hello, india!

K. Edwards 'back to me' --- fantastic lyrics.

I've got ways to make you sorry
start my life with someone else
I've got ways to make you fall
I'll tell you all the things that I lied about
I've got ways to make you mad
Laughing at the girl sitting on your lap
I've got ways to make you sing my songs
Ones I ain't written yet

I've got lights you've never seen
I've got moves I've never used
I've got ways to make you come
back to me

I've got ways to make you strange
Drug you up and drag you home
I've got ways to track you down
In all of the places you like to go
I've got ways to make you crazy
wear all the things you always wanted me to
I've got ways to make you run
My daddy is coming for you

I've got lights you've never seen
I've got moves I've never used
I've got ways to make you come
back to me

I've got ways to make you hear me
just by whispering your name
I've got ways to make you think
you'll never be happy again
I've got ways to make you see
I'm so much better than before
I've got ways to make you swear
you won't want your old life anymore

I've got lights you've never seen
I've got moves I've never used
I've got ways to make you come
Back to me

Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! How I wonder what you're at.

so, unbeknownst to me, there is this great alice in wonderland sculpturegym on the east side of central park. (my provincial dt/ws would, perhaps, explain that ignorance a bit...) that's nut of it.

anyway, last night, after fetching andrew after work and falling madly in love with this desperately fabulous orange jacket we were dilly-dallying our way home up the park, enjoying the splendid evening in the city, and he took me to this marvellous monument of youthful urban literati, and - be still, my beating heart! - i happily played like a four year old for a good twenty minutes. (ahem, so did he.)

how fun is this! a rabbit to kiss!

we also made a quite delcious coq au vin, but i need to ask emma why skipping steps two through six (or rather, ignoring them and reworking them differently due to the creative license reasonably brought on by the delicious vino nobile da montepulciano, where, of course, we should return and re-drink under that hazy tuscan sun) made no noticable effect on our little feast. although, it was a tiny bit too liquidy (well, very) but we decided next time that it's the perfect way to make a risotto to go-go with it. that'll work, right?

mmm. and delicious cheddar-chive-jack biscuits on the side. i'm going to enjoy a scrumptious lunch of leftovers oggi.

time has told me, and other songs: the tuesday afternoon playlist

Van Morrison - Avalon of the Heart
Lucinda Williams - Words
The Holmes Brothers - "(What’s So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love & Understanding?"
Patty Griffin - Heavenly Day
Taj Mahal - Corrina
Rosie Thomas - Much Farther To Go
Bob Dylan If You - See Her Say Hello
Brett Dennen - She’s Mine
Dean & Britta - Words You Used To Say
Andrew Bird - Fiery Crash
The Decemberists - Summersong
Nick Drake - Time Has Told Me
Meg Baird - The Waltz of the Tennis Players

i'm wide awake, it's morning

it's spring it's spring it's spring!!!

our loft is beautiful, my emma isn't getting pnuemonia, i am not either, and i'm waering a skirt... and i'm not chattering my toofs!

it's sprrrriiiiiiiiiiiiing!!!

now, granted, i'm in a severe missing-dixie phase. (why did i leave? what, job opportunity? ahhh. what kind of reason is that!) but tonight i'll make cheddar biscuits while andrew makes his coq au vin, and that will tide me over for the day; and yes yes yes it's lovely out.

more pictures of matthew when my father figures out how to use a camera.

i don't LIKE big. i like SMALL.

this is my I DON'T LIKE THIS. WHY DID YOU KILL MY EASY DINNER. face:


this is the face i will make later, when my roommate pledges to never have dinner with me again because someone takes a certain liberty in over-including:


it's only fair to point out that i am inexorably tied to her for more dinners than anybody else. and this, therefore, is a very troubled face.

