Lit blog

Sabina_Tolchovsky said:
there is a thirty year old glenmoragie that I lust for...(oh someday you will be mine)
I will explore the bowmore a bit more as well, I drink it just a drop of rainwater to open the flavor. Admittedly it is an aquired taste, two years ago I could not drink it that way but my range has evolved.


all scotch requires a splash, to do just that.
I love the peaty stuff, Laphroig, Lagavulin
Oban was pretty good too as I recall.

Highland Park is good if you want a change
lots of honey overtones in that one.
 
Class in a bottle

Tathagata said:
all scotch requires a splash, to do just that.
I love the peaty stuff, Laphroig, Lagavulin
Oban was pretty good too as I recall.

Highland Park is good if you want a change
lots of honey overtones in that one.


It sounds like you know your finer scotches. I admire a man who
has control over beautiful things. Me? I got sick off a pint of Chivas
Regal (?) in the late 60's, never went back. :(
 
Tathagata said:
all scotch requires a splash, to do just that.
I love the peaty stuff, Laphroig, Lagavulin
Oban was pretty good too as I recall.

Highland Park is good if you want a change
lots of honey overtones in that one.


I have tried Laphroig and Lagavulin, I think I prefer the peat smoke flavor of Bowmore. I have yet to try the Oban or Highland Park...I live in a rural community and feel lucky to be able to order a good Port wood finish from time to time.
 
Sabina_Tolchovsky said:
there is a thirty year old glenmorangie that I lust for...(oh someday you will be mine)
I will explore the bowmore a bit more as well, I drink it just a drop of rainwater to open the flavor. Admittedly it is an aquired taste, two years ago I could not drink it that way but my range has evolved.
Thirty? Finally, a scotch old enough I can introduce her to my mother.
 
flyguy69 said:
Thirty? Finally, a scotch old enough I can introduce her to my mother.


I'm saving it for my birthday...it's a spendy little bottle at $500.

ps. I'm not sharing that one but I will let you kiss me afterwards. :kiss:
 
Sabina_Tolchovsky said:
I'm saving it for my birthday...it's a spendy little bottle at $500.

ps. I'm not sharing that one but I will let you kiss me afterwards. :kiss:
Just the way I love a woman: drunk and broke.
 
the snow has all melted, the puppy and the boys were finding the last dirty remnants of past mountains to stomp and dig and throw.

the grass is pushing through green and the red buds emerged from under the ice covered branches outside my window.

I do not like nature poetry, but on days like today I can certainly understand where it comes from
 
Went to Micks, on thursday, just to sit and listen. I'm sort of waiting on a piece, here, letting it simmer before I perform it. So, a girl I had a brief encounter with and then sort of broke things off via, "Oh, dear lord, I don't think you're human! Run the fuck away!" read a poem about me and my girlfriend Jack, who sat down with her once, a while ago and told this poet everything she feared about our relationship. And this girl gets up on stage and airs that in front of everyone.

No one knew it was about me, until I mentioned it to a couple friends and they - all knowing my skill at ripping on someone until they cry (Oh, how noble to do that to a girl, I might add. Pfeh.) - kept telling me to write something and bring it about her. I shrugged and smiled and held Jack's hand and we left when the reading was over, heading to a different bar where my/our friends hang out on thursday nights.

The girl was there and tried to play off the whole thing with, "I didn't know you two would be there." We are there every week. Mick's is my home. I love everyone in it, I love the stage, I love the poets, I love the art, the bartender, the owner and the guy that hosts the damn show. I love the slam poets and the academic poets, love the dust on Dan's english department departures from the normal shit. I love that the host Nat gave a toast in honor of me quitting my job. Love the bartender...

You get the idea. Open mic made me want to write, again. I wouldn't miss it for anything.

I tend to leave things alone, anymore. And that's what I'm going to do. I told her, "Eat shit." before she got one word out to me, after explaining everything to my girlfriend by way of cornering her in the bathroom and using greater size to keep Jack in the can. She tried to verbally bully her way into 'explaining' herself to me and I was on the point of giving her what for (titslikesecondhandzeppelins,could'vehadmywaywithyou,Ineverliedtoyou,youandyourbminusdramaclassbullshitdelivery,etc..) when I realized that attention is exactly what she wanted. I shook my head and I said, 'No, Jami. No attention. Befuckinggone. Go away.'

She looked like I felt when I shot my dog. And it didn't even make me feel better.

Bitch, there are people who have gone out of their way not to harm you on the other side of that poem, people who hold your brittle, spun candy heart in the palms of their hands. There are people who can read you like a free magazine in a waiting room - with ease and little interest.

