lizards on toast :: feed :: all

Here’s an old picture:

That’s me, defending your freedom. :]

2008-08-27 16:07:42 old text and photos

.  I was looking through my backups and noticed the really huge gap between the last time I posted a blog entry and the last one I actually /wrote/.  I’m not sure why I haven’t been posting stuff.  It’s not that I haven’t been collecting ideas or even writing, just haven’t been posting, exactly. I’m tired of feeling like I’ve been censoring myself. I’ll start posting again soon. I suppose I’ll just add it to the list of stuff I should really get around to doing; like going through my things and throwing away junk that I really don’t need. (Thanks, mum, for these packrat tendencies.)

.  I’ve really enjoyed using my DSLR.  I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed photography until recently.  I just need to get a decent telephoto lens for the next time we go out to the beach.  I love my 50mm, but it makes it hard to get that awesome shot of the bald eagle by the water. ;

.  On that note, I suppose I should go ahead and edit/post all the photos I’ve been taking recently.  I guess I’ll end this and go get started on that.

out.

.  I made some changes here a couple weeks ago;  You have to be logged in to see any posts I have tagged as “personal”.  Not like I ever post anything really personal, but some people at work are annoying.  So there you are.

.  Also, there’s a weird display bug if you’re using IE: it has the tagline twice (Quasi-random drivel for the post-modern sponge).  I have no idea why it does it, because it doesn’t even show up when you view source.  Oh well.  Don’t use IE, two people who actually read this.

2007-01-06 22:49:41Momofuku Ando, the creator of instant ramen and cup o’ noodles died today at the age of 96.http://www.japantoday.com/jp/news/395279

2007-01-06 00:11:20

Excerpt from “Here, Bullet,” a book of poetry written by Sgt. Brian Turner, 3rd Stryker Brigade Combat Team, while he was serving in Iraq:

Here, Bullet
If a body is what you want,
then here is bone and gristle and flesh.
Here is the clavicle-snapped wish,
the aorta’s opened valves, the leap
thought makes at the synaptic gap.
Here is the adrenaline rush you crave,
that inexorable flight, that insane puncture
into heat and blood. And I dare you to finish
what you’ve started. Because here, Bullet,
here is where I complete the word you bring
hissing through the air, here is where I moan
the barrel’s cold esophagus, triggering
my tongue’s explosives for the rifling I have
inside of me, each twist of the round
spun deeper, because here, Bullet,
here is where the world ends, every time.

© 2005 by Brian Turner (Alice James Books, Farmington, Maine)