Home Depot is (still) not Venice

See Karin Gottshall's hilarious post here first.

Guidelines for Witches and Wizards: Tools

Performing magic requires the channeling of energy. For the most basic spells - slight glamours, spinning a coin, etc. - the magician's body serves as a reasonable conduit for this energy. The more powerful the spell, however, the more likely that the magic user needs a tool to act as a conductor.

The most basic item is a wand. These suffice for dueling purposes, moving a stubborn cow, or doing housework. Being fairly small and fragile, they cannot take too much magical pressure without snapping. Above a wand is a staff. Minor changes in weather, large explosions, and refacing a cliff are all reasonable tasks for a staff, as would be creating a double of a cow. The next jump in phallic wizarding tools (and let us not fool ourselves - wizards are always compensating for something) is an actual tower. With a properly designed tower, the enterprising witch or wizard can cause massive changes in local weather, ascend temporarily to the stars, or make all the milk in an entire village or small city go bad.

Of greatest power are circular objects, which, besides being yonic, produce a sort of feedback loop. Rings are popular items for being even smaller than wands, yet able to simulate a staff or even more. Flaggin the Bovinous was known to make entire herds of cows invisible and steal off with them in the night.

Magical energy can be conducted through another living subject in the form of a sacrifice. This is the basis for divination by entrails of a pig or cow, though it is considered far more ethical to simply use a (circular) mirror, crystal ball, or scrying pool.

The exception to the fragility of flesh comes in the form of the communal magic of various American Indian tribes. By collectively taking part in a dance or ceremony, the magical energy is dispersed throughout the group, and weather can be changed (which explains the lack of towers in North America). Experiments are underway to see if magical energy can be channeled through herd animals for greater effect, though the sudden and instantaneous death of hundreds of cattle has thus far proven to be a serious hurdle.

Guidelines for Witches and Wizards: Appearance

Contrary to what you may have seen in the movies, witches and wizards prefer to look old. Age equals knowledge, and knowledge equals power, and power above all else is what magic users find attractive. Larger ears and noses, gray hair, a gravelly voice: these are relatively simple things that wizards and witches use to make themselves look older than their years. Liver spots, being a two-dimensional glamour, are particularly popular with young magicians who haven't yet mastered the third dimension. This is not to say that they do not see the appeal in a shapely knight or lithe princess, merely that among themselves, aged is better.

This is also not to say that witches and wizards are prudes. Quite the opposite. What grand appeal does a young body hold when one can add extra arms or legs to a body? Or summon a fey who has spent the last three hundred years honing its ability to tickle? Or consider Alexandra of Thebes, who would sometimes turn herself into an electric eel and her lover into a pool of water. Your would-be bedroom athletes cannot hold a candle to the experiences a good magician can provide.

Neither wizards nor witches, however, are given to cuddling.

The applicability game

There's water on the Moon.

---

In related news, I just finished submitting manuscripts to the Bakeless and Yale Younger Series competitions.

---

In unrelated news, the feature at Stone Church was great.

---

In related-to-that news, no video or audio was recorded, which is probably for the best, given my inter-poem banter. I'm not sure that one family will ever be the same...

---

In unrelated news, my dad is on business in China for a few days. We're trying out Skype. I'm liking it so far, much better than telephones.

---

In related-to-China news, got a new Monsterpocalypse piece, Gakura:

Yes, that's a giant ape wielding a passenger train as a flail. I love this game.

The Legacy You Never Expect

So...

When I wrote El Oceano y La Serpiente / The Ocean and The Serpent, I was writing for people fifty years from now. I was trying to do something that hadn't been done and that, if it had gotten any serious press, would have caused people to redefine their conceptions of bilingual texts. Ambitious, a bit cocky, but remember that A) I was only 22-23 and B) really, you couldn't find facing, symmetrical texts in two languages that were not translations but antitheses. I've since seen something approaching that idea, but it's still unique. Any exceptions, please tell me about them.

Almost nobody knows about it.

I'm now writing diluvium, and I want it to last for at least fifty years. I definitely haven't seen anyone combine accessible and difficult and traditional and visual poetries in this way, and I'm actively searching. The closest I can get to what I'm doing visually is Lisa Jarnot's Some Other Kind of Mission, and that's straight-up difficult work.

