I was planning on a nice quiet night at home until Steve dragged me kicking and screaming to the Lit so I could make some changes to the TwiFi site design before he goes down to Columbus next week to present on it. While I did this Andy showed some geek porn on the bar closed-circuit television. We watched a 1992 instructional video on a 15 ppm printer and a sales video for file servers. Nick and Ballroom Johnson were also there, so there was talk over hand-drawn electrical diagrams and Argentinian polka. I also got the basics put together for a site that my buddy Jeremy requested for his brother, who was recently diagnosed with sarcoma and has an even chance of making it another year.

Since it has been awhile here are some cool links:

• MetaFilter Music- music created by site users. Really great so far, and brand new. [My favorites thusfar].
• Upon First Meeting- RISD photography student’s gallery of portraits of people from Craigslist.
• Victor Borge Phonetic Punctuation, Victor Borge with muppets [flash vid]
• Kitten Cannon
• The Collier System for the Classification of Very Small Objects
• The Aural Times- Josh Millard composes songs about the news.

Getting to my apartment has been even hairier than usual lately. Both entrance streets are one way, but the one that is most accessible to me is on-again/off-again closed by a construction company that is building 5 $200k tax-abated townhouses on about 2000 ft² of land. Each townhouse is, literally, ten feet wide. Would you pay that kind of money for a house ten feet wide? They are going to be three stories, with rooftop porches that have a delightful downwind view of the steel mill and of the rotting rooftops of the houses next door to them. The last time I saw the plans, they were also going to have one wall angling out over the street, and one side of the building covered in corrugation. That’ll look really pretty after a few years of sulfur dioxide in the rain. I really can’t see these things selling, but they probably will. I don’t know much about that.

I’m just bitching because my ride home takes an extra three minutes.

• Vise Grips.
• Drop an anvil on it.
• With your thighs.
• Throw it into a black hole.
• Raise its property taxes.
• Trash compactor.
• Using some fat guy’s man-breasts.
• Using some hot chick’s woman-breasts.
• Belly flopping on it.
• With Dynamic Tension™.

I got up early this morning and rode my bike from Tremont to the Memphis Drive-in for the flea market. I killed about an hour and a half browsing through all the booths, eating some soft-serve and shooting the breeze. I ended up buying Dr. Mario and Pro Wrestling for my NES for $5. Then I went from Brooklyn to Detroit-Shoreway and the 84 Charing Cross Bookstore. This is a book collector’s bookstore and they have some absolutely amazing stuff, including some editions of Edgar Rice Burroughs adventures with great cover art. They’ve got a huge selection of poetry, first editions of many books and lots of signed works as well. I ended up getting a fencing manual from the turn of the century [the 20th century]. They’re only open on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays, or by appointment, but if you love books, you should make the effort to visit. They also have a beagle with really soft ears.

I rode on home and put some nice thick pork chops in a marinade and then went to do my laundry where I chatted with a cool girl and her Papillon. Then I grilled my pork chops on the charcoal grill I picked up last week and they were simply delicious. I think pork chops are probably always best grilled. Now I’m at Tremont Scoops, where I just polished off a pint of Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup ice cream. I’m sitting outside, using their WiFi and watching loaded suburbanites pack themselves into Lolly the Trolley for this weekend’s Tremont House Tour. I think I’m gonna go home and play some Dr. Mario now.

If I’m ever going to get out of this rut and in a situation where I can do something that means something I’m going to need a stronger skill set. I think I’ve figured out why no one wants to hire me. I obviously don’t have enough experience or strong enough skills for the type of positions I’ve been seeking. Even though Heinlein said “specialization is for insects” and I’ve been of that particular mindset since before I knew who Heinlein was, it looks like I have to bug out. My current position is not doing anything to enhance my employable skills, so I think I’m going to have to up anchor and go exploring. Just as soon as I save up a couple thousand more.

          -for Nick Traenkner

There is alcohol in me tonight, alcohol
and yes I have breathed in smoke and
breathed it back out out to you surrounded
by words unctuous, bombastic, evangelical.

Dress me in horse hair, the hair what was once
a horse and a belt of leather from what was once
a cow so costumed words take on legitimacy

or invest me in silks as the new pope of continual
omnipotent excess. The dirt of life is death
death death! The dirt of life is the fruit of death.
The dirt of life is a scientific experiment where

you tread on wheels while I spume and wrack at
you, your bare feet hatched with the turning
tide. Proud in persistence. I will talk until

you listen.

