Friday 30 December 2011


"The role of the artist is exactly the same as the role of the lover. If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don't see."
- James Baldwin

Thursday 29 December 2011

A Man

"A man carries cash. A man looks out for those around him — woman, friend, stranger. A man can cook eggs. A man can always find something good to watch on television. A man makes things — a rock wall, a table, the tuition money. Or he rebuilds — engines, watches, fortunes. He passes along expertise, one man to the next. Know-how survives him. A man fantasizes that kung fu lives deep inside him somewhere. A man is good at his job. Not his work, not his avocation, not his hobby. Not his career. His job. It doesn’t matter what his job is, because if a man doesn’t like his job, he gets a new one.

A man can speak to dogs.

A man listens, and that’s how he argues. He crafts opinions. He can pound the table, take the floor. It’s not that he must. It’s that he can.

A man can look you up and down and figure some things out. Before you say a word, he makes you. From your suitcase, from your watch, from your posture. A man infers.

A man owns up. That’s why Mark McGwire is not a man. A man grasps his mistakes. He lays claim to who he is, and what he was, whether he likes them or not.
Some mistakes, though, he lets pass if no one notices. Like dropping the steak in the dirt.

A man can tell you he was wrong. That he did wrong. That he planned to. He can tell you when he is lost. He can apologize, even if sometimes it’s just to put an end to the bickering.
A man does not wither at the thought of dancing. But it is generally to be avoided.
Style — a man has that. No matter how eccentric that style is, it is uncontrived. It’s a set of rules.

A man loves the human body, the revelation of nakedness. He loves the sight of the pale bosom, the physics of the human skeleton, the alternating current of the flesh. He is thrilled by the wrist and the sight of a bare shoulder. He likes the crease of a bent knee.
Maybe he never has, and maybe he never will, but a man figures he can knock someone, somewhere, on his bottom.

A man doesn’t point out that he did the dishes.

A man knows how to ridicule.

A man gets the door. Without thinking.
He stops traffic when he must.

A man knows how to lose an afternoon. Playing Grand Theft Auto, driving aimlessly, shooting pool.
He knows how to lose a month, also.

A man welcomes the coming of age. It frees him. It allows him to assume the upper hand and teaches him when to step aside.
He understands the basic mechanics of the planet. Or he can close one eye, look up at the sun, and tell you what time of day it is. Or where north is. He can tell you where you might find something to eat or where the fish run. He understands electricity or the internal-combustion engine, the mechanics of flight or how to figure a pitcher’s ERA.

A man does not know everything. He doesn’t try. He likes what other men know.

A man knows his tools and how to use them — just the ones he needs. Knows which saw is for what, how to find the stud, when to use galvanized nails.

A miter saw, incidentally, is the kind that sits on a table, has a circular blade, and is used for cutting at precise angles. Very satisfying saw.
He does not rely on rationalizations or explanations. He doesn’t winnow, winnow, winnow until truths can be humbly categorized, or intellectualized, until behavior can be written off with an explanation. He doesn’t see himself lost in some great maw of humanity, some grand sweep. That’s the liberal thread; it’s why men won’t line up as liberals.

A man resists formulations, questions belief, embraces ambiguity without making a fetish out of it. A man revisits his beliefs. Continually. That’s why men won’t forever line up with conservatives, either.

A man is comfortable being alone. Loves being alone, actually. He sleeps.
Or he stands watch. He interrupts trouble. This is the state policeman. This is the poet. Men, both of them.

A man loves driving alone most of all.

A man watches. Sometimes he goes and sits at an auction knowing he won’t spend a dime, witnessing the temptation and the maneuvering of others. Sometimes he stands on the street corner watching stuff. This is not about quietude so much as collection. It is not about meditation so much as considering. A man refracts his vision and gains acuity. This serves him in every way. No one taught him this — to be quiet, to cipher, to watch. In this way, in these moments, the man is like a zoo animal: both captive and free. You cannot take your eyes off a man when he is like that. You shouldn’t. Who knows what he is thinking, who he is, or what he will do next."

- Tom Chiarella, What Is a Man? (for Esquire)

Wednesday 28 December 2011

Conjuring Thoughts of a Return to Eden


Stars - Changes


This time in between the day and the night
The light kills my sense of life
So scared, I'll turn it on, turn it on, turn it on

It's dull, this dusk, this desk, this dust
My eyes adjust, I'll blow out the flame
Can you and me remain

Changes, I've never been good with change
I hate it when it all stays the same
Caught between the gold and the gain

Changes, I've never been good with change
I hate it when it all stays the same
Caught between the cold and the wave
My heart beats up again

Once said, words make a world of their own
I misread, I can't get you back on the phone
So tired, I'll turn it off, turn it off, turn it off

How's that last week we were whole
You're far away and I hardly know
Can you and me delay

Changes, I've never been good with change
I hate it when it all stays the same
Caught between the gold and the gain

Changes, I've never been good with change
Troubled when it all stays the same
I'm caught between this cold and the wave
My heart beats up again

Are you my trouble
Are you my trouble
Are you my trouble
Trouble

Are you my trouble
Are you my trouble
Are you my trouble

Tuesday 27 December 2011

If you want to win,


you can't be afraid to lose.


Monday 26 December 2011

Cleverbot is Clever!

I was messing around with Cleverbot, and this conversation was recorded.

Me: You're not that clever.
CB: Neither are you.
Me: I never said I was, but you're Cleverbot, which implies that you're supposed to be clever, so therefore my assertion that you're not that clever makes more sense.
CB: I'm not avoiding that subject at all. In fact, I've admitted to that fact.
Me: Well played, Cleverbot.
CB: Sarcasm, how nice.

Sunday 25 December 2011

Valued Things

Things that are of value are double-edged swords. We can get immense happiness, joy and utility from having things that we value, but at the same time we are susceptible to the pain of not having those things we value. Additionally, we are also liable to experience the troublesomeness of having to strive for those things we value. For example, a woman who wants a man who is both competent and good looking certainly has more on her plate to deal with than one who would just rather have competence. But at the same time, having more things to value means that you're more selective, which means having higher standards. People chasing things they value are likely to enjoy the hunt itself and play it like a game.

Choosing to follow a philosophy of life that is more zen (where detachment means no loss and no unhappiness) or more liberal (where it is better to have loved and lost than not loved at all) might ultimately be a matter of what one tends to gain or lose.

Monday 12 December 2011

Last Dance



Oh when the cold wind blows
I feel it to the bone
Oh when you say you know
I feel I am not alone

And even though I may return
To empty places on my own
Where I remember everything you want me to forget.

And you provide a parachute
When I am falling like a stone
And I remember there's a life that I have not lived yet

You and I
Truth and lies
I’ve been fooling myself too long
You and I
Breaking ties
How could we be so right and so wrong?

I hear the words you say
Your mouth against my skin
My world just falls away
You light me from within

And even though I may return
To empty places on my own
Where I remember everything you want me to forget.

And you provide a parachute
When I am falling like a stone
And I remember there's a life that I have not lived yet

You and I
Truth and lies
I’ve been fooling myself too long
You and I
Breaking ties
How could we be so right and so wrong?