Showing posts with label husbands. Show all posts
Showing posts with label husbands. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

1. I hope they still make kids watch Cosmos 50 years from now. It is hands down the best introduction to all manner of science that also works in our responsibility to not destroy the world/ourselves. Sagan is so earnest that no one can laugh when he says the word "cosmic" or makes you feel very small-yet-also-big.
2. I guess they will soon have to update it with what we've learned about the universe since the 1970s.
3. I hope they don't redo it without Carl Sagan just because kids probably laugh at his 1970s clothes and manner of speech.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

I listen to this on loop and I feel optimistic.

I haven't figured out how to fix the way this site chops off photos and videos that are too wide for it.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

I also like Joel Brouwer, who this person here is homage-ing.
"So this is what it's like to love a dentist, he says, and quarters
the apple. The fruit has nothing to do with foreplay. The fruit
has nothing to do with foreplay. She imagines neighbors.
Enter ox-cart of desire. A jar of pennies jingles in the corner
while they rehearse their marvelous business on the floor."
- Lindsay Marianna Walker, "opening night" via elimae

more Matthew Rohrer

via notnostrums (more there)

From Mars

We have some sad news
this morning
from Mars
the imagination thinks
in phrases but the universe
is a long sentence
according to our instruments
the oldest songs are
breaking apart
like a puzzle in a
basement every so often
we detect the smell
of marshmallows where
there are none the end
cannot be found
in the middle that’s
a dream someone had
that our lives might
have meaning and not
just pop-up advertisements
but we have sad
news this morning
the dream has no
location or direction
and friends separated
by thousands of miles
are thinking of each
other simultaneously
but they have no idea
and we have no way
to reach them

Monday, April 12, 2010

My new husband

"Let us now celebrate the poet
who put her head into the oven.

Let us now celebrate the other poet
who put her head into the oven.

...

Yes, yes, yes, the poets prowl the aisles
of supermarkets and airplanes. They ride bicycles
through urban parks. They climb mountains
that have already been climbed. They pay for dinner.
They tell lies. They test drive the latest Ford
and the most recent Chevrolet. They teach
our children the difference between simile
and metaphor. They tell lies. They go to movies
and weep at happy endings. They tell lies.
They sing in the shower. Most sing poorly.
All of them tell lies. All of them tell lies."

Sherman Alexie, "Open Books"