night rocking - blumenthal

It could be the stars or the full moon
or your breathing beside me, or perhaps
it is merely the old, familiar hand of restlessness
leading me from the water, but something
shakes me from sleep this night
and, like an old widow who misses her husband,
I go to the living room and rock my way
to a vague remembering. Naked, a bottle of wine
in one hand, a hunger for clarity in the other,
I rock forward and back, the way I’ve seen
old sailors rocking in rest homes, the wind gone.
I take an account of the things in the room—
salt, pepper, books, an empty wine glass—
their terrible, relieving mundanity,
and I know that, as I sit here and rock,
my thighs clinging to the polished wood,
you are lying in bed, the shape of my body
pressed to the sheets the way a victim’s blood
holds the shape of an accident, and you are,
perhaps, dreaming of loving a man who is not
always leaving you, and I am a man rocking
who sees in the small movements of this chair
the comings and goings of tide, the departures
of the restless, and the constant returnings
of the infidel. And I go on rocking until,
finally, the bottle is empty, and I peel
my back from the chair, return to the bed
the way an old beach sleeper returns to the print
of his body in sand, and I sleep again,
knowing you will wake in the morning, stretch
your small hands toward me, forgiving me
as sand forgives the restlessness of tide,
as an old widow forgives the beatings of her dead husband.

and one more, for easter : )

great pictures from moo

barn doors are open

Yolanda Johnson: Duct tape will not make an honest man out of you.

linking is still the new post-it note

Emily Yoffe on Facebook: I got such a ping of pleasure when a connection was made that it occurred to me the Bush administration could stop violating the laws on national security letters and instead just send friend requests to terrorism suspects—how could they resist?


http://www.slate.com/id/2161920?nav=tap3

now, i think the best part of all of this is is that this article is the PERFECT example of exactly what slate does right. at the very end, yoffe says: But I will be interested to see if Facebook and sites of its ilk end up being a granfalloon, or a revolution.
pensive, beat-rejecting reader that i am, i thought to myself (rather humbly, if not embarassed), "um, what is a granfalloon?" and don't you know it, but that word is written in blue, the international color of hyperlinking peace, and... tada! i'm given straight to the wikisphere where a presumably reliable souce expounds for me on the nataure of granfallooness in my life.

i love the modern era

the end of blindness!

i cannot wait for the eighteen months to be over when our new office will be built and i, oh luxury!, will have a window.

Gulfs of Absence

Message Wierda:

loft/life partner:

i have been swallowed whole by a parade of upper east side prepsters. they drink gin and tonics year round and say things like "charming." my time in captivity has so far been draining, but today they let me out to go to the petstore so i could do model-drawings for rousseau the rat. i was not allowed to take a rat home with me, however. i was also encouraged to adapt my story to a feret, a more homey creature for these types i suppose, instead.

i said ra ra ra long live the rat! and bought a pair of brown chucks in defiance.

still, their entreat continues. i am worried the next pair of soles i purchase will be needole-point stubbs. and i will not where house shoes out in public.

captively yours,
raleighbeth.


Message Smith:
Dear Raleigh,

Despite your best efforts to distract me from my frustrations with a dose of witty prose and anecdotal jabs at UES club and culture normally so heedlessly disarming, i remain unfettered in my convictions. Upon arriving back at our house this morning to the 3 bottles of andre neglected and yet still so loyally standing salute in the refrigerator awaiting their certain mortal sacrifice i concluded that you, indeed, spent the night out again. Though i tried throughout the morning to keep my hostilities at bay and keep in perspective the very nice relationship you are embarking upon and how important it is for me to learn that as an adult, i must learn to share and compromise and cooperate with my fellow man. However, only hours later reading the paper in the living room without you, i was overtaken by my sadness and feeling of abandonment and in a fit of rage stormed down into your room and amassed a large pile of relics from your former inhabitance and burned them all outside in my little cigarette hovel.

unfortunately, this drastic and desperate attempt to unburden myself of my truly gripping grief stood to ultimately exacerbate my loneliness and longing because there, in the shadow of the flames so consuming your arts and crafts, thomas pink oxfords, hanna andersen longjohns, and ballet flats was the silhouette of your shining face. in that moment, i realized... i will love you always. perhaps as i get older and wiser, the grief will blossom into a celebration of your life and spirit, and i can look up and out in a northeasterly direction and feel that somewhere, in an overpriced bistro on madison, my little raleigh is looking up and thinking of me, too.

fingers crossed, active citizens

because i have to go to court tomorrow to explain why i can't be called for jury duty when i don't live here... wish me luckluckluck!