I fear nobody will know about it.

Which brings me to a creation of mine that I devised in January 2006. A creation which still lives on in name and spirit, having spawned three or four or more message board threads containing literally thousands of posts. Not all of them directly relate to this creation, but the "old-timers" on the boards still talk of it.

I'm talking about Krede the Mighty.

In January 2006, Wizards of the Coast held a dragon-making contest. You, the readers and players, design a dragon. We'll take our x favorites and put them head to head, letting visitors to our website vote for the winner each week. Almost everybody was coming up with really complicated, high-level dragons that nonetheless didn't really spark. There was creation, but not much creativity.

So I decided to introduce a dragon who had been cursed into the form of a duck. I decided that he would always remain in character and, as per one of the grand rules of improv, always play along with what others were doing to him with one exception: he could never actually gain real "power." I determined that this was because the curse was not specifically to turn him into a duck, but to warp magic around him such that it took the most embarrassing form possible. Thus, an attempt to grow him to his normal size resulted in only his butt getting bigger (and launching a remix of Sir-Mix-A-Lot). When somebody happily played along with Krede, imprisoning him in a Forcecage, I began a series of faux-Civil-War-style missives, at which point even more players began writing to and about Krede, inventing factions and skullduggery in the upcoming contest. Someone went so far as to make an entire thread called Krede's Pond wherein the activities could be continued. Then that thread got too big, so we made Krede's Cafe. Then someone opened Krede's Tavern. Which was followed by similar threads (which invoked Krede by name). The Pond and Cafe have been lost to the recesses of the internet, I think, which is actually a pity.

All I'm saying is, it's entirely possible that more people know about Krede the Mighty than about my poetry. The later threads (from Cafe to Tavern and beyond) went hundreds of pages, with dozens of participants (myself participating less and less as others stepped up with interesting personae). There's a part of me that's really amused by that fact. There's a part of me that is telling my dissertation-writing self to just get a dayjob and write fantasy, because obviously I did something right. There's another part of me that's kind of sad. There's a part of me that realizes that Krede's postmodern sense of humor is already part of my poetry. And there's another part of me that just wants to lay the quack down on somebody.

I'll let you know when I decide.

A Wall

Since my last post advocated multiple points of entry into a book, I figured it made the most sense to put up a less-than-forthcoming freewrite (i.e. a wall):

growling & muzzled, grizzled & feckless
composed of right angles behaving obtusely
lie dreaming or convey simply falsehoods goldenlocks
nightblack in the fountain we drew on our intestines
jack ketch caught hell and headless drowned
decomposing Mozart flackjacketed sonatas
last notes for meal and missive the lines bid goodbye
guitar strings unstrung themselves & bestial lit the cosmos

Why the 1856 Leaves of Grass is a better value than Wii Fit Plus

Wii Fit Plus: 6 more yoga/strength exercises, 15 new minigames, for a total of 21 new items
Leaves of Grass: 20 more poems than 1855 edition, total number of new pages difficult to ascertain due to smaller size
Winner: Wii Fit Plus

Wii Fit Plus: Requires Nintendo Balance Board, which can be stowed neatly under a seat or leaned against a wall
Leaves of Grass: Fits in a large pocket, definitely in a purse, briefcase, or backpack
Winner: Leaves of Grass

Wii Fit Plus: Lets you imagine yourself Mario
Leaves of Grass: Lets you imagine yourself a kosmos
Winner: Leaves of Grass

Wii Fit Plus: Rowing, squats, downward dog, jackknife crunches, sun salutation, skateboarding, others
Leaves of Grass:

The swimmer naked in the swimming-bath, seen
as he swims through the transparent green-
shine, or lies with his face up, and rolls
silently in the heave of the water,
The bending forward and backward of rowers in
row-boats, the horseman in his saddle,
Girls, mothers, house-keepers, in all their per-
formances...
The young fellow hoeing corn, the sleigh-driver
guiding his six horses through the crowd,
The wrestle of wrestlers, two apprentice-boys,
quite grown, lusty, good-natured, native-born,
out on the vacant lot at sun-down, after work,
The coats and caps thrown down, the embrace of
love and resistance,
The upper-hold and under-hold, the hair rumpled
over and blinding the eyes;
The march of firemen in their own costumes, the
play of masculine muscle through clean-set-
ting trowsers and waist-straps...

