When Asked Whether I'd the Chance to Read a River Runs Through It

As many chances as I have had moments;
the real question is have I taken them
or been taken by them
as they hurried on their way.

There's a desperate worry a daytimer holds
which a sun dial never knows.
Maybe no man discerns how his shadow grows
or marks its darkening stroll.

That a river runs through it should be the hope
to the weary unwatered at its brink.
how sad when, taken by the moment's flow,
they fail to stop and drink.

The VanPan Man Can

To the tune of The Candy Man
Who can take a happy meal,
tear it all to bits,
leave it in the car so mold can grow on it?
Your kids can, your kids can,
They'll turn your minivan into their trash can
cause that's the way they ride...

Who can take a messy van,
make it nice and clean,
keep it so that it is always pristine?
I have no idea.

But I do know who can take pictures of it, post them with hilarious descriptions and leave you feeling a little better with the knowledge that you aren't the only one.

We just call him the Van Pan Man



The crying indian has a tear in his eye because "Your minivan is so messy."

Obama's Posse Led by Fairey

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

But Shepard Fairey, the creator of the OBEY GIANT street art campaign has produced a limited printing to illustrate his support for the Democratic nominee. It is the antithesis of his original artistic mission via the Andre the Giant has a Posse stickers and posters which Fairey described as an experiment in phenomenology. Seeing the black and white sticker of Andre the Giant on a stop sign with the enigmatic declarative that he has a posse was intended to make you stop and say "What does that mean?"
And I can remember just that feeling of seeing the sticker from a distance, staring at it, wondering about it, knowing that there was something to it that I just wasn't getting. It was an interesting, albeit rather trivial experience. Fast forward a decade and a half, and, as with so many things which rattle around in the disorganized warehouse of memory, the image of Andre or a later more abstracted one with the mandate "OBEY" comes to mind. But now it comes to mind within reach of a computer which reaches an internet indexed by Google. Moments later, the man behind the curtain is revealed as a Shepard Fairey.

Since the days of being an art student with a street art bent, he has now become an established part of the anti-establishment. He still illustrates the walls of warehouses and signposts, but he also shows in galleries and has a slick website that is happy to sell you this or that. You can join him in thumbing your nose at the man (now will that be visa or mastercard?).

Now picking up the nation's palette (red, white and muted cyan (remember it's still art)), he shows Obama and the word Progress. From an oblique subcultural reference with an ambiguous statement to a national figure with an explicit branding - so goes the way of Fairey from art to politics. Maybe I shouldn't have looked to see the man behind the curtain. For the mysterious vagueness and ambiguity, you'll have to look to his candidate.

OBEY

For the Good of the Order (FTGOTO)

With two traffic driven server crashes and the time involved in reading and appropriately responding to your comments, a couple of months have slipped by without a posting. But now, dear reader (this is an expression - not just an accurate numerical count of this blog's audience), you can breathe.

That sounds like something that Cecil Adams would say - except for the self deprecating (which Cecil never is nor should be) comment about audience size. If you are unfamiliar with Cecil or his mission to rid the world of ignorance, hasten to his electronic academy here. You should, of course, use the "open link in a new tab" option so that you don't lose your place here and miss the good stuff below.

The good stuff below:

While a thoughtful entry which shines the light on deep existential truths is good reading for the commercial breaks in an episode of Lost. Entries labeled FTGOTO are for nuggets of virtual goodness; links to sites of interest, amusement or revelation.

Do not go to this site unless you have at least 37 minutes to kill.
Bringing math to the masses, sort of: GraphJam.

A personal favorite. I was only three, but even then, my Kung Fu was strong.

For Service, Press Here

I am frequently astounded by my capacity for inaction. If I had a dime for every good idea/ invention/story/ song/drawing/ etc that ever came into my mind and never received fuller realization, I'd have a lot of dimes. Of course, this is why all creative endeavors benefit from a measure of discipline. In fact, the very act of being creative is fostered by disciplined opportunities for creation. I have recently been reminded of this truth.

I have two friends who are not quite right (actually to the extent that they are bent, they are bent like me - which is why I enjoy their company). One of them, for reasons known only to him, emailed a few haiku touching on the joy of his work life. By the time I read his email, our other friend had already responded with a few of his own. I wanted to and did respond in kind. Had it not been for the prompting and the challenge, I would have written no haiku that week. But pressed a bit, that part of me which needs creative outlet took what it could get and went to the task of composing seventeen syllable poems.

Such opportunities and the sort of companions who foster them are not to be passed up. The haiku are here.

p.s. I feel obligated to clarify that I actually have a good number more than two of friends who are not quite right. But only these particular two are relevant to this observation.