the current playlist - for rosemary

no cars go - arcade fire (neon bible version) because it's just so damn great.
goodnight and go - imogen heap i'm definitely partial to hide and seek (where are we? what the hell is going on?) but this is pretty. it's just sort of unabashedly girly like walking through the lulu guinness spot in the fragrance section of bloomies at christmastime. which is somehow annoying, and somehow also completely ethereal, unavoidable, bliss.
pictures - sia because everyone's a current to an ex.
head home - midlake this makes me think of fall. fall in dc, or late summer in dc, but not so much the miserable part as the shipwreck part. it makes me think of the old wednesdays and the malay place. and bug bites. and it makes me smile.
lake marie - john prine i love this song. i just love this song. i adore this song.
sons and daughters - the decemberists i agree, roz. about all of it : )
astral weeks - van morrison because i'm falling in love. and because we both adore vm. and jenzo, remember the lantern-bed-rigging in beantown?
at the bottom of everything - bright eyes ohhh i love the imagery in this song. "We must hang up in the belfry
where the bats and moonlight laugh"
daniella - john butler trio it's dani's themesong!!! minus "you got what i want, why don't you give it to me." only john butler trio is way cooler than stupid ray.
secret hour - birdie busch i'm girly. and i love this one.
bunny ain't no kind of rider - of montreal theme song
officer - kate earl highway 280 in afternoon traffic and trying to find a parking spot at the wal-mart. there are so few people who understand that in my current life. but this song is that moment.
she moves in secret ways - polly paulusma sort of like birdie busch, only it reminds me of d.c.
the well and the lighthouse - arcade fire loooooooooooooooooove it.
fidelity - regina spektor have you seen the you tube video??? such a great song. and duck and i don't launch into an argument about samson (we really have to look that stuff up) when we hear it. it's a great shower song too : )
soft and warm - voxtrot i LOVE vox. as you know. but i love this song as much as "the start of something" -- thanks to corn for that.
(songs for my) sugar spun sister - the stone roses sentimentality : )
last night i dreamt of mississippi - nicolai dunger because, really, last night i dreamt of mississippi. i listen to this on the subway when i'm feeling overwhelmed and suddenly some tourists from home trip on and you can tell they're from home not because they look lost, but because they look NICE. because the men simply WON'T sit down (because there are LADIES to sit down) and because the women are always done up. not tacky like riverchase done up, but pretty like mountain brook or buckhead done up. like kay. like linger longer road done up.
alfie - lily allen ohh i love this. dno't watch the video though. i can't get the flashing puppet out of my head.
travelin thru - dolly parton theme song.
neighborhood #1: tunnels - arcade fire theme theme theme very special theme song.

blogger is being weird

and i can't upload any images.
so, until then:

How to Tell If You're a Participant or a Staff (A Handy Guide for Day Programs)
by David Moreau from You Can Still Go to Hell and Other Truths About Being a Helping Professional

If you have a bowel movement at work and no one records it in a
communication book — you're a staff person.

If someone shouts at you from the other side of the room, Did you
wash your hands? every time you come out of the bathroom — you're a participant.

If your feet don't quite touch the ground when you're sitting in one of
the cafeteria chairs — you're a participant.

If you know where the candy is in Jolene's office — you're a staff
person.

If you can run out to Subway or Burger King for your lunch — you're a staff person.

If you're in a wheelchair — you're a participant.

If you get a buzz cut every staff day — you're a participant.

If you've never ridden in the back seat of the van — you're a staff
person.

If you can walk in the office without being asked, Where are you
supposed to be? — you're a staff person.

If the soap dispenser is on the side of the sink opposite your one good
hand and you can't reach high enough to keep the automatic faucet
from getting your sleeve wet — you're a participant.

If you can give a hug without someone telling you, Remember circles —
you're a staff person.

If you go out for cigarette breaks — you're a staff person.

If your paycheck is for $1.82 — you're a participant.

today's new glasses day!!! yipppy!!!

love some bananas

I love Columbia. This is the best example of what appears on our soc-gr-fac listserv:

Hi,

I made a mistake. I ordered like 15 kilos of bananas on freshdirect.
I get rid of them half the price of freshdirect. I m living across
Lehman Library (415 west 118th street apt 22). if you're interested
we can settle a meeting time.

Hope some of you love bananas.

best,

clement

Matthew Keller Smith...

... Finally a Matthew worth loving!
l
(ha)


And especially for my littlest brother:

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Welcome to the World, Baby Boy!