If I were the drunk I was last week, if I were a bastard without conscience instead of a bastard with one... Ooh, I'd turn to drama on the stage.

But dear God, I think I've grown up, a little.

Kicking and screaming and gouging the floor with my nails. It's a little scary to look at what you would have done, the day before, with comtempt.

I am sorry, irrevocably, indelibly and other words that mean COMPLETELY and UTTERLY sorry that Jack had to have her feelings aired in front of the world. She's in therapy for being fucking shy and letting people walk on her as it is. She didn't need it. But I can see in the way she smiles when I kiss her, how she blossoms when I give her pep talks beside the stage, before she reads her poems. I know she only does it because I make her feel like she can. And that's too important to be taken away.

I want blood for Jack's hurt feelings, but blood is what that girl asked for.

She gets nothing.

The opposite of love is not hate. It's fucking indifference.

I refuse letting her know I care.

~R
 
sandspike said:
It sounds like you know your finer scotches. I admire a man who
has control over beautiful things. Me? I got sick off a pint of Chivas
Regal (?) in the late 60's, never went back. :(

Despite the obvious joke about drinking Chivas Regal in a 4$ room...

......well, actually. I didn't have much to add, beyond that.

~R
Rocks, Splash of Water
 
And just when I think that life won't look any better to me, any time soon..


longtime.jpg
 
I am baking bread today...some German recipe for Kaiser Rolls.
All my gear is packed waiting the next snow storm. I still need to wax my board and sharpen my edges...the next good hit to the mountains is four day's away and my feet itch to be on snow again.
The crystal striations are bad right now with the weather doing what it is. Avalanche weather. Cold and hard with a big storm coming.
I have been thinking of Craig Kelly who died in an avalanche climbing with the Canadian Mountaineer's back country group working on his certification for guideing...Craig with a light like the sun reflecting off snow behind his eyes always the first to the big storms. With all his knowledge and understanding of snow it must have been horrifying to see the wave coming. Climbing, not even strapped into your board...not even able to run for it. You were cheated.
They said the avalanche was as wide as ten football fields and leveled a thousand acres. I've never been caught but come close once. The world moved around me like concrete water; I have never ridden faster than that day. I can still hear the woosh in my nightmares.
 
roadkill safari

Me and Kris, ( the kiddo and I, lol) are back from the ocean visit to see her dad. It really got cold while we were there, but it was funy anyway.

Each way we saw lots of roadkill, poor babies, 7 dead dear, all females, a badger, 5 foxes, 4 raccoons about a dozen oppossum, and owl, a buzzard and we saw a huge brown and spotted animal that looked like an hyena but there are no hyena down here, it might have been a wild boar. I was gonna take pics of them, but it just didnt seem right :D OH, and we saw a live hog scratching his rump on an old tree, He looked like he was truly enjoying it.

One day, probably during the summer, I am going to take the time on the way there and get pics of all the old houses. They have been there probably a hundred years or longer. I dont mean the fancy ones,but the old ones,the forgotten, neglected, a burden to the great grand kids, type houses. the brown ones with tin roofs that are about to fall over,. They are so beautiful,they speak so loudly to be seen, to be touched and remembered.

There is this one, that the driveway is lined with pecan trees that are probably 150 years old or more. There is house down the road here (I stopped and asked the old fellow who owns it,) and how old it was. He told me his grandparents had built that house in 1868. and planted the tree the next year. I love that place, feel like it is someway mine too. My husband and I helped him clean up soome reallu huge limbs that had fallen near the edge of the house. and there he was, 89 years old, weilding that chain saw l like it was the most fun he had in years. Told up us to come back anytime. He mills his own grits and cormeal too, sells brown eggs, fresh daily ;)

I did get some pics of the ocean, some long legged birds in the part of the marsh where it fills up when high tide is in. When its out, there are countless oysters, just huge piles on top of more. we saw one alligator but that was yesterday when it was warmer, it was sunning on a rock.

I'm gonna make some av's of my critter pics, I did one already of the ocean, called it "spooky sea". It was a good trip, despite the brevity and the lack of an air pump to inflate the air mattress. We had a campfire and could see stars through the netting in the top of th e tent. ( left the top off on purpose :D)

till later
 
Senna Jawa said:
Abel, Niels H. (1802 - 1829):


******
Flaubert, Gustave (1821-1880):

Poetry is as exact a science as geometry

******


Senna Jawa​

If god almighty said this I wouldn't believe him because it is patently bunkum. However, if it is an exact science, prove it. Which I think was the substance of my question when you was so rude as to provoke me.
 
bogusbrig said:
[...] you was so rude as to provoke me.
You are dishonest. And it's you who is rude again. ("Rude" in your case is a gross understatement). On the top of it you have no class.
 