Winner: Leaves of Grass

Wii Fit Plus: Allows you to create exercise routines of 20, 30, or even 60 minutes
Leaves of Grass: Contains poetic sequences which can take well over an hour to read
Winner: Tie

Wii Fit Plus: No jumping on the Balance Board. No sex. Ever.
Leaves of Grass: Jump in the grass. "Jump" in the grass. "Jump" the grass itself, if that's your thing.
Winner: Leaves of Grass

Overall winner: Leaves of Grass

It's heeeeeere

Mostly I've been working on diluvium over the past few days. Am feeling pretty good about a series of exchanges between Noah and his wife meant to question their identities. This is a conversation after they've gone through their rough patch and are reinventing themselves as both people and symbols. Among the questions they have to ask - would you love me were I someone else? A different color? A different sex? The answer here will be yes. I'm just trying to find words that are simultaneously poetic, clear, and convincing.

So the poetry is here. Still getting on the ark two by two (if only it were seven by seven), but here.

In the meantime, my guilty pleasure has arrived. Photos below linked from my profile at BoardGameGeek.


Cthugrosh consumes a fleeing S-Shinobi


Despite the combined efforts of three Carnidons, Gorghadra need only stomp once to lay them flat


Distracted by two Squix, Sky Sentinel doesn't notice Zor-Maxim sneaking up from behind


We do not welcome our Martian overlords

So the game is here.

Last but not least, Kate and I are starting to catch up on Fables. The war against the Empire has begun, though we haven't yet reached an issue centering on the war itself. In related news: Willingham's Cinderella kicks ass.

If I totally lost you at any or all points during this post, my apologies. It's all straight in my head. Really.

Let's Do the Time Warp (just once)

No, I'm not putting up an image of either Tim Curry or Anthony Stewart Head here.

No.

I see you waiting, about to open your mouth.

The answer is still no.

OK, moving on.

Hey, I said no. I meant no.

All right, I'm going to be out of town for a while. I'm teaching a workshop in performance at the Poetry Festival at Round Top (see sidebar). I leave Wednesday (tomorrow), will be on Texas A&M's campus during the day Thursday, and will be in Round Top Thursday night through Sunday afternoon. I return to Bryan to feature at Mic Check at Revolution Cafe Sunday night. I'm on a plane early Monday morning to return to New Hampshire via Boston.

I will write interesting stuff about the festival. I will take photos. These will be posted upon my return and backdated to their appropriate days and times. If you check this blog daily, however, you'll be out of luck for a little while. I will have my iPod Touch with me and thus the ability to check email, but there's no way I'm writing extended monologues/conversations on that thing (hint hint to Apple - give us a physical keyboard accessory).

Oh, and one more thing:

Do you want to play a game?

Greetings, Dr. Falken,

er, dear readers,

I like games. Actually, I'm fascinated by any situation in which people get together and behave irrationally within the boundaries of arbitrary rulesets. Soccer. Global Thermonuclear War. Starbucks. Poetry.

My wife and I also love playing board games. Not Monopoly or other largely-random games, but more strategic ones that involve an element of luck but place more emphasis on crafty play. Settlers of Catan. Citadels. Bohnanza. Ingenious. Scrabble.

There's one in particular that I've got my eye on lately, called Monsterpocalypse. From everything I've seen (positive and negative reviews, plus videos), it's a well-crafted set of rules meets pokemon collectibility (in the form of 3" miniatures) meets my inner child's love for Godzilla.









It's too expensive to go hog wild on purchases right now, but I'm expecting to order our first pieces in the next couple of days. With that on my mind, I wrote three haiku this morning. They'll mark my return to double-posting each day.

I wish I could end this post with another Wargames reference, but when it comes to poetry, to board games, to soccer, to Starbucks, (but not to Global Thermonuclear War), it's more fun to play.

The Inside of My Head

The first draft(s) of "Icarus the Young," the final text of which I posted yesterday.


Things are always moving in there. Sometimes loping, like a butterfly.


Sometimes I really have to grind away at an idea, like it's not even mine.

A Ravenous, Flatulent Eagle Steed

Kate and I relaxed the other morning with a simple breakfast and a round of Munchkin. For those of you not in the know and afraid to follow the link to a site called BoardGameGeek, Munchkin is a card game for two or more players that simultaneously encourages and parodies D&D-like behavior. You begin as a level 1 human with no class (pun intended) and proceed to flip over cards to progress through a dungeon (encountering such beasts as the Grassy Gnoll and the Wannabe Vampire), collecting magical items (like the Cheese Grater of Peace), and trying to achieve level 10. The trick is that players band together early on, helping each other out in exchange for a share of the treasure. In the mid- and late-game, however, everyone turns on everyone else, backstabbing, making fun, and generally wreaking good-natured havoc with as many puns as possible.

There are some blank cards in the deck, and Kate and I are slowly coming up with our own monsters, curses, items, etc for these. If you don't want to burn yourself out on geekiness, don't read any more of this post.

1. Awkward Relationship (modifier) One player and one monster recognize each other from...that one time at the tavern. Both exit the battle, leaving nothing behind (except broken hearts).

2. Reiner Knizia (monster - variable level: add up all bonuses due to items, then divide by the number of players) Bad stuff: The theme seems kind of tacked on. Lose your race and class.

3. Last Ditch (item - no value) Play this to prevent one character from winning the game. It even works against Divine Intervention (the cleric fell in and missed the Call).

4. Stacked Deck (item - 300gold) Usable by female players or sex-changed males only. While the chauvanist pigs around the table are ogling this card, look at the top three cards in the deck and keep one.

AWP Day 3

Summary: Bad panels, good arts.

---

The first bad panel was not the panel's fault. It was extremely relaxing, in fact, with quiet and contemplative (but not taxing) poetry being read. Problem is, a 9:00am session on the third day of AWP is very much sleepy time for those of us staying up late. Combine these two elements, and our heads drooped onto each other's shoulders from time to time. Dear Willis Barnstone - sorry! Not your fault! Enjoyed the translations immensely!

---

Insert time for writing/snoozing here.

---

Second panel was a sham. I overstate the case, but if you're going to bill the event as bad poetry by good poets, don't allow two panelists in a row to get up and say, "Well, there really was nothing bad by this poet, so let me talk about an early work and a later work." The whole point of the panel was to be gossipy and shocky and other words that end with -y (I've been watching too much Buffy lately). We demand satisfaction.

---

The Art Institute was wonderful. We ended up going in circles a few times, which was a bit weird. The third time we'd seen the same statue, we finally consulted a map. That being said, it's a good thing to swing by the same piece multiple times, viewing it in a new temporal context each time. Modern Wing was closed due to construction, but we spent a couple of hours taking in everything else at a relaxed pace. February is free for general admission. Go.

---

I'll upload photos of the snow sculptures on Michigan Ave later.

---

Nobody on the panel about Chicago Poetry Slams showed, so an impromptu open mic was held. Fun times for all.

---

The Afterhours Slam didn't go how I was told it would, which was (for economic reasons - i.e. a chance to sell chapbooks) disappointing. On the other hand, I got to see both Megan Thoma and Logen read during the open mic. That was wonderful (both had people come up to them afterwards, yay!). Instead of featuring, I slammed off against a young man named Riler who won the poetry slam on Thursday night. He won, and he was quite good. I'd like to hear/see his work again. I used my semi-improv piece "Christmas List" as my last poem, incorporating things that a bunch of the other poets had said during the open mic. I think one of the poets was really touched - he looked a little teary when he came up afterwards to thank me for incorporating his words.

---

More sketches from boring panels:

AWP Day 1 / Out of Sequence 2

The New England Review reading was great. The fiction writers in particular gave life to their selections, and the audience laughed. A lot. This is important.

---

Some panels, which will go unnamed, were not so good. This is a sketch of a bad panelist about to neuter the poetry s/he claims to love:



This is a sketch of a series of panelists so in love with themselves that their egoheadballoons begin floating up through the empty room.



---

Got to meet C. Dale Young and John Gallaher in person. Yay nonvirtuality!

---

Received an email from one of the high school students I performed for yesterday. He was too shy to raise his hand when I asked if there were any budding writers in the audience. He notes in his email that he's been trying to look at things differently, like looking at a tree stump and instead of thinking "a tree was there" thinking "a homeless man's stage." This kid gets it. I haven't responded yet, but I'm very excited.

---

Talked with my veryvery good friend Logen, who expressed disappointment on how fame works. Specifically, how the production of one good volume of poetry can get a poet "in" with a press, which then gives that poet seeming cart blanche for publication. Yes, we were oversimplifying a bit, but there's something about the sequence of publications that is disturbing. The work doesn't always improve. It often gets worse.

I added some comments about my performances at the high school yesterday and how changing the order of poems affects the reception of later ones. If I performed "Ma'am please put those jeans down" by Glenn Phillips (since I have it memorized, and it's rightly a crowd-pleaser) or "ADD TV," the kids would go crazy for anything else I did after that, even if I screwed up. Maybe the masses aren't quite so fickle as we think? To a/our fault?

---

Incredible Hulk Quandary Haiku

rippling suddenly
with verdant musculature
what would you do first?

---

I'm officially coining the term "nah-vant garde." So there.

$400

Yeah, I should have been witty with the last post title and called it "I'll take titties for $400" or something like that.

The link will take you to Hulu and SNL Celebrity Jeopardy that contains the phrase in question.

iPod shuffle game/survey

This game has been floating around for a while, apparently. I didn't join in when sixteen or thirty different friends all jumped on it in Facebook. But since I turned 29 yesterday, I feel the need to do something absolutely silly. Here's the deal:

Put your iPod on shuffle and press next song for each question. Put the song that pops up on the question.

That's it. I am now prepared to be embarrassed.

Shuffle iPod Survey

How am I feeling today? All in my Head (Marie Brown)
How do my friends see me? Pedestal (Portishead)
What is my best friend's theme song? Che cosa accade, signori miei? (from Il barbiere di Siviglia)
What is the story of my life? Track 19 (a blank track off Buddy Wakefield's album Run on Anything)
What is the best thing about me? Title Track (from Death Cab For Cutie's We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes)
What is today going to be like? A Martyr For My Love For You (The White Stripes)
What is in store for this week? One Last Vow (DeVotchKa)
What song describes my mom? Instinct Blues (The White Stripes)
What song describes my dad? Tomorrow (Death Cab For Cutie)
To describe my grandparents? How To Save A Life (The Fray)
How is my life going? Paradise (Vanessa Carlton)
What song will they play at my funeral? I Got Gone (Buddy Wakefield)
How does the world see me? We Looked Like Giants (Death Cab For Cutie)
Will I have a happy life? No Sunlight (Death Cab For Cutie)
What do my friends really think of me? Vienna (The Fray)
How can I make myself happy? Roads (Portishead)
What should I do with my life? Demon Seed (Nine Inch Nails)
What is some good advice for me? Evolution Revolution Love (Remix) (Tricky)
How will I be remembered? Reptile (Nine Inch Nails)
What is my signature dancing song? A Cure For Destiny (Stephen Sargent)
What is my current theme song? What Sarah Said (Death Cab For Cutie)
What does everyone else think my current theme song is? A Thousand Miles (Vanessa Carlton)

LIFE STORY:
Opening Credits: Evening At Lafitte's (Squirrel Nut Zippers)
Waking Up: Track 22 (another blank track off the Buddy Wakefield album)
First Day At School: How It Ends (DeVotchKa)
Falling In Love: People Ain't No Good (Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds)
Fight Song: If Yo' Shit Was Togetha' (Joaquin Zihuatanejo)
Breaking Up: Track 21 (yet another blank off Wakefield)
Prom: Just for Now (Imogen Heap)
Life's OK: Sour Times (Portishead)
Mental Breakdown: Thursday (Morphine)
Driving: Prelude to a Kiss (Duke Ellington)
Flashback: On The Alamo (Duke Ellington)
Getting Back Together: Suddenly I See (KT Tunstall)
Wedding: Come All You Weary (Thrice)
Birth of Child: Winter (Tori Amos)
Final Battle: In the Highways (off the O Brother, Where Art Thou soundtrack)
Death Scene: Ma bravi! Ma benone! (Il barbieri di Siviglia)
Funeral Song: Black Hair (Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds)
End Credits: Amputations (Death Cab For Cutie)


Huh. Some of those are actually pretty funny.