I have a new brother. He's not yet named (he was only just born) but he's healthy, happy, and apparently, really beautiful. (I looked like Baby Huey when I was born and my parents were honest about it, so I'm hedging my bets on Brother actuall being a beautiful baby.) He's pinky fair, jet black hair, and big blue Irish eyes... and my dad says he looks like Bumpy. (Maybe they'll name him Franklin.)

Baby Brother, we're so excited!!!

Daily Candy for Us Kids Who Know

(ohh arcade fire.)

dude, listen, coolest thing ever.

1. If you haven't checked out nextnewnetworks.com yet, you need to.
2. Particularly you weird comic bookies, although I'm repeatedly told (and yes! yes! i listen!) "it's not a comic book, it's a graphic novel."
3. If you read Thom's diatribe (and my rant) at the Sideways Initiative, you'll know our propensity for engaging in vibrant (ahem) discourse regarding Political Protest Sartorial Proclivities.

Now, you need to discover Threadbanger


My life may be complete.

International Women's Day - Call Your Mother, Pray for your Daughter, and Wonder Whatever Happened to Seneca Falls

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Maya Angelou

read Rosemary's posting

an open letter to legging-wearers of the world

please, please stop wearing bikini cuts underneath. i can see it. please, please stop wearing lacy anything underneath. i can see that, too.

pleaes, please stop wearing leggings. i see way more than i want to see, ever.

Mmmm Food

Country Grit Bread

1 cup plain white stone-ground cornmeal (not instant)

3/4 cup yellow self-rising cornbread mix

1 teaspoon sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/3 teaspoon baking soda

3 tablespoons sausage, bacon, country ham, or pork chop drippings (Crisco or half butter and half Crisco will work as substitutes)

1/4 cup plain white stone-ground grits

3/4 cup water

1 egg

1 cup buttermilk

Preheat oven to 475 degrees.

Sift white cornmeal, cornbread mix, sugar, salt and baking soda into a big mixing bowl. Add fat drippings to a cast-iron cornbread pan (or muffin or cornstick pan) and warm it on the stove. When drippings are melted, tilt pan so the sides and bottom are well greased. Then pour off and reserve two tablespoons of drippings.

Mix grits and water in a bowl and microwave on high for 3 minutes. Stop and stir and then microwave again on high for 3 minutes and set aside. The grits will be about half done, but that's OK. Whisk egg in a bowl. Then mix egg with buttermilk and add to the dry ingredients. Stir until the batter is well mixed but still a bit on the firm and dry side. Add the reserved pan drippings and grits. Mix all of the ingredients well with a large spoon. (If grits and water have cooled, reheat for 30 seconds before adding.) Your batter shouldn't be too dry or too wet, but somewhere in between.

Pour batter into pan and bake for 20 to 25 minutes. (Cornsticks take slightly less time.) Your grit bread is done when a nice, golden brown crust has formed. Now, all you need to do is get a big slab of butter and dig in!

Cooking Tip: Leftover grit bread makes mouthwatering fried cornbread. Just heat up a griddle or cast-iron pan and drop in a small bit of butter. Then fry up your leftover cornbread wedges until they are nice and golden brown.



Chow Chow

Makes about 8 pints

2 cups chopped sweet red peppers

2 cups chopped green peppers

4 cups chopped cabbage

2 cups chopped sweet onions

2 hot peppers, chopped

5 cucumbers, chopped

4 cups chopped, cored green tomatoes

3 tablespoons pickling salt

4 tablespoons mustard seed

2 tablespoons celery seed

1 cup sugar

2 cups vinegar

Chop up vegetables into a medium dice. Sprinkle with pickling salt; cover and refrigerate overnight. Lightly rinse veggies and drain well.

Put the remaining ingredients in a large pot, and bring to a boil. Add the vegetable mixture and cook for about 10 minutes. Pack into sterilized canning jars, leaving about 1/2-inch headspace. Remove any air bubbles. Wipe jar rims and seal at once according to canning manufacturer's directions. If you don't have any canning materials handy, you can store relish in an airtight glass container in the refrigerator for up to a month.


nobody's chow chow could ever be Full Moon's, though. Oh god. Full Moon. Ohhh.

Scooter's in the Reuters!

