Dean and I went out to a new neighborhood Italian pizza place last night: Mioposto in Mt. Baker, near the park. Nice high windowside table. Great thin-crust pizza cooked in a wood fire oven. A more oil-based Caesar salad. Decent Trebbiano. We shared the prosciutto and arugula pizza with Parmesan and regianno. Simply delish!
Off to work again . . . busy with phase II of electronic records "Go-Lives." And poetry group tonight . . . I can hardly wait to see my poetry buddies.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
New Intern
I received my new driver's license in the mail today; and while putting my old one away in a box in my bedroom closet, I found this old name badge from my first year of residency at UWMC. My oh my, what a blast from the past. The picture was taken during the first day of intern orientation, I was fresh from vacation in New York, and ready to get started. I look so happy (and so tan!). Good times.
Monstrance for a Grey Horse
— James Acord, 1988
Unearthly, equine form —
zygomas empty eyes blue
teeth polished smooth —
trapezoidal ton of granite
enclosing a small canister
of live nuclear material
mined from the artist’s
mildly radioactive
Franciscanware plates.
Held now in suspense.
Held now in suspended
animation. Imagine —
this stone knight
placed outside Hanford’s
dead zone. Centuries
past the final zugzwang,
the only piece remaining
on a deserted battlefield.
*
— James Acord, 1988
Unearthly, equine form —
zygomas empty eyes blue
teeth polished smooth —
trapezoidal ton of granite
enclosing a small canister
of live nuclear material
mined from the artist’s
mildly radioactive
Franciscanware plates.
Held now in suspense.
Held now in suspended
animation. Imagine —
this stone knight
placed outside Hanford’s
dead zone. Centuries
past the final zugzwang,
the only piece remaining
on a deserted battlefield.
*
Monday, June 12, 2006
Do these pants make my calves look fat?
In honor of Rafael Nadal, the capri-wearing Majorcan who yesterday defended his French Open crown in a thrilling four-set match over boring Swiss Roger Federer, I will repost my "Question of the Week(end)" from last year:
Q: If you were a gay man, would you wear capri pants?
Please choose one:
A: Definitely yes! They are the latest fashion statement.
B: Maybe: it depends upon how hot it it is outside.
C: What are capri pants? Are they like cargo pants?
D: Definitely no. I would not be caught dead wearing them.
E: Gay men do not wear capri pants. They are strictly for metrosexuals.
posted by Peter @ 5:35 PM 20 comments (click here to view last year's responses)
*
Q: If you were a gay man, would you wear capri pants?
Please choose one:
A: Definitely yes! They are the latest fashion statement.
B: Maybe: it depends upon how hot it it is outside.
C: What are capri pants? Are they like cargo pants?
D: Definitely no. I would not be caught dead wearing them.
E: Gay men do not wear capri pants. They are strictly for metrosexuals.
posted by Peter @ 5:35 PM 20 comments (click here to view last year's responses)
*
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Borges' Cat
Beppo
El gato blanco y célibe se mira
en la lúcida luna del espejo
y no puede saber que esa blancura
y esos ojos de oro que no ha visto
nunca en la casa son su propia imagen.
¿Quién le dirá que el otro que lo observa
es apenas un sueño del espejo?
Me digo que esos gatos armoniosos
el de cristal y el de caliente sangre,
son simulacros que concede el tiempo
un arquetipo eterno. Así lo afirma,
sombra también, Plotino en las Ennéadas.
¿De qué Adán anterior al paraíso,
de qué divinidad indescifrable
somos los hombres un espejo roto?
and now the Babel Fish translation:
Beppo
The white and celibate cat watches itself
in the gracious moon of the mirror
and that whiteness cannot know that
and those gold eyes that have not seen
in the house they are never his own image.
Who will say that the other to him that observes it
it is as soon as a dream of the mirror?
I say that those harmonious cats
the one of crystal and the one of hot blood,
they are maneuverses that the time grants
an eternal archetype. Thus it affirms it,
shade also, Plotino in the Ennéadas.
Of what Adam previous to the paradise,
of what indecipherable divinity
we are the men a broken mirror?
and now the Alan S. Trueblood translation from Selected Poems:
Beppo
The celibate white cat surveys himself
in the mirror's clear-eyed glass,
not suspecting that the whiteness facing him
and those gold eyes that he's not seen before
in ramblings through the house are his own likeness.
