I have long been fascinated by shallow pools of clear water. I’m drawn to them by charm I do not understand. They’re inviting in some mystical, perhaps primordial way. Memories seem to be connected to such pools, though I have no such conscious memories.
There are theories that memories can be carried by genes. Am I remembering some time before time. If so, then why doesn’t everyone.
“That’s a very tiny piece of paper”. “Yeah, but I’ll do the job”. “Alright, Jimmy, You never set me wrong, yet”.
Jeff places the tiny bit of paper on his tongue and swallows. Jimmy hands him a pill. “Take this with the acid”. “What’s this”? “Dramamine, it’s for travel sickness, funny, huh? Dramamine works for LSD trips the same as it works for train & planes”.
Welcome, welcome, welcome. This is What’s Up radio broadcasting from big, beautiful clear-channel WALTZ. I’m Tuck Avery. My co-conspirator is Buzz Belton. We wanna know what you think about friends. We all have friends: good friends; disappointing friends. friends we didn’t know we had; all kinds of friends.
I enjoy learning how writers write.
I like to know what they have to say about their work. Where do they they write? What strategies do they use. How do they know when they’ve written well? Variety is expected.
Similarities are more instructive.
This is What’s Up radio, broadcasting from big, beautiful clear-channel WALTZ. I’m Tuck Avery. My partner in crime is Buzz Belton. We wanna know what’s up with you. Who we got on the line, Buzz?
It happened so fast. The black kid grabbed her purse. She stabbed him. The steel blade pierced his heart. He stumbled back a few feet and fell dead to the street.
Damn! Well, why not? Tastes good. Sweet amber spirits with a note of caramel lingering on the tongue. Morning light dancing through the glass. How pleasant. And, if you don’t get drunk, where’s the harm?
Every collage kid knows Nietzsche said, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger”. That’s also about all they know about Nietzsche. That’s all I knew, too. Until I decided to read what he said in his own words.
Pah! I spit you out. You are old, unsquirtable, like curdled curd in an empty Cheez Whiz can, like a Bailey’s Chocolate Cherry without the liquor, like Juicy Fruit gum with nothing left but the gum. Without moisture, you’re no longer useful. I spit you out
They were supposed to meet at Union Station in Kansas City. Aunt Maudine waited, and waited. Hours passed. Finally, sadly, she left for home. Dad showed up much later. Don’t know why, certainly not willingly.
Despite being fictional, Mack the Knife continues to haunt the darker alleys of our minds. A large reason why is the schism between lyric and score.
It takes a few minutes of listening
to realize the song is about murder
as a career.
When the winds blows wet and warm. When gray winter retreats from blooming green becoming. When new leaves dance like dyads in the rain. When the passion of the equinox stirs the blood and the sap begins to rise, so then does Dionysus, the god of all that is wet and glistening.
How do you know what you know is true. You don’t. You can’t. No one can. The reality is that we can never know that anything is absolutely, no doubt about it, 100% true. That does not stop us from believing something is absolutely, no doubt about it, 100% true.
There are two inscriptions on the walls of the Temple at Delphi: Know Thyself; and Nothing in Excess. They were inscribed there some twenty-five hundred years ago. These two aphorisms were wise then. They remain so today.
My first Friends were animals. Now, in my old age, my remaining friends are animals.In between I’ve had many wonderful friends that were human. Some were pals, some were business partners, some were lovers. Some I knew well, some I barely knew, others were very dear to me. They’re mostly gone. Maybe I’ve lived too long
Every thought that passed through Nub’s head came in the form of what we would now call virtual reenactments, something like videos with smells, sounds, and feelings. They were memories, but not in the usual understanding of the word.
Alchemists struggled for centuries
to turn base metals into gold.
They famously failed. It can’t be done.
Gold only forms when stars explode.
“He seemed like a nice guy, you know, quiet, sort of kept to himself”.
“Mmm, well if you think of anything, here’s my card, give me a call.
A lot of folks visit Niagara Falls, including me. I went in the mid-sixties. Little did I know that a distinguished Egyptian Pharaoh was there as well.
Femme fatale, Exotic dancer, Courtesan, Spy; Mata Hari has been variously labeled all of these. There is some truth to all of them, left out are: Mother; Abused Wife; and Scapegoat