"here's the thing about jesus. you sit at the table with jesus, you start eating with the wrong people."

really interesting discussion on take this bread: a radical converson -- a smackdown on food, religion, agricultural, and community: saramiles.net

Did you know black american women are 20% more likely to get AIDS than white american women? And why don't we talk about domestic AIDS anymore? It's like it's stuck in Africa or something (Rosemary did a great AIDS series I will link in here, because you could readily subsitute "Alabama" for "Africa"). Rosemary's story: http://www.wbhm.org/News/2006/AIDS_The_Epidemic_in_Alabama.html

Atomic Melodrama

Happy New Arcade Fire Day!

David Fricke (Rolling Stone) didn't give it the best review, but historically, he and I don't always agree anyhow. Somehow, in his pathetic attempts at condemnation (I say pathetic since he couldn't outright say what he didn't like, he just danced around it, which I think is something of the point of Arcade Fire to begin with; do you remember when the EP came out and no one really said they didn't like it, but more critiqued it, and then it gained such a base that no one could even pan Haiti in Funeral, or worse, In the Backseat, which is really an awful song and someone should have just SAID so) but, he did say some things that I found not only appropriate, but actually kind of elegantly correct. Given what he's said about the references, I'm not sure he means it as a compliment, but given how I feel about them, I'm taking it as totally fabulous. and couldn't agree more.

"on Neon Bible, the reverb is so big and black that the beat becomes boom and the orchestral garnish, arranged by Chassagne and Final Fantasy's Owen Pallett, gets pressed to the margins. The result is a huge sound that only sparkles on the edges, leaving Butler alone in the middle, railing against rising tides, falling bombs and the nonstop rain of shit on television like he's singing from the pulpit of an empty cathedral.

Maybe that was the idea. Neon Bible is an aggressively gothic record, explicitly so in the pipe organ that soars over the hunger and wreckage in "Intervention." More intriguing are "Black Mirror" and "Black Wave/Bad Vibrations," which somehow combine the oppressive dread on Side Two of David Bowie's Low with the church-bells-in-the-rain reveille of U2's Boy. "Neon Bible" is even bleaker, a soft two-minute eulogy for a generation blinded by chain-store signs and laptop-computer glow. "A vial of hope and a vial of pain/In the light, they both looked the same," Butler sings through whispering cellos and child-angel harmonies, like Leonard Cohen wandering through the third Velvet Underground album.

But there is determined resistance here too, a twisted faith in escape that comes through best when Arcade Fire hit the gas pedal. " for full: http://www.rollingstone.com/reviews/album/13467688/review/13544415/neon_bible

Me, I'm partial to the well and the lighthouse. and the one about the King and the Queen. And (obviously) Keep the Car Running, which I've been bouncing around my lair too for so long it's actually started running through my dreams.

Today is hipster day, apparently. I even have the hat to prove it.

pix, trix.

Your Girlfriend's Picture Scares Me Like Ann Coulter Scares Us All

One of the weirder things that happens is when your ex's friends facebook you in current time. "Friends" qua friends might, to some, imply we actually know each other. Or, per se, that when we met, that one night where you were so gracefully spewing insults and Miller High Life in tune to an ACC basketball game, I actually might have thught, gee, you're charming. Or maybe even we might recognize each other on the street. Lacking these things, and also noting a dearth of certifiable basis to reject said friending, I bring my complaint to Chris Hughes and other useful youth scions of the digisphere, as it were:

There should be a new set of "How do you know this person?" options.

I suggest:
- I met this person at an east village bar I will always claim I've never been and you cannot prove otherwise because I spilled beer on the only camera that might prove it.
- I met __________ through an Former I despise and for whose incineration or sudden disappearance I wish for daily.
- By association I do/do not hope for ____________'s incineration/sudden disappearance.
- I really don't know ___________ at all, nor do I care to, but I do hope ___________ passes along to our ________ mutual aquaintance _____ that his girlfriend's facebook picture absolutely terrifies me. And I'm glad I'm not prone to facebook stalking. I'm not. It's just those bright colors and animal stripes cannot be hidden.

In the wealth of things that cannot be hidden, high in the rankings is one Ann Coulter, who for very obvious reasons cannot seem to find herself a nice, conservative mate because NO ONE, I repeat NO ONE can handle the idea of actually waking up next to that. Or worse, under?

