Anyone?

Anyone ever read or hear of Hubert Selby, Jr.? He wrote "Last Exit to Brooklyn" and "Requiem for a Dream" and others.

I just by chance got a documentary on him and found him so dark but at the same time down-to-earth inspiring.

Whatever. I was going to quote his stuff, but figured it would offend my sensitive readers - ha! Look him up yourself. He seems to have had an authentic life.

Uncle Walt

I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to you,
And you must not be abased to the other.

Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat,

Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best,

Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.

I mind how we lay in June such a transparent summer morning,

You settled your head athwart my hips and gently turned over upon me,

And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my barestript heart,

And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet.

Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the argument of the earth,

And I know that the hand of God is the eldest brother of my own,

And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers,

And that a kelson of the creation is love,

And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields,

And brown ants in the little wells beneath them,

And mossy scabs of the worm fence, heap'd stones, elder, mullein and pokeweed.

Live ya Life, Son!

HA

http://www.arktimes.com/blogs/arkansasblog/2008/09/way_to_go_matie.aspx

This Weekend...

...you can find me here.

http://www.bristolrhythm.com/

It's Even Raining

Cara, a friend who has been living upstairs for the last three months, has decided to leave today. She flies up to Brooklyn this afternoon after a long battle with Bristol. Survivors included significant other Israel Hill, BFF Beth Hill, brother Aaron Hill, crying man Leon, a slew of chickens, cats, and a dog Amos.

I wish there were enough megabytes and tetrapixels in cyberspace to describe the life we had with Cara. There is not enough. It would be a waste of effort to even try. The virtual economy she loved so much cannot even support the love her "real life friends" want to show her. Such is life, my friends. Such. Is. Life.

Bob Dylan put it best: "It was gravity which pulled us down and destiny which broke us apart."

I wish that I was savvy enough to write a song about her leaving, but I'm not. Fortunately, my friend Alison has the words for this moment.

Seriously, you will be missed. I know it will feel like a member of the family has gone missing. Now try to keep a dry eye while watching this video montage I put together!

Dream House

One

This man is completing his first year today.

He begins his second year first thing tomorrow.

Maybe...

...the Dharma is the best way to practice Christianity.

Pack your bags

I'm afraid we've made one too many visits to Asheville.

A couple of weeks ago, we decided to check out Belle Cher - the grandest arts/crafts/music festival of them all. It was huge. There were so many different people out there. Israel kept pointing out the future versions of Beth and I (ratty old hippies with three or four kids all clothed in homemade clothes). Art and artist were the norm. If you had to put Ashevillites in a box, it would have to be a big box.

Beth and I just feel like we belong much better in Asheville than in Bristol. There's nothing wrong with Bristol. It's just that our experience is we run into more people of like mind in Asheville than around here.

So seeing how some of our best friends in the world are moving from Gainesville to Asheville within the next year, we're going to pack it up too. The house is going on the market in a week or so, we're putting on our moving hats, and we're going to head that way.

Our plan/dream is to buy property outside of Asheville (Marshall?) and live in some sort of modular/yurt while we build a little farm. If we're lucky enough, we'll be doing this with our buddies from Gainesville.

So let it be written, so let it be done.

Ugh

Paul Auster

This genius did not give me a minute's rest this weekend.

W

"I, George W. Bush, am the 43rd puppet of the United States."

Face it.

Everyone needs a Tim Gunn.

So let it be written...

I've Got the Harlequins



Therefore shall evil come upon thee; thou shalt not know from whence it riseth: and mischief shall fall upon thee; thou shalt not be able to put it off: and desolation shall come upon thee suddenly, which thou shalt not know. And it shall come to pass at the hands of garlic and hot peppers.

Time to Learn This

Control is something you do with an object. Control of people is a fallacy; you may think you have it, but deep down it breeds rebellion.

The Slowest Game of Tag

Feet five feet off the floor, I'm watching a plump couple shop for used office furniture.

Their faces are completely disinterested. They could be looking through someone's collection of tax papers. Used office furniture demands very little from any of us.

The woman lets her hand glide across each desk. The man appears to be reaching his goal of visiting every piece in the warehouse.

I imagine them to be playing the slowest game of tag possible. She'll never catch him.

This must be what it looks like to shop for caskets. Old wood and a decision for which you can't muster enough enthusiasm.

Then I remembered someone told me today they were told I believe everything I'm told. My feet are back five feet in the air, hanging light fixtures.

- David Berman

I Want EFX

No one has ever said it better:

Too Costly of a Trip

Most of you know Israel and I were trekking up Poor Valley, VA this weekend. I had planned the four day excursion months ago. It was a hike along the back roads that would take us to Burkes Garden, just Israel, Buck, and me.