Who is to tell him that the cat observing him
is only the mirror's way of dreaming?
I remind myself that these concordant cats —
the one of glass, the one with warm blood coursing —
are both mere simulacra granted time
by a timeless archtype. In the Enneads
Plotinus, himself a shade, has said as much.
Of what Adam predating paradise,
of what inscrutable divinity
are all of us a broken mirror-image?
I sort of like the surprising leaps the Bable Fish translation takes. In fact, I think I prefer it. The images are much more mysterious and engaging, to my reading. And I don't mind at all that the Babel Fish poem is not syntactically correct.
PS: Beppo, of course, was Borges' own big white cat.
El gato blanco y célibe se mira
en la lúcida luna del espejo
y no puede saber que esa blancura
y esos ojos de oro que no ha visto
nunca en la casa son su propia imagen.
¿Quién le dirá que el otro que lo observa
es apenas un sueño del espejo?
Me digo que esos gatos armoniosos
el de cristal y el de caliente sangre,
son simulacros que concede el tiempo
un arquetipo eterno. Así lo afirma,
sombra también, Plotino en las Ennéadas.
¿De qué Adán anterior al paraíso,
de qué divinidad indescifrable
somos los hombres un espejo roto?
and now the Babel Fish translation:
Beppo
The white and celibate cat watches itself
in the gracious moon of the mirror
and that whiteness cannot know that
and those gold eyes that have not seen
in the house they are never his own image.
Who will say that the other to him that observes it
it is as soon as a dream of the mirror?
I say that those harmonious cats
the one of crystal and the one of hot blood,
they are maneuverses that the time grants
an eternal archetype. Thus it affirms it,
shade also, Plotino in the Ennéadas.
Of what Adam previous to the paradise,
of what indecipherable divinity
we are the men a broken mirror?
and now the Alan S. Trueblood translation from Selected Poems:
Beppo
The celibate white cat surveys himself
in the mirror's clear-eyed glass,
not suspecting that the whiteness facing him
and those gold eyes that he's not seen before
in ramblings through the house are his own likeness.
Who is to tell him that the cat observing him
is only the mirror's way of dreaming?
I remind myself that these concordant cats —
the one of glass, the one with warm blood coursing —
are both mere simulacra granted time
by a timeless archtype. In the Enneads
Plotinus, himself a shade, has said as much.
Of what Adam predating paradise,
of what inscrutable divinity
are all of us a broken mirror-image?
I sort of like the surprising leaps the Bable Fish translation takes. In fact, I think I prefer it. The images are much more mysterious and engaging, to my reading. And I don't mind at all that the Babel Fish poem is not syntactically correct.
PS: Beppo, of course, was Borges' own big white cat.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Can We Help You?
I was at one of our Northend clinics today, helping with an electronic medical records implementation and saw posted at one of the provider's desk a listing of some of the "Reason for Today's Visit" that have been written on patient's charts over the years:
Fist in armpit
General wart
information regarding chicken pots
Herniated Dick
skin falling off penis
F/U CK
stablish care, GAU assing pt
pt wants Dr. to interfere with her virginity
pap snear
f/u on freezing of face
pt able to walk 50 yrs before he needs to stop
get her tubes tight
Dumbness in fingers
*
Sounds like a fun place to work.
Fist in armpit
General wart
information regarding chicken pots
Herniated Dick
skin falling off penis
F/U CK
stablish care, GAU assing pt
pt wants Dr. to interfere with her virginity
pap snear
f/u on freezing of face
pt able to walk 50 yrs before he needs to stop
get her tubes tight
Dumbness in fingers
*
Sounds like a fun place to work.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
There *Is* a God!
Eyman Fails to Deliver
After hijacking an anti-gay-rights referendum from its evangelical backers, Tim Eyman ran it into the ground Tuesday.
Minutes before the filing deadline, the for-profit initiative promoter surprised many political experts by announcing in Olympia that he and other supporters failed -- by a wide margin -- to gather enough voter signatures to force a public vote on the state's new gay civil rights law.
see full story here
In other news: it looks like the "Ammendment to Ban Gay Marriage" is going down to defeat in the other Washington (DC). With all the work that is needing to get done, it amazes me that conservative leaders would take three weeks out of a tight legislative schedule to force a vote on this. What about Iraq? the economy? health care? the environment? global warming? Bunch of frigging idiot bigots. History will not look kindly upon them.
