I haven’t written on this site in over half a year. God and maybe Borges only know how many words I’ve written in that time, but none here. There’s been a lot of silence and confusion and pain and joy that, combined and viewed from afar, look a lot like life.
I don’t stop writing because there’s nothing to say. Usually it’s that there’s too much to say, and I generally feel overwhelmed from talking. Pro’ly nobody who knows me would suspect that, but it’s true. I like to gather my thoughts slowly and work them out carefully before I release them. The plus to typing my thoughts is it gets me out of that shell; it artificially inclines me to say more things. The minus is the longer I’m in a writing rhythm, a prestissimo, the more I I start trying to force myself into maintaining that thinking speed, to keep up. But my adagio brain doesn’t like that after a while, so I can only outrun the silence of myself for so long, for wherever I run, there I am.
Gonna try to write more now. That’ll probably mean shorter stuff, at least for a while. Got anything you want to see done on this site? Let me know. What’s new with you?
I’ve been sick with a weird flu for days. A few people close to me have it, too. It flares up, then seems to fade away, only to return with a vengeance. You know those sand-bottom clown toys kids have? You knock them over but they always bounce back?
That’s this flu.
Speaking of relentless pain, a few thoughts on season six of The Walking Dead. A lotta people were disappointed in the recent direction of TWD. Count me among them, for the following reasons: Continue reading
In which I recap the Knicks’ latest nightmare loss, quote from the Book of Revelation, and muse on the relative rarity of one of my favorite adverbs.
In which I discuss the Knick hero’s tribute from his Latvian hometown, educate on the superhuman qualities of the Liepājan people, and implore New Yorkers to do their part to flatter Kristaps Porzingis, lest we lose this intercontinental version of Kramer vs. Kramer.
Late last Thursday as I was wrapping up my final class of the day, I felt myself growing inexplicably irritated. At first I thought my annoyance was because of a particular student, but the more I thought about it the less that made sense; the student, though annoying in general, hadn’t done anything to provoke the intensity of feeling I detected. The next morning I woke up and still felt off. Eventually I realized I had a headache, an epiphany I greeted with a sense of relief. Yes, my head hurt. But at least I had understanding. Oh. That’s why I’m in a bad mood. Okay. Now I get it.
That was nine days ago. The migraine has not gone away. It’s getting worse. Continue reading
I’ve posted 200 blogs here over two years, covering subjects from dating to basketball to book reviews to death to asshole ex-landlords to 9/11 to plagiarism to North Carolina. Good times.
One thing I haven’t done is a mailbag of viewer questions and prompts. So I’m opening it up to any and all readers. Is there something you’d like to see addressed? If you know me, maybe there’s a story you’d like to see immortalized in a blog piece. If you don’t know me, maybe there’s something you’ve wondered but never asked. Well, here’s your chance. You have total diplomatic immunity. Take advantage! However you ended up here – Twitter; LinkedIn; bluesofnine; warp zone; tesseract; rabbit hole; the red pill – give me a shout in the comments below and let me know. That rhymed.
My first 34 years of life, not many people I knew – like, really knew – ever died. Only a few, spread out over time. This weekend, a good friend passed away. He’s the sixth person I know in two years who’s now gone. I made music with the first. Partied in college with the second. Laughed a lot with the third. Survived high school with the fourth. Shared blood with the fifth. Shared creative writing and futbol with the sixth.
If you’re reading this and we’re friends, you may want to consider breaking things off with me.
This week, at both colleges where I teach, someone posted flyers advertising for a paper-writing service. They marketed themselves as a “current Master’s student.” I was struck by the seeming audacity and doublethink of this. So I called the ad, pretended to be a student, and set up a meeting. I wanted to find out how someone in academia came to the conclusion that writing papers for others is kosher. I also wanted to hear from students about their feelings regarding plagiarism. Check it the story over at the Stony Brook Writing & Rhetoric blog.
In case you have a life, you may not have noticed the Knicks have 4 wins and 18 losses, including their last eight. The fallout’s been predictable: fans are questioning rookie coach Derek Fisher and rookie president/guru Phil Jackson. Haters be hating. Faith be faltering. But that’s the thing with faith: it’s when you really question it that it shines through. So in honor of Martin Luther’s 95 Theses, I wrote a 95 Theses for keeping the faith in the Knicks’ rebuilding effort. Check it out at Posting & Toasting.
In addition to bluesofnine here and my fabulous-yet-neglected-classic-middle-child sports blog Page 2 Sports, I’ve added another ingredient to my blog stew: Stony Brook University’s Program in Writing and Rhetoric blog. I posted my first blog there tonight, about how the evolution of a group I founded with two students last year combining English-speaking natives and non-native speakers has benefited the students who attend the meetings and benefited me as a professor by its influence on my classroom lessons. If fluency excites you, this blog post’s for you.