At the Republican shindigs this weekend, Coultermort said:
“I was going to have a few comments on the other Democratic presidential candidate John Edwards, but it turns out you have to go into rehab if you use the word ‘faggot,’ so I — so kind of an impasse, can’t really talk about Edwards."
Oh yeah, she's so classy. I just love it when people listen to such smart people!!!

Sadly, the showing from the left was equally revolting.
Was anyone else besides me completely revolted by Obama and Hillary down in Selma? Who's the bigger black person, huh huh huh??? One's got the locals in the church and talking about the success of civil rights and how it's opened up the door for even her to run for president, and the other one's downtown talking about the Joshua Generation to a bunch of outertowners who wouldn't even know which way is UP at the local market!!!! A market that, by the way, doesn't take credit card or anything, but does take food stamps. Selma, Al is dirt poor, y'all. Civil Rights my left elbow. These two idiots essentially just pointed out, dressed in their Chanel and Armani best, that civil rights are what led their middle and upper class selves to private jets and posh parties in Washington while the people who actually marched in Selma on March 7, 1965, continue to live in abject poverty with absolutely no consolable hope out. Why aren't they talking to these people about social service? School accreditation? EMPLOYMENT, HEALTH CARE, JOB TRAINING, LOGGING (yeah, there's a big bad word for congress, I don't care what side you're on) and exactly how, when the parties in Washington are silly giddy selling off every possible acre of Black Belt (an agricultural term, y'all, it has to do with the ground) Alabama to the highest paper plant bidder around, they intend for the rural agrarian South to make any sort of living at all! And I hate to point out the obvious, you know, as the last two rainy elections did, but if you can't make any money, you can't afford to skip what little work you do get to go vote, or, more aptly, even have any transportational means of getting to that vote so it really doesn't matter who the bigger black person is, does it.

Despite my rantings, life is great. : )

Duck and I had the nicest, nicest, nicest trip to the shore this weekend, and I saw the beach and calmed down. Baby Brother hasn't yet decided to arrive, but I bought some cute new onesies for him when he does and am closer to done with his painting. : ) Yipppeeeeeeey

Three Delightful Things:

(1) For Thought
While We Wait for Spring
Todd Davis

The last three days snow has fallen.
No thaw this year, no day even above
twenty since the end of December.
Climbing the hill, my two boys slip, fall,
stand again. They complain, but there's nothing
to be done except to make it to the top
where above the trees we will look down
upon the river. Near the peak a barred owl
releases from the limb of a burr oak, sweeps
over our heads and out above the tree line.
Our eyes follow its flight to the river ice,
current moving beneath its blue surface.
Like the owl, our breath rises, drifts
toward something warmer, something better.

(2) For Laughs
How To Win Arguements, As It Were
by DAVE BARRY

I argue very well. Ask any of my remaining friends. I can win an argument on any topic, against any opponent. People know this, and steer clear of me at parties. Often, as a sign of their great respect, they don't even invite me. You too can win arguments. Simply follow these rules:


Drink Liquor.
Suppose you're at a party and some hotshot intellectual is expounding on the economy of Peru, a subject you know nothing about. If you're drinking some health-fanatic drink like grapefruit juice, you'll hang back, afraid to display your ignorance, while the hotshot enthralls your date. But if you drink several large martinis, you'll discover you have STRONG VIEWS about the Peruvian economy. You'll be a WEALTH of information. You'll argue forcefully, offering searing insights and possibly upsetting furniture. People will be impressed. Some may leave the room.


Make things up.
Suppose, in the Peruvian economy argument, you are trying to prove Peruvians are underpaid, a position you base solely on the fact that YOU are underpaid, and you're damned if you're going to let a bunch of Peruvians be better off. DON'T say: ``I think Peruvians are underpaid.'' Say: ``The average Peruvian's salary in 1981 dollars adjusted for the revised tax base is $1,452.81 per annum, which is $836.07 before the mean gross poverty level.''


NOTE: Always make up exact figures.
If an opponent asks you where you got your information, make THAT up, too. Say: ``This information comes from Dr. Hovel T. Moon's study for the Buford Commission published May 9, 1982. Didn't you read it?'' Say this in the same tone of voice you would use to say ``You left your soiled underwear in my bath house.''


