It's...

Filk Night at Silver Sea...


Prompts a series of bad quaotational puns aka "filk filk."

Such as the following:


"Why can't I get just one filk, why can't I get just one filk, guess it's got something to do with luck..."


"Why don't you take a flying filk at a rolling donut? Why don't you just take a flying filk at the mooooon?"


Till then,

I've a lovely Cthulhu Beatles parody up my sleeve for later and a bag of ice to purchase.


So you can all just filk off already.


Next major Silver Sea event to my knowledge will be Club Crawl. I'm in the process of recruiting some talent, god willing...

Required Viewing

Just watched "Rescue Me" with Denis Leary. Not at my own house, though, cause I don't have cable and it's on FX. Maybe I'll get cable again. It was deep and satiric and sad and dark and true. It was black comedy edged with tragic seriousness in the vein of Kurt Vonnegut or Douglas Coupland. And plus I kind of think Denis Leary is hot. Er, rather, Denis Leary is still hot, even though he's getting up there a bit. But we all know about me and those aging Irish guys...

Redundancy is...

Narcissistic vampires who wound themselves, then lick the blood...

monsoon

Still awaiting word from the outside world,but no one listens, there is not a soul around to hear...I am all you never wanted...there are rainbows, one god's promise that never was broken...rain like a weeping baptism, drenching my desert soul, I am a lizard shedding skins, I am a fallen saguaro riddled with bullet holes and the rodent burrowing inside it...drown me in a desert flood and let me die with some irony at least...I envy friends who say they want to die, I wish I wanted to die, life would be so much easier to take if I didn't have to love it back...

She is everything you never wanted

She is

blood black cherries in July

sticky and red and bitter pitted

abundant and bruised and green at the stem

too much sweetness in the swelter

she needs drying in the desert sun

or to be frozen

till winter comes

Bleed Me

I don't want to be loved
I just want someone to suck the poison out

http://www.members.cox.net/corbid/exponentialdetritus.html

Tarot Cards of the Day

Eight of Swords (Interference): Chagrin at the unforeseen consequences of prior decisions. Criticism, censure, and the imposition of external restrictions. Confusion leading to powerlessness. Inability to focus on the crux of a problem and free oneself from a difficult situation. Being hamstrung by a past failure or humiliation.



The Fool: Fearlessness, imagination, open-mindedness, and an adventurous spirit. Freedom from cares and worries. Ideas, thoughts, and impulses coming from a completely unexpected place. Nonchalance at the threshold of gaining all or losing all. Extravagance and intoxication with life. The pure and undifferentiated power of creation itself, where ultimate knowledge and oblivion are unified.



(detritus)(dream)(poetica)(myth)(opinion)(divination)

Work Is Zen

Typing in yet another series of product descriptions into yet another Microsoft program, I zen out and lose all context of what I'm typing as usual. For all intents and purposes I am just a monkey with a typewriter. But every once in a while this trancelike state causes me to look at things in unusual ways and the most benign things strike me as being hysterically funny. For instance, I type in "50 elastic hair bands" and suddenly picture a stage full of competing 80's hair metal bands dressed in lycra, crowded onto a stage and collapse into a fit of giggles. I suspect everyone here must think I'm a tad off my rocker. Not that there's anything wrong with that...Oh well, back to the grind.

http://www.members.cox.net/corbid/exponentialdetritus.html

Do you recall what was the deal the day the music died?

Feast Or Famine

As regards the onetime love of my life: either I'm the devil incarnate or I'm long suffering and beloved and misunderstood.Why can't we just try to be friends and try to agree on what's best for our kids and get on with our lives? Why does he always save his biggest tantrums for the weekend? Never mind. I'm pretty sure I know the answer to that one. I don't want to "win" or be always in the right or anything like that.I'd settle for having my input valued on occasion and maybe not being told what to do and how to do it all the time. I don't want much, just a tiny bit of privacy and a chance to go out on occasion (without being followed!) and some time to be a mommy to my girls without having to be a full time martyr. Sometimes he gives me money when I need it. I wish I could say no, because it's not support and it's not a loan. He's trying to buy me and when it doesn't always work I get punished. If tonight were any night but Saturday he wouldn't hate me, I guarantee you.And the total fucking irony there is that he gets so bitter and angry because he wants me back, but the uglier he behaves the less inclined I am to ever remotely consider it. For all the hurt I ever caused I never intentionally inflicted pain on the level he'll casually toss at me in a five minute telephone conversation on a Friday afternoon. I can't spend my life with someone capable of being that hateful no matter what the justification. That can't be a good thing for my girls to see. If they have to see that, then they also need to learn that the proper response to that kind of treatment is to walk away from it. So that's what I've done. I feel bad for him, but not so bad as to let myself be crucified just to soothe his bruised feelings. Fuck that. It's my first Saturday night free in three weeks. I think I'm going out tonight whether the dishes ever get finished or not. I think if someone didn't come in to inspect the cleanliness of my house all the time I might be less reluctant to clean it. I think I may have a dog that needs a new home: male labrador mix, three years old, very friendly, needs lots of energy that I just don't have right now.