After hijacking an anti-gay-rights referendum from its evangelical backers, Tim Eyman ran it into the ground Tuesday.
Minutes before the filing deadline, the for-profit initiative promoter surprised many political experts by announcing in Olympia that he and other supporters failed -- by a wide margin -- to gather enough voter signatures to force a public vote on the state's new gay civil rights law.
see full story here
In other news: it looks like the "Ammendment to Ban Gay Marriage" is going down to defeat in the other Washington (DC). With all the work that is needing to get done, it amazes me that conservative leaders would take three weeks out of a tight legislative schedule to force a vote on this. What about Iraq? the economy? health care? the environment? global warming? Bunch of frigging idiot bigots. History will not look kindly upon them.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
What I've Been Reading
The Adventures of Pinocchio, Carlo Collodi & Roberto Innocenti (illustrator). I bought this for the wonderful dark wintry illustrations. Oh Field of Miracles, Oh Blue Fairy!
Saving Daylight, Jim Harrison. Young love, old love, and everything in-between.
Echolalia, Deborah Bernhardt. Fun stuff, delightful language and word play.
Apropos of Nothing, Richard Jones. New book from Copper Canyon. My favorite poem is also the shortest:
Saved
between the pages
of a handbook on prosody —
monarch wings
Refusing Heaven, Jack Gilbert. I loved Monolithos. It was one of my most favorite books back then. But I don't get what all the fuss is about this book (NBCCA, etc). Still, I liked a few poems very much, including this odd little one:
Meditation Eleven: Reading Blake Again
I remember that house I rented with them.
The laughing and constant talk of love.
The energy of their friends.
And the sounds late at night.
The sound of whipping. Urging and screams.
Like the dead lying to each other.
Wisteria, Kwane Dawes. Narrative poems in the voices of black women who lived through most of the 20th century in the old south. Looks really interesting so far.
Green Squall, Jay Hopler. It won the Yale. Not as interesting as Siken's Crush, but definitely a good read. Here's a short one (a little melodramatic, but funny in its own way):
Meditation Malheureuse
1.
The rain stops
Just long enough to make you think
Of the one day in your whole rotten
Childhood you where happy.
2.
Then it starts raining again.
Perhaps my favorite poem in the book is the wonderful closing poem, "Feast of the Ascension, 2004. Planting Hibiscus" where Hopler seems to come to terms with nature, death, the garden and its beauty/terrors:
"It is hard to believe beauty is the new ugliness.
But it must be, why else would so many of my contemporaries
mock it so?"
Beside Ourselves, Nance Van Winckel. Read: "If You're Happy & You Know It."
Collected Poems, Jorge Luis Borges. Some real gems here, for instance, "To a Minor Poet of the Greek Anthology."
Journeyman's Wages, Clemens Stark. Great poems from a carpenter and ex-railroad hobo. Met him at Wordstock.
The Wrong End of the Rainbow, Charles Wright. Same old stuff, and still good as ever.
Happy reading . . . .
PP
Saving Daylight, Jim Harrison. Young love, old love, and everything in-between.
Echolalia, Deborah Bernhardt. Fun stuff, delightful language and word play.
Apropos of Nothing, Richard Jones. New book from Copper Canyon. My favorite poem is also the shortest:
Saved
between the pages
of a handbook on prosody —
monarch wings
Refusing Heaven, Jack Gilbert. I loved Monolithos. It was one of my most favorite books back then. But I don't get what all the fuss is about this book (NBCCA, etc). Still, I liked a few poems very much, including this odd little one:
Meditation Eleven: Reading Blake Again
I remember that house I rented with them.
The laughing and constant talk of love.
The energy of their friends.
And the sounds late at night.
The sound of whipping. Urging and screams.
Like the dead lying to each other.
Wisteria, Kwane Dawes. Narrative poems in the voices of black women who lived through most of the 20th century in the old south. Looks really interesting so far.
Green Squall, Jay Hopler. It won the Yale. Not as interesting as Siken's Crush, but definitely a good read. Here's a short one (a little melodramatic, but funny in its own way):
Meditation Malheureuse
1.
The rain stops
Just long enough to make you think
Of the one day in your whole rotten
Childhood you where happy.
2.
Then it starts raining again.
Perhaps my favorite poem in the book is the wonderful closