Monday, October 27, 2008

michael collins.

very underrated soundtrack.

can i meet a woman who can sing like sinead o' connor?

what i've been up to.

jose alfonso


the original four yorkshiremen.


another version i like.


star trek meets monty python


also interesting: the deleted scenes from robin hood prince of thieves. alan rickman truly speaks the best english on the planet.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Favorite Books

My two favorite books that I've read in the last decade:
Blood Meridian
A River Runs Through It


It just struck me that both books tackle the idea that 'Man is a damn mess' but do so very differently.

Monday, October 6, 2008

Into this life we're born

His origins are become remote as his destiny and not again in all the world's turning will there be terrains so wild and barbarous to try whether his own heart is not another kind of clay


Spectre horsemen, pale with dust, anonymous in the crenellated heat. Above all else they appeared wholly at venture, of the absolute rock and set nameless and at no remove from their own loomings to wander ravenous and doomed and mute as gorgons shambling the brutal wastes of Gondwanaland in times before nomenclature was and each was all.


Perhaps I too should buy a typewriter and disappear for years into motel rooms and desolation.

Two wild mules stamped testingly at the canyon rim and backed and fitted, their soft split forepads of hooves cracked and flaying under them as they scratched against the red-painted clifftops through the sand, peering over the rim for some sign of greenery to make sense of that abyss. One whinnied and reared at the staccato foreign sound chattering up out of the canyon, then whistling, then wailing, and the two animals backed away and plodded on as they had come, disappearing with the heat of the day driving them back downward along some rivulet or tributary of the river’s canyons through that bleak and predator-less sandscape which held only the twin fears of rattlesnakes and starvation for them. They followed forever a maze of antelope trails ascending and descending that terrain with a rhythm and direction whose migratory sense they could not fathom unto death.