Thought For The Day

Where do I get my humour and faith and strength as a human being? I think in all honesty it may be just the mental energy I save by never cleaning my house.

http://www.members.cox.net/corbid/exponentialdetritus.html

You say you want a revolution?

Information is power. And the internet is almost pure information.Think
about that a bit. Now think about it in a political context. And read the
following article:

From Alternet.org: The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

Selfish Bastards Unite

I think most people fail to realize one of the simplest concepts graspable, which is that we are all basically selfish bastards at heart, and that what makes us human is the process of overcoming that. It isn't really that nefarious a concept. It's simply basic biology and human nature. The hierarchy of needs and all that. We are born into this world with an instinctual urge to seek out shelter and food and comfort. Our basic mammalian instincts force us to seek out our own happiness. Humanity is the process by which allowing for the needs and concerns of others to become part of that process of taking care of ourselves as individuals. When the knowledge of the sruvival and happiness of those around us become a neccessary part of our individual well being. Love is the unnatural state in which another person's happiness can content you and when their pain becomes inextricably entwined with your own. The fact that any other human being can take the great and wondrous leap from a primary concern with self preservation to caring enough about another human being to empathize with or love or even hate them is rather a miracle in and of itself. The fact that there are people in our lives at all, regardless of how difficult they may be to make allowances for, is just kind of amazing. Perhaps we should appreciate that more. Count our blessings or whatever. Just a thought.

Corbid Waxing Philosophic on A Thrusday

Why my house looks like that...still...

When my kids are here it's too loud and chaotic to clean, but when they're gone I'm too lonely and depressed to do anything useful and I end up avoiding my responsibilities and trying to rope people into talking on the phone with me instead of working. Fuck it, I'm going to drink a couple of Fat Tires and go to bed way too early like a big loser and hope that the motivation faery visits me in the night...

"The last time I saw you was down at the Greek's, there was whiskey on Sunday and tears on her cheeks..."

Hang the DJ

The latest Corbidful mix CD consists of the following:

"Lisa Says" - The Velvet Underground
"Dirty Old Town" - The Pogues
"House On Fire" - Boomtown Rats
"Cupid's Got A Brand New Gun" - Michael Penn
"Speak My Language" - The Cure
"Oh Me" - Nirvana (Meat Puppets Cover)
"Unwashed and Somewhat Slightly Dazed" - Bowie
"Hey Jack Kerouac" - 10,000 Maniacs
"Father Lucifer" - Tori Amos
"Julie Anne" - Ben Folds Five
"Elephant's Graveyard" - Boomtown Rats
"Spare Ass Annie" William S Burroughs w/ Kurt Cobain

Not making this up at all...

Dreamt I was on trial for crimes of being human in a soulless world.

(detritus)(poetica)(myth)(opinion)(divination)

Coming soon!

Corbid.net

Tarot Cards Of The Day

Seven of Swords (Futility): An opportunity to withdraw from a hopeless situation and fight another day. Disengagement from a struggle you should never have been involved in. A desperate attempt to resolve a matter without conflict. The use of cleverness or outright deception to turn the tide in your favor.



Ace of Cups: The seed of a new relationship or spiritual journey - perhaps as yet unseen. An opportunity for joy, contentment, fertility, or enlightenment. Coming to understand the emotional needs of those around you. May represent an unexpected message, a chance meeting, or the start of a friendship or romance.

Thea Gilmore song ...

With some of the best lyrics that I have heard in ages...


Holding Your Hand

I'm gonna haunt you

I'm gonna haunt you

Through the playgrounds

Through the fires

You'll be saluting at the stars

And I'll be holding your hand


I'm gonna haunt you

I'm gonna haunt you

Out on the other side of luck

Where every business deal is struck

I'll be holding your hand


Yeah Yeah

I'll be holding your hand


I'm gonna haunt you

I'm gonna haunt you

In your ashes and your smoke

Like the punch line to a joke

I'll be holding your hand


I'm gonna haunt you

I'm gonna haunt you

On every knife edge

Every trip

And on every needle tip

I'll be holding your hand


Yeah yeah

I'll be holding your hand

Typical

So I met a guy at a party the other night and, not that I'm back in the dating

pool or anything yet, god forbid, but still I'm not dead. Anyway this guy

was cute and witty and interesting and just had sort of a general attractive

vibe to him, right? Had read the Sandman series, knew cool historical trivia, gave a fucking excellent neck massage if I do say so myself.Don't know what it was, I just really was intrigued. So

we converse a bit.Turns out he's in his early forties, lives in relative

poverty and admittedly has a depressive disorder. I didn't ask if he was

Irish. If he's Irish then that makes it official: I have a type: depressive

low income Irish American men in their early forties. I am predictable as

the tides. It's fucking tragic. And also it's a shame because I'm totally and unfairly ignoring the whole White Male Geek aged twenty five to thirty five crowd to whom I am apparently most desirable.

say the word

The words "I love you" are supposed to be a spontaneous and fleeting declaration yet somehow in today's society they have evolved into a question or a command or a tool with which to bully.

