When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child...

...but when I turned thirty, I got a blogspot account.

Head over to my new blog, the hastily-named Critique Manqué for more! more! more of that avant-garde poetry content that you crave. Also, I may be keeping track of my attempt to reread Of Grammatology!

Also, I promise to talk about comic books (maybe Usagi Yojimbo sometime soon) and possibly even things other people care about, like movies and rock music and Twitter.
So You Need to Disarm a Chimpanzee

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"'All by Myself' is a power ballad written and performed by Eric Cartman in 1975."

So You Need to Disarm a Chimpanzee

A Founder speaks about the decline of American society.

Yeah, I'm calling to bitch about the banana farmers or some stupid s*%&, because I don't know if anyone else has any problems, but every time I go to peel a banana, it doesn't matter how ripe it is, whether it's green or it's spotty or whatever, but I can't get the damn stem, the uh, peel open, so by the time I get the banana open it's been reduced to baby food and it's just mush. So I don't know what the hell the problem is, but it didn't used to be that way when I was a kid, so somebody needs to do something about this.
-Thomas Jefferson

So You Need to Disarm a Chimpanzee

(no subject)

"Ironically," I've just realized that the best why to make yourself feel old is to think about dinosaurs. Why? Because I can remember when no one knew why dinosaurs went extinct. People thought it was the Ice Age or something. Now, they not only know it was a meteor, they even know where the damn crater is.

I can remember when Tyrannosaurus Rex was still depicted in the "living tripod" posture, and seeing it in the more accurate Roadrunner stance looked ridiculous.

I can remember when everyone thought dinosaurs were fuckin' cold-blooded lizards, and connecting them to birds sounded wacky. Now, the damn Velociraptors have feathers.

Basically, I guess what I'm saying is that Jurassic Park is a really old movie now.

So You Need to Disarm a Chimpanzee

Lost Memorial Day

Wander around campus, admire the holes they dig when the students leave, like cross-sectioned headquarters from old Marvel comics.

Street, power, sewer, earth. Imagine the same cross-sectioning of experience itself: skin, atoms, ideas, photons, neurons, abstractions, ghosts. Flesh?

This is my idea of materialism, spirituality without spirit. Because, as Douglas Mao will soon say, the seen is the unseen.