Use meaningless but weightly-sounding words and phrases.

Memorize this list:

Let me put it this way
In terms of
Vis-a-vis
Per se
As it were
Qua
So to speak
You should also memorize some Latin abbreviations such as ``Q.E.D.,'' ``e.g.,'' and ``i.e.'' These are all short for ``I speak Latin, and you do not.''

Here's how to use these words and phrases. Suppose you want to say: ``Peruvians would like to order appetizers more often, but they don't have enough money.''

You never win arguments talking like that. But you WILL win if you say: ``Let me put it this way. In terms of appetizers vis-a-vis Peruvians qua Peruvians, they would like to order them more often, so to speak, but they do not have enough money per se, as it were. Q.E.D.''

Only a fool would challenge that statement.


Use snappy and irrelevant comebacks.
You need an arsenal of all-purpose irrelevant phrases to fire back at your opponents when they make valid points. The best are:


You're begging the question.
You're being defensive.
Don't compare apples and oranges.
What are your parameters?
This last one is especially valuable. Nobody, other than mathematicians, has the vaguest idea what ``parameters'' means.

Here's how to use your comebacks:


You say: ``As Abraham Lincoln said in 1873...''
Your opponent says: ``Lincoln died in 1865.''
You say: ``You're begging the question.''

OR

You say: ``Liberians, like most Asians...''
Your opponent says: ``Liberia is in Africa.''
You say: ``You're being defensive.''

Compare your opponent to Adolf Hitler.
This is your heavy artillery, for when your opponent is obviously right and you are spectacularly wrong. Bring Hitler up subtly. Say: ``That sounds suspiciously like something Adolf Hitler might say'' or ``You certainly do remind me of Adolf Hitler.''


So that's it: you now know how to out-argue anybody. Do not try to pull this on people who generally carry weapons.

(C) THE MIAMI HERALD


(3) For Tummies

This is the recipe I made last week for CJ's 23rd Birthday.... ohhhhh my tummy. So good. Although, I think next time I might substitute Fluff for Cream Cheese... although the CC frosting certainly cuts the sweetness. Also, I made the caramel sauce from scratch (brown sugar, evaporated milk, salt, water, and a watchful eye), which makes a huge difference. I think next time, though, I'm going to do this over brownies instead of cake.

Serves: 20
Preparation Time: 5 to 7 minutes
Baking Time: 35 to 38 minutes
Assembly Time: 10 minutes

Cake

Vegetable oil spray for misting the pan
1 package (18.25 ounces) plain devil's food cake mix
1 1/3 cups water
1/2 cup vegetable oil, such as canola, corn, safflower, soybean, or sunflower
3 large eggs

Topping

1 jar (8 ounces) caramel topping
1 can (14 ounces) sweetened condensed milk
4 Butterfinger candy bars (2.1 ounces each), crushed
1 container (12 ounces) frozen whipped topping, thawed
1 package (8 ounces) cream cheese, at room temperature

1. Place a rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly mist a 13- by 9-inch baking pan with vegetable oil spray. Set the pan aside.

2. Place the cake mix, water, oil, and eggs in a large mixing bowl. Blend with an electric mixer on low speed for 1 minute. Stop the machine and scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula. Increase the mixer speed to medium and beat 2 minutes more, scraping the sides down again if needed. The batter should look thick and well blended. Pour the batter into the prepared pan, smoothing out the top with the rubber spatula. Place the pan in the oven.

3. Bake the cake until it springs back when lightly pressed with your finger and just starts to pull away from the sides of the pan, 35 to 38 minutes. Remove the pan from the oven and place it on a wire rack. Immediately poke holes in the top of the cake with a drinking straw or chopstick.

4. Prepare the topping. Place the caramel topping and sweetened condensed milk in a small bowl and stir to combine. Spoon this mixture over the warm cake so that it can seep down into the holes. Measure out half of the crushed candy bars and sprinkle the pieces over the cake.

5. Place the whipped topping and cream cheese in a large mixing bowl and blend with an electric mixer on low speed until smooth and combined, 1 minute. Spread the mixture over the top of the candy. Sprinkle the remaining candy pieces on top.

6. Place the pan, uncovered, in the refrigerator to chill the cake for about 20 minutes before cutting it into squares and serving.