Sometimes thwy just mean what they mean in that second and that context for just that moment and it sucks that the big bad world has to go and suck the sweetness out of all tha just liek every other thing...

Aha!

Apparently I can taunt the cable modem into letting me online. I got halfway through setting up a dialup connection and viola, back in business. For now anyway.

Waitress, I'll have the usual...

...my heart on  a platter with a side of false promise and a garnish of unearned flattery. No beverage necessary, I'll just lick the blood from my wounds. For dessert, I think a nice thick slab of reheated silence topped with a spoonful of icy indifference. Yes, I think that'll be a "to go" order actually. These days I pretty much dine alone.

Covert Work Post to my loyal followers

I'm not dead, I swear.
But I've been offline at home now for 6 days and counting (minus about five minutes on Saturday.)
And I'm not supposed to be posting from work, so.
See ya when I see ya?
Thank you for your patience.

The Corbidful One.

http://www.members.cox.net/corbid/exponentialdetritus.html

Self portrait in charcoal grey except that I can't draw to save my life

Saturday 7:00 am she wakes.
No energy and the weight on her shoulders of too much too late.
She'll never catch up with life in a million years now.
Might as well just fucking give up. Heats up the skillet.
Looks for the package of potatoes, finds she left it out in the night.
Weighs the odds of eating them anyway, but chickens out and dumps them in the garbage. What the fuck's she gonna eat now? There's a tiny bit of shrimp cocktail left from the other night. Breakfast of champions. The dog starts whining for it. The dog whines like a fucking hyena sometimes. You'd think he was dying. He's just been fed and everything. Babies are still sleeping at least, thank god. Fucking internet's out again like it is practically every Saturday. Tries to call the one friend she knows will be awake but the damned ringer is off as always. Everyone else will be sleeping. She has to have caffeine. She wishes she could just have whiskey instead, but makes a coffeepot full of strong black tea. There's a pain low in her back from cramps and from sitting oddly and from sleeping at the foot of the bed again. Curls up in the corner with a Vonnegut book that her ex said she'd hate but which she doesn't. Puts on a Bowie/Eno compilation to complete the dissociative experience. It's almost time to get out the spoken word William Burroughs even. It's a cynical surreal disjointed sort of morning. Somehow she's got to buck it up today. Pay some bills. Do some laundry. Start digging her way out of this apathetic dusty smelly mess. Has to be real again. Has to be real again. She hasn't been real in about a week now. Forgets how she managed this the last time. Somewhere there's something that'll lift this grey. Someone somewhere knows the magic word or maybe there's a bit of music that'll do it or something on the television. Can't find the fucking remote and it's been ages since she watched television. It's July and the fucking mosquitos are back and she's itching like mad. Covered in mystery bruises as usual. Sallow skin, dark circles around pretty eyes, ugly little feet with calloused little heels, sitting there in her purple faery t-shirt wishing anyone in the world thought she were remotely important at this instant, not that she'd believe it if they said so. It's probably just the hormones talking. Tomorrow, she'll be an egoist once more. Today she is wretched and sad and lacking in energy and full of words that no one wants to hear. And nobody loves you when you don't love yourself, they say. And she just fucking loathes herself right now. For being weak and beaing helpless and feeling sorry for herself instead of just getting up and fixing it and because no one needs her. She's merely an interesting afterthought. A footnote. Best supporting actress in the movie version of everyone else's life.And everything irritates her right now. And she wish the sun weren't up right now. The cooler's too cold, but if she turns it off it's too warm. And isn't that the story of her life? She's tired but she can't go back to sleep and sometimes dying sounds nice just for the rest that that involves although she'd never do it in a million years. She could sleep for a million years if only she could sleep at all. She could scream for a million years but no one would ever hear it.No one's listening. No one's home. Go back to bed, little girl. We'll tell you when you're needed. It isn't now. It's never now. You're a lifetime benchwarmer is what you are. You're fucking royalty, all the same. You're Princess Afterthought,. Queen of things that people shove into desk drawers and forget about and books they mean to lend you but never get around to and invitations that get lost in the mail. Goddess of apathy and indecision and three quarters of a job well done. And now the babies are up and it's time to smile and yawn and pretend you're trying. Pour the cereal, turn on the cartoons, go into autopilot, because sometimes love is robotic motions when you'd rather not move at all. And so it goes. Thank you and good night.