Got to Buy It, I've Got to Buy It

During the summer between my freshman and sophomore years in college, I interned at an advertising firm in Chicago. Cool job. My first task on my first day was to accompany my boss to a Toys 'R Us, where we purchased a bunch of Star Wars action figures. The firm in question was in charge of several major accounts, including Taco Bell, which at the time was doing tie-ins with Episode 1: The Phantom Menace (aka steaming pile of fanbase betrayal).

I learned a lot during that summer. Most importantly, I discovered that I was a writer who liked history, not a historian who liked to write. Other, less personally important discoveries:

-Sears likes to ask for innovation and then shoot down anything approaching it. "We want to do something different for Mother's Day next year." OK, how about we do a special mom-friendly event where anybody who comes in with a baby receives a free manicure or pedicure, bring in storytellers or magicians to entertain kids so that they don't bother her while shopping, do generational coupons that stack if mom and grandma come in together... "Wait, no, nevermind, let's just put on a sale. And emphasize how much everybody loves mom. Use words like 'Sears Loves Moms.' And maybe use ducks instead of flowers this time."

-Jim Beam started a campaign that was hilarious. It centered on being one of the guys. I was particularly fond of one copywriter's contribution: "They eat your food, sleep on your couch, and now they want your sister." It was silly, poking fun at what it meant to be a guy rather than trying to say "real men drink Jim Beam." I was sorely disappointed to see that same campaign, years later, taking a misogynistic turn (this example is from Australia, but I've seen similar stuff in magazine ads in the US). Sigh.

-The Blair Witch Project is actually scary as hell when you watch it on a bootleg VHS tape that somebody in the firm got from a friend who was involved with the project. In the theaters? Laughable. But popping in a scratchy version and sitting in your basement to view it? Totally in line with the artistic vision of the filmmakers.

-Fads are powerful. Everybody wanted a piece of Pokemon. Sears (though it ended up rejecting any good ideas we came up with). Various other retailers. Fast food joints. Pokemon pokemon pokemon. This should have happened even back then.

Bonus points for anybody who gets the reference in the title of this post.

Everybody Go Read This Now

I'm supposed to be on the final 1% of getting ready to move. Kate to New Hampshire, me to New Hampshire then back down here until the end of the semester.

Then I find Blotchmen.

Everybody, and by everybody I mean every single one of you even vaguely-geeky students of literature out there, go read it.

How to Use Irony, and Lots of It, in a Title

From blognigger.com: "Dyslexic Negro Cryptographer Lightly Etches Code Into McCain Volunteer's Face While She Remains Perfectly Still"...

---

In unrelated news, my dissertation proposal has moved one step closer to approval.

In related-to-that news, the dissertation itself is progressing nicely.

---

In news that is somehow related to something, head over to The Splinter Generation, where my poem "The garbage man will make it all all right" is one of the pieces representing my fractured 15-35 year old demographic.

The poem is dedicated to Nandra Perry. She popped into my office today to say that since the poem appeared in The Texas Observer, she's been getting contacted by people she hasn't heard from in years. Ironic poetry, bringing people together in totally random ways :-)

Dreams vs. TV: Which Says More About Me?

My dream last night (not incidentally, this is one of the most "normal" and least-frightening dreams I've ever had):

I'm teaching an Intro to Composition course in an auditorium-style room. Maybe a hundred students but still plenty of empty chairs. It's the first day of class, so I go through the syllabus, do a few theatrical flourishes to get them interested in sticking out the semester, and everything works. Students cheering and clapping. Then I look around and see a number of faculty from the English Department in the crowd. They're scowling. I realize that I haven't mixed the acid and water yet - there are 5 gallon jugs of hydrochloric acid and similar jugs of water over on the side of the room. So I'm standing there with a jug in each hand (apparently I was Superman in this dream) but am unable to remember whether you add the acid to the water or vice versa. This goes on for several very uncomfortable minutes, and then I wake up.

---

Five favorite TV shows:

1. Looney Tunes*
2. Monty Python's Flying Circus
3. Deadwood
4. Buffy the Vampire Slayer**
5. Battlestar Galactica (new version)***

*If Looney Tunes doesn't count as a show, per se, shift everything up and add Gilmore Girls in the number five spot.

**Can I squeak Angel into this same space?

***I reserve the right to change this based on what happens in the last half of the last season.