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Senna Jawa said:
You are dishonest. And it's you who is rude again. ("Rude" in your case is a gross understatement). On the top of it you have no class.

You implied with your quote that poetry is a hard science. If that is true you should be able to prove it.

My rudeness is asking you to prove your point which you appear to maintain is proveable.

The Class you allude to is as subjective as poetry and you are simply using it as a way of avoiding my challenge.

Prove your point.


You are happy to make scathing remarks about people's poetry, there is no doubt in my mind you have very fixed views of what poetry is and now you have revealed you believe poetry to be a hard science, you should be able to leave us all in no doubt that your opinions are not so much opinions but facts.

Prove your point.
 
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antologies of quotations

bogusbrig said:
You implied with your quote that poetry is a hard science.
I implied nothing. Quotes, when given alone, are just for entertainment.

My rudeness is asking you to prove your point which you appear to maintain is proveable.
No, you were rude because you have offended me. I don't see any reason to answer questions when they are a part of an offensive text. It's the second time that I am explaining to you this simple and obvious concept.

The Class you allude to is as subjective as poetry and you are simply using it as a way of avoiding my challenge.
You showed low class because earlier you have apologized for your rude behavior toward me, and now you did the same again. Stop this muddling.

You are happy to make scathing remarks about people's poetry
That's false. I am very happy to read great or good poems, to see new promising poets. On the other hand I see a lot of praises here all the time for the poems which are weak, which at the best might have just one or two promising features but which do not rise to the dignity of art. And still they are shamelessly praised. This indeed makes me sick, and occasionally I let you know about the state of affairs.

(BTW, spell it "provable", not "proveable").
 
Senna Jawa said:
No, you were rude because you have offended me. I don't see any reason to answer questions when they are a part of an offensive text. It's the second time that I am explaining to you this simple and obvious concept.

Hmm Just a little hypocrisy here.

Senna Jawa said:
You showed low class because earlier you have apologized for your rude behavior toward me, and now you did the same again. Stop this muddling.

This is a public forum. I asked you to prove a point that you implied was provable (<- no typo) but it appears you are happy to muddle to avoid having to prove a point you know you can't prove.


The best we can do is avoid each other.
 
Maria2394 said:
One day, probably during the summer, I am going to take the time on the way there and get pics of all the old houses. They have been there probably a hundred years or longer. I dont mean the fancy ones,but the old ones,the forgotten, neglected, a burden to the great grand kids, type houses. the brown ones with tin roofs that are about to fall over,. They are so beautiful,they speak so loudly to be seen, to be touched and remembered.

There is this one, that the driveway is lined with pecan trees that are probably 150 years old or more. There is house down the road here (I stopped and asked the old fellow who owns it,) and how old it was. He told me his grandparents had built that house in 1868. and planted the tree the next year.

You should photograph these...I love abandoned houses and decrepit barns. I find when you photograph something that has meaning like that, you end up getting better shots. You see the things everyone else misses, the detail...they speak to you.
 
bogusbrig said:
Hmm Just a little hypocrisy here.



This is a public forum. I asked you to prove a point that you implied was provable (<- no typo) but it appears you are happy to muddle to avoid having to prove a point you know you can't prove.


The best we can do is avoid each other.



Logic dispels the dogma of faith.
 
bogu and his mouse

bogusbrig said:
The best we can do is avoid each other.
"We"??

I would hardly know that you and your mouse (the "We" party) exist if it were not for your-Bogu insecure, loud, obnoxious and immature bothering me (your mouse has behaved ok so far).

Here's another quote from monsieur Gustave Flaubert, 1846:

To be stupid, and selfish, and to have good health are the three requirements for happiness; though if stupidity is lacking, the others are useless.
 
Senna Jawa said:
"We"??

I would hardly know that you and your mouse (the "We" party) exist if it were not for your-Bogu insecure, loud, obnoxious and immature bothering me (your mouse has behaved ok so far).

Here's another quote from monsieur Gustave Flaubert, 1846:

To be stupid, and selfish, and to have good health are the three requirements for happiness; though if stupidity is lacking, the others are useless.

A friend of mine once said, while drunk on a barstool...

"Assholes keep talking."

I thought he would say more, but he just left it at that.

~R
My Zen > Your Zen
 
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