First day beat us to death. 20 miles and 35 lbs on our backs, so we just set up tent along the road with the permission of an old Mr. Rickman.

The next morning, Buck was whining to get out and take a leak, so I let him out. Next thing I knew, a car came flying by and I heard a loud thud and then Buck barking at the car. I called for him and he didn't come, so I got out and saw him lying in the road, panting.

He had been hit hard, but was still breathing. I looked him over, talked to him a bit, and hoped he would show signs of just a broken leg or something, but the more I checked him out the more it was evident he was at least paralyzed and had internal bleeding.

His breaths became very labored and it didn't take long for him to show signs of being in serious pain, so we dug a grave and borrowed Mr. Rickman's .22 rifle. We laid him the grave and I told him he was a good dog. Israel did the difficult deed.

We were both bruised and beaten, and I didn't have it in me to go on, so we ended the trip there in Allison's Gap, perhaps to pick it up again some other day.

Buck remains there by the creek, and you wouldn't believe the hole he has left in my life.

The Life of A Young Poet

My youngest sister Abigail is eleven this year, and she just so happens to be the owner/writer at "Abigail's Pick-Your-Own Poems". The nice thing about this poem shop is that you don't have to find a poem to fit your need. Abigail will write a poem for any imaginable topic you choose.

For example, one of my first orders I placed was for a poem on the topic of "Bob Dylan". This is what my 50 cents bought me:

Bob Dylan is strange.
In fact, he is very strange.
I would even say
he's in the weirdo range.

After her and I had a conversation about beheading last week, I placed another order and once again it really paid off. I will type it as written.

"Beheading"
by: Abigail Hill

Here I go to the beheading
room, here awaits me death
and doom.

Here it comes, shines like
Ice, here's my head, ready
to slice.

Oh! It hurts! Oh! the pain,
like running your fingers
through a tangly mane

I have my few seconds
to look around, I have my
few seconds, to hear
my last sound

(Please flip 4 last stanza)

But good thing I'm a
Christian, cause I'll live
forever. I'll never go again
to that deadly old room,
no never.

Thank you for your business!
-----------

Contact me for Abigail's phone number and you can Pick-Your-Own too.

Genius

Pastor Roger Byrd said that he just wanted to get people thinking. So last Thursday, he put a new message on the sign at the Jonesville Church of God. Byrd said that the message wasn't meant to be racial or political."It's simply to cause people to realize and to see what possibly could happen if we were to get someone in there that does not believe in Jesus Christ," he said.

The message has been changed because of public outcry to: "Roger Byrd, Brains of Turd, Humm, Are They Brothers?"

The Queen

I knew I wouldn't get far into blogging until I started bragging about my hero. If you know me, you know I like the music. And if you've heard my music, you know it consists mainly of these beauties:



If this video alone doesn't explain why I believe this true grit of a girl is probably the most influential woman on the planet, let me lay down this little story for you:

We found out that Dolly has a program where she'll send a book to your child every month for free. Free books from the Dolly Partons. So I called in to find out how to sign Leon up for it and guess who answered the phone?

Dolly. No joke.

I thought it was a joke at first, but she assured me it was her and that she takes calls from time to time in between primpin'. (Such sass!) So here's the deal straight from the horses mouth. Dolly says she is sending Leon a free book every month until he graduates high school. I asked her the obvious question and she said that if he doesn't graduate he'll get the books for the rest of his life. It really is a win-win in Dolly's world!

Sign up your child or high school drop out today!

A complete recap of the last 30 years

So there's these two crazy bloggers living with me now and they've really turned me on to the idea of keeping a detailed account of my life on the internet for all to see. It's really working for them. I've tried this before, but that was before my life got so amazing. In fact, my life is so amazing I may have to start another blog for the overspill of the incredible things that happen to me in the span of a day. Prepare your hearts and minds. Every eye closed, and every head bowed.

Just to catch everyone up, Beth and I have somehow created another human we have named "Leon". We named him after Leon Hendrix (the great Jimi's brother). This little human has changed our lives completely (like his namesake). He has just started talking, but it is all either French or Portuguese, so we can't understand a word of it. I suspect it is mostly friendly talk.

We live in the great unexplored state of Tennessee, and are mostly enjoying it here. We run a little "Urban Homestead" right near downtown. We have chickens, a rooster, goats, a dog, a cat, several fish, an emu, and have spotted some snakes. We're fairly serious gardeners, and this year plan on eating only from the garden, except for meat, which according to last years experiments will not grow in a garden no matter how much you water it.

For those who met us through "church circles", it will embarrass you to know we have completely given up on that whole scene. Instead we now follow a little daily calendar we found at the flea market that gives us guidance for everyday of our lives. Today's guidance: "If you're not soaring with the eagles, then you're on the ground with the turkeys."

We have chosen to soar.