          -for Eric Alleman

He works at
the Record Exchange.   I didn’t
know this until I
saw him there.

I knew him despite
his lost
play-off beard.   He did not
know me.

   He was not
friendly, this man of intent
gesture.

His voice:
   a thumb
   holding your face
   to the wall.

Outside
        you hear something

   howling.

I’m writing poems about poets I’ve seen in Cleveland. They’re meant to be read in the reading styles of aforementioned poets.

Lately I have this feeling that I liken to being inside an egg. I am inside this egg and what I do with my life paints the inside of the shell and everywhere I look things aren’t so bad, since I’ve colored every bit of space in the shell. Yet there is a feeling deep in my lizard hindbrain that this shell is so much less than I think it is; a suspicion that it is nothing more than a shell and that if I broke it my world would open wide. But I’m not strong enough or focused enough to break it at the right spot.

I bought a grill yesterday and grilled some sweet corn and burgers and made Steve come over and eat some of it. It is an 18.5″ charcoal grill, one of the cheapo deals and even on sale. Nevertheless, the box said the grill was “deluxe.” Which makes me wonder just how crummy a non-deluxe grill must be. It got the job done though, and will work very well as long as I maintain it. Ground sirloin was on sale, so the burgers were better for it. I put Worcestershire sauce in two of them and an impromptu spice combination in the other two. Some smoked Gouda on top, with lettuce and tomato, and those were some kind of delicious. The Red Stripe was particularly nice on such a hot day.

Now that I’ve got a grill, I should throw a party.

I am going
           outside

and there is
             nothing

you can do about
                 it.

My newest film infatuation is Forbidden Zone, a creation by The Mystic Knights of the Oingo Boingo and featuring a great soundtrack enhanced by Danny Elfman.

True to my ever-eclectic film taste, this cult masterpiece combines my favorite German Expressionism, old style Bosco cartoonishness, extra-dimensions, midgets [Herve Villechaize!], frog butlers, hot topless women, and bondage into a strange confection of joy [to me at least]. This is definitely something you should see at some point in your life. Many thanks go to Ballroom Johnson and Andy at The Lit for introducing me to this film. I now own it on DVD, though it took 6 weeks to get it. Here is another take on it and the official site [images]. Thanks to YouTube, you can see some clips:

• Squeezit the Moocher [Danny Elfman as Satan!]
• Bim Bam Boom
• Pico and Sepulveda
• Learn Your ABCs
• Witch’s Egg [Susan Tyrell!]

I’m not creative like an artist or musician or a poet or a chef or a filmmaker or a writer, but I am creative. I’m creative because my need to to build and support rather than destroy or undermine makes me a creator. Creating community or reinforcing networks might not be as immediately edifying as a well written poem or a pretty tune or a tasty dinner, but I think intangible creativity of that sort [parenting could be another example] lets the creator retain his creative integrity longer.

What I mean by creative integrity is that a creator should create not for his own edification or the use of others, but for the creation itself, that it may be. Appending value onto the creation is necessary and appropriate, as is edification and effective use, but I feel most edified during the process and completion of creation. Effective use can be striven for, but is not guaranteed, which is why I feel it is secondary to the existence of a creation itself. There is a sort of amazement at accomplishment and a simultaneous loss of power in a finished product. That moment of equilibrium maintains creative integrity. If the amazement rules, ego can take precedence over the act of creation. If others begin to determine the creative path, the creator becomes an automaton.

racecar  rraceca   
acecarr  racecar   
cecarra  acecarr     weres
ecarrac  cecarra     awari
carrace  ecarrac     rends
arracec  carrace   
rraceca  arracec   

flckr shdw
ftprnt
thndr rmbl
trnchct
wckr rstv
bmbl b
wnch thrt
cght cgh
mth rhthm
pm slp drk
ngl wth grs
fr wngs

Do me a favor, buy some vowels, fill ‘em in above and tell me what you think it says. Y’r m gn pg.

