Clay's B-Day

It's my little bud's birthday today (5, I think).
Hell, I don't keep up with my age anymore, but at any rate, yeah, stuff.

So, I'm just going to blog the hell out of it today.

Maybe I'll get my contributer copies for another publication in the mail today.

Maybe it won't immediately embarrass me.


I can't remember who said it, or exactly how he or she said it, but it is 100% truth:

"As soon as you publish a piece, forget about it. Because as soon as you start looking back at it, the more you start to doubt it."

--Some Dude (paraphrased)

Mary loves the quotes, reminders of the craft spattered about her door.
Glue stains about Ms. O'Connor and David Lee Roth,
where the eyes and the ears and the heart fold palms and adjure
to learn of the shape and the scope of the days and days to come.


Hell, it's probably on her old oak door as I type this.


Then again:
Maybe I made up having read it/seen it/remembering it/recalling it/and trying
to write it out above..
I can't remember.

I have early Alzheimer's.
Or something.
I think I've bled too much in my youth to sustain this.
I'm rambling again.
Google's giving me nothing on the quote.
But damn it, I think I read it somewhere.
Kooser's Book, perhaps?
I read a bit at work, when the books're used,
and no one's gonna jump my shit.
I didn't care $15 bucks worth for what I read.
Amazon's probably got it for like seven-plus-tax.
uhhh. . . .yep.
But I'm poor.
I'm cheap.
It's in the queue as I'm in the queue.

Devour.





Big Boy is closer to 15--a year or two this way or that.
He, like I, cannot remember as well as we used to.

Updates

Two updates:


1) Looks like Static Movement has folded. That sucks.

2) Looks like Opium's old archives are no more. Kinda sucks. For all its character overruns and screwed spacing, I was so excited to see my words in digital print for the first time. Oh, well.


Onward and onward, I say. Onward and onward.

Why Do Tuesdays Beg For A Post?

Perhaps it's because we're now 0-5.

Perhaps it's because rejection comes
more often between
6AM Sunday - and - 3 AM Tuesday
than any other time of the week.

Perhaps it's because it's completely random.


I'll take the third option over any other.



Wrestle with it.

Script, II

Actually, it works better the other way so far.

The Script

Dur. . .

I made the mistake of trying to break a mold, now suffering with the thoughts of rewriting the first act (which I designed to be more like the second act but at the same time being the first act, but now I realize the second act (which was more like the first act) needs to be the first act (because I'm better at writing argument/family strife than long expositions of two sets of folks telling each other how badly they want to kick each other's ass) and now needs to be set up as a flashback (and goddammit, I hate flashbacks) and I'm just barely getting to the turn of the "second" act (the first for those counting my bullshit).

It's my first in a decade, and even then I didn't know the fuck I was doing, so shush.

Hopefully, the whole revenge/justice/woo-hoo-a-whole-buncha-muthas-gettin'-splattered will begin momentarily. But it probably won't, and this'll probably end up an engrossing family drama, where babies dance as tulips in the end.





Do What?

I have no clue.

Wedding, Whistling, Working (not)

Congrats, man! Hope this time it's much, much, much, much, much better.

Back home/Back to work. . .eventually.

NP: Michael Nyman - An Eye For Optical Theory

Submissions away (Friday/21).
Everything's Plums.





(Okay, so Miami sucks, but err. . .)

NP: Morphine - I Had My Chance

The Perfect Summation, If Any:

I had my chance and I let it go
I had my chance and I let it go
Well if I ever have myself another chance like that
I'm going to grab it and I won't look back
I'm going to grab it and I won't look back

Sometimes I'm too careful
I walk just like I'm carrying a handgreande
It's going tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick
Ticking ticking ticking in my hand
It's going tick tick tick tick ticking in my hand
Tick tick ticking in my hand

And if I ever have myself another chance like that
I'm going to grab it and I won't look back
Yeah if I ever have myself another chance like that
I'm going to grab it and I won't look back
I'm going to grab it and I won't look back

--Mark Sandman (Morphine)

NP: Greyboy - Panacea

No text required.

The Nike Ad -- Leave Nothing

'Roids or not, this ad is awesome:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6joglwxWuo


A) Michael Mann
B) "Last of the Mohicans"
C) Football





Updated with HD version.

"The Art"

My cinquain, "The Art," appears in the latest issue (Spring - #12) of Amaze: The Cinquain Journal; and I'm told it will also appear in their anthology. Check them out.

It Is Upon Us - Predictions

The season begins tomorrow night. 32 teams will vie for the Lombardi trophy. 1 team will win. And it won't be a team I really care for.


First, to get it out of the way, the Lions will suck. The way they've always sucked, but maybe with one or two more wins.


But so will the Dolphins, so who's to brag?

They may even win one extra game this year--hell, maybe even hit .500--but it ain't gonna be pretty.






Same for the 'skins.
A lot will ride on the fragile Portis.
A lot will ride on a Defense
that was just terrible last season.


They might win seven.
They might not.




FINALS PREDICTIONS:

AFC: Indy, New England, Baltimore, San Diego, Cincinnati,
Jets

NFC: Dallas, Chicago, New Orleans, Seattle, St. Louis, Philly


Indy and New England for the AFC championship.
Chicago and St. Louis for the NFC championship.

New England beats Indy; St. Louis squeaks by Chicago.
New England wins the Super Bowl.

I feel ill, but, unless Randy Moss throws a handful of tantrums, I'm sorry to say it looks to be.

Who knows, six months from now, maybe the Cardinals are having a parade through Phoenix.

Nahh...


photos courtesy MSNBC.com, supposedly.

The Greatest Two Months For Any Fan

College football started yesterday. Baseball's in its final stretch. Pro Football begins in a week. Nascar is winding down. For these next two months, every waking moment is like a fix. Who cares if the Royals, the Dolphins, the 'skins, the Hokies, the Tigers (Auburn), Smoke, Kahne and the Padres stink or don't? It's better when they don't, surely, but it's all about just being able to enjoy the spoils that come from the great battles we love.

It also doesn't hurt to be able to turn on the game of the week, sit down with a packet of poems or a story, and revise as they cut to commercial fifty million times. Which also reminds me of my looming submissions deadline coming up in the middle of the month.

Procrastination, over.


And Michigan's loss is the most comical thing ever.