning to make a visit to the Dada exhibit at the National Gallery of Art in D.C. This will complete a fantastic week of reunions. Last night we - all five of us - enjoyed a feast at the Royal St. residence. Our repast consisted of a fabulous dish of pasta, sausage, green peppers, smoked salmon appetizers, and a bottle of shiraz. We topped off the meal with a walk to the grocery store for ice cream and coffee.
Conversation topics includes:
- Em's boy problems
- Travis' girl update
- the Oscars (who's hot, who's not)
- honey-mooning in trailers
- how to handle howling gust through door jamb
Being the first the time the Blue Room has been united since the inception of this blog, members of this esteemed blog should now take advantage of the sentiment garnered by this occasion in order to renew their blogging efforts on this space (!).
Time to go see some art.
-- Brooks and Travis
A contingent from the Blue Room is planning to make a visit to the Dada exhibit at the National Gallery of Art in D.C. This will complete a fantastic week of reunions. Last night we - all five of us - enjoyed a feast at the Royal St. residence. Our repast consisted of a fabulous dish of pasta, sausage, green peppers, smoked salmon appetizers, and a bottle of shiraz. We topped off the meal with a walk to the grocery store for ice cream and coffee.
Conversation topics includes:
- Em's boy problems
- Travis' girl update
- the Oscars (who's hot, who's not)
- honey-mooning in trailers
- how to handle howling gust through door jamb
Being the first the time the Blue Room has been united since the inception of this blog, members of this esteemed blog should now take advantage of the sentiment garnered by this occasion in order to renew their blogging efforts on this space (!).
Time to go see some art.
-- Brooks and Travis
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