My contract with Verizon Wireless is almost up, and since I’ve had consistently bad experiences with them when I got my contract two years ago I switched to T-Mobile. Not only did Verizon not send me the rebate for my phone, they fudged up my number transfer and had ridiculously crappy customer service. Oh yeah, they also turned over my call records to the NSA, which was in direct violation of my contract. T-Mobile hooked me up with a new phone, and more minutes at the same price that Verizon was charging and refused the NSA’s demand. Activation was a cinch, and I even got a prompt email response from an actual human to a suggestion I had. Go T-Mobile, even if you need shorter contracts and a plan with low anytime minutes but unlimited nights and weekends. [Yeah right, no one has that.]

Oh yeah, if you get a new cell phone remember to recycle the old one. If you live in Cleveland there are three different places I found that will take your old phone:

1. League of Women Voters
2. Cleveland Metroparks Zoo
3. Cleveland Museum of Natural History

The League of Women Voters will be getting mine.

I have always been better at tactics than strategy and I’m not trying a new tactic at poem writing. Instead of putting it down fastlike, I’m working on it micro-sized for the mini-times a milli-muse comes stalking. Writing by attrition.

•The Cleveland Planning Commission has this awesome interactive map that I was shown last evening while planning the 2007 Cleveland Leadership Summit. If you like playing with statistics, or trying to get an overview of basic city situations, this is the site for you.
• Here is a 2004 pdf from Juvenile Court with data on juvy crime based on Statistical Planning Area. Some interesting correlations can be found comparing this data to the map.
• If you are familiar with any resources and programs for youth and you live in the City of Cleveland, please give me that information, including Ward # and contact information if possible.

This is an essential part of our youth need assessment which, coupled with an in-school survey, will be presented to Mayor Jackson with a request that city employees be allowed flex time each month to do volunteer work with Cleveland youth, in the types of programs that Cleveland youth want to participate in. Our angle is that the city might not have money to use for our kids, but it certainly has the manpower.

I’m responsible for gathering data on programs in Ward 13, but I’m also going to call up Neighborhood Connections to see if they can provide me with some data on youth-oriented programs affiliated with them. Adam, remember to call:

• Councilman Cimperman
• Merrick House
• TWDC
• Churches

and follow-up on whatever leads you get, instead of sitting on your duff drinking hard liquor.

I just called the Cleveland Municipal School District to request some pretty general data about the district; specifically, the number of schools in the district and how they breakdown between elementary, K-8 and high schools. I need this data for some of the preparatory work for the 2007 Cleveland Leadership Summit. The receptionist who answered the phone and the PR person I was ultimately directed to were perhaps the rudest people I’ve ever spoken with on the telephone. Great public face, CMSD.

So I talked to some community development old-hatters about the CMSD and they all chuckled at me in my naïvete, since they’ve had first-hand experience for ages at just how rude the CMSD can be.

Many people say that my Uncle Corbin is the spit and image of his dad, my grandpa. For the most part that is bang-on. He’s loud and stubborn and disciplined and dedicated and committed to his family. He is a firm believer that if you are going to do something, you should do it the right way [usually his way] and to the best of your ability. [A trait most of my family exhibits] When my parents divorced, Corbin decided to be a father figure for me when I needed one. For my 16th birthday he got his hands on some Notre Dame football tickets, and I got to see Lou Holtz’s last home game at the stadium, and visit ND for the first time.

Later, when I started going to school there, I’d see him just about whenever he came to campus, for a couple’s retreat with his wife, my Aunt Mary. Life at ND was particularly hard for me for a variety of reasons and I once had a long talk with Corbin about the difficulties I was having with my roommate and women and his advice and willingness to share his own tough times were immensely helpful, although I might not have realized it at the time.

Corbin is a pretty die-hard party-line Republican. He refuses to buy Grey Goose vodka because the French don’t support the US, won’t buy Coors beer because they support GLBT stuff and other things I can’t quite wrap my head around.

Corbin gave me my first cigar, at my Cousin Luke’s wedding. When we go to Canada, he usually has two or three for me as well. Corbin is a very good fisherman. It is hard to beat him when it comes to catching walleye. He also knows how to cook. His steaks and ribs and baked fish are outstanding. We always bicker and get pissed off at each other at least once on a trip to Canada, mainly because we’re so much alike personality-wise and because I’m driving the boat. We also get into fights when we are euchre partners, but again, that is the case for everyone in my family. After we’ve had time to cool down, it is like nothing happened. But over and above all, his generosity is unstinting and unending and I’m glad he’s my uncle because my life would be much less colorful and educational without him.