Look what I got... :)

Global Colding

On the eve of April, it snows in the Seattle lowlands. 

If anyone has spent any significant time in this city, they would likely know that this is a bizarre event indeed. 

I did not take this photo

Life is finally happening...

After a grueling 4 month wait and plenty of rejection on the way, I woke up this morning to find in my inbox an acceptance letter to the University of Washington's MFA program in fiction. I am honestly still in shock.

That being said, I need to publicly gush for a moment about the goodness of God, and how it seems that he is being extra merciful toward me lately. For the first time in 4 years I don't feel like I am flailing about aimlessly, but finally have some sort of clear direction that life is being permitted to take. This seems to be true for some of you as well. That may seem insignificant to many people, but for those of you with a Cal Poly liberal arts degree I need not explain myself. Life is finally happening.

As of now, until I hear the final word from Irvine, I am more than happy to settle into the idea of a timely return home to the land of my birth in September.

Daylight Savings and Fascism

We are all slaves to time, to our watches, to these precise little seconds clicking away on the wall. And a thought occurred to me: This is an instrument of fascism. An abstraction based on fear and propaganda meant to control the masses into collective efficient behavior to promote the end of the state.

I ask you-- who controls the time? Who defines it? And yet we all accept this abstraction as immutible fact:

"Excuse me sir, WHAT TIME IS IT?"

"Well, it appears it is 8:04."

"Oh no! I'm late for W8!" (Rushes off, likely exhibiting physiological signs of stress.)



We are all slaves to an abstraction we know nothing about. What's worse is, twice a year, the time is redefined. Emails are sent out from churches on Saturdays reading "Don't forget about the time change." People say cleverly to each other in passing: "Don't forget to SPRING FORWARD!" And everyone rushes about, doing exactly such, terrified that they will somehow forget. There is the ever present fear that someone is watching you when you don't adhere to the fascist state's definition of time. For the soul that dare questions it... well, this can only bring on ridicule and public shame.

"I just woke up"

"Just? Geez, it's 10 o'clock am"

"Well, it feels like nine."

"Ha ha ha"

"Well, who decided it had to be 10 o'clock? I hate these time changes. They don't make any sense."

"Well, you see, hundreds of years ago farmers needed more daylight to plant and harvest their crops, so between March and late October the moved the day forward an hour. So everyone has to observe this. You don't have a choice."

"Well, there are farmers in Indiana and they don't observe a time change."

"They are communists. They do not participate in the perpetuation of the state."

"Oh..." (shaking with fear)

It smacks malodorously of pan-opticon, the modern prison, situated in a circular manner around a guard station with two way mirrors, where one person can at all times view the prisoner but the prisoner can never view the guard.

We all as modern people now live according this mutable abstraction called "time"-- hours and seconds and minutes and locating them and pinpointing them at certain points through out the day. We define it like this: 9:45 or 11:21 or 2:09, and we embrace and except that these symbols
as absolute, they define space and govern all our human rituals, and if one does NOT adhere to them, she is then thusly defined as LAZY, or FLAKY, or a FISH.

Well, in the name of Freedom, I urge you this year to think outside of yourselves. Do not let your life be governed by a series of mutable abstractions you have been deceived to think are absolute.

This year, we must join together, and refuse to observe the time change. Modern Luddites, break thy clocks.

You've done it again, Chairman!

From an actual article on CNN.com:

WASHINGTON (AP) -- Amid a discussion of trade in 1973, Chinese leader Mao Zedong made what U.S. Secretary of State Henry Kissinger called a novel proposition: sending tens of thousands, even 10 million, Chinese women to the United States.

Chinese leader Mao Zedong, here depicted in an Andy Warhol painting, offered women to the U.S.

"You know, China is a very poor country," Mao said, according to a document released by the State Department's historian office.

"We don't have much. What we have in excess is women. So if you want them we can give a few of those to you, some tens of thousands."

A few minutes later, Mao circled back to the offer. "Do you want our Chinese women?" he asked. "We can give you 10 million."

After Kissinger noted Mao was "improving his offer," the chairman said, "We have too many women. ... They give birth to children and our children are too many."

"It is such a novel proposition," Kissinger replied in his discussion with Mao in Beijing. "We will have to study it."

Merry Christmas, Pervert.

Today, in Payless Foods grocery store on Whidbey Island, in the bountiful state of Washington, I went shopping for stocking stuffers.
My dad told me "Get us somethin' useful. I dont want anything im gonna hafta throw away. Practical stuff ONLY."
So naturally, I went right to the aisle that has sticky hands you can fling across the room with a flick of the wrist, cap guns, and plastic U.S. and Soviet army men. After grabbing a few of each, I stuck in some dental floss and an Architectural Digest magazine for my brother's Christmas sock. I got in line with the nearest checker, a kind, matronly-looking woman with wire rimmed glasses and a few missing incisors. As she rang up all my little balsa wood airplanes and plastic bubble blowers she addressed me.

"Wuz all this for?" She asked, holding up a packet of army men.

"Stocking stuffers," I said.

"You got some liddle kid at home er somethin?" She asked.

"No. They're for my brother. He's twenty five years old."

"Hm." She smiled, and rung up the magazine. "This fer him?"

"Yeah."

She wrinkled her nose and shrugged."I'd say gittim a Playboy, but we dont carry em no more."

"That's alright," I said. "I think that would probably be a little awkward."

She raised an eyebrow and looked upward, pressing her lips into a thin line. Then she nodded slowly. "Yeahhhh," she said. "Guess yer right. Dint think about that. Welp, merry Chrismiss."

Let this be a lesson to all: Next time you want to buy porn for your relatives as Christmas gifts, don't go to Payless Foods in Freeland, Washington. They don't carry it no more. Merry Christmas, and God Bless Us Every One.

Hipster Haiku

Today I was online, reading about Cornell's M.F.A. program. I was looking on their list of recent graduates for names I recognized. (Truth be told, I was looking for a name-- anyone-- I could convincingly drop into my statement of intent.) I came across Siobhan Adcock, and I thought to myself Sarah, where have you heard that name? And then I realized it. Ms. Adcock, graduate of the Cornell workshop, authored the affectionate yet sardonic Hipster Haiku.

This is Ms. Adcock's Cover-art. I appreciate the inclusion of the book in the image, which I'm assuming is something by Salinger. Probably Franny and Zooey. The Bike is also important, but would seem more hipster-appropriate if it weren't a beach cruiser but rather a bright red fixed-gear with green wheels. The bike pictured is certainly no Her Majesty the Cannondale, the fair bicycle belonging my dear friend Ribs Garner, once Hipster King of our own little town.

Ribs Garner with room-mate Paul at anonymous
non-vegetarian restaurant somewhere on the I-5 to Portland.

Hipster Haiku is rather self-explanatory. It is a book-length series of Haiku devoted to hipsters everywhere. I thought I would include a few of my favorites here for posterity:

It remains so cold
In the space between my Vans
And footless leggings


Only blazer-clad
Huddled like bees, our hands hold
hand-rolled cigarettes

My bike frame tangles
With yours on the curb outside
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

Now, for all you my hipster blog-friends, I thought I would try a few of my own:

Dylan Bowes

With tats and mullet
I dance to Eisley and wear
Urban Outfitters

Shea Somma

Fixed-gear surfer boy
Plaigerized a hip band-name
Then did the ball dance

Haley Stocking

Scandinavian
She has brown angular bangs
And purple converse

Paul McCullough

Wardrobe quite austere,
I love philosophy but
Hate Campus Crusade

Eric Campbell Garner

Look at that young man:
Pants like they're painted on and
Carrying a purse

Kyle Wilhelm

I ride a tall bike
To the studio where I
Paint nude self-portraits


Nic Nesbitt

Unique Facial Hair
Eco-friendly, Rides bikes, and
Wears horizontal stripes


Amy Tietz

American but
She can read Hugo in six
Different Languages


Chris Shotwell

Dark-rimmed glasses on,
He listens to Sigur-Ros
And plans green cities

Anna Salamone

Vintage cowgirl boots
I loved Death Cab before you
But now they're not cool


Please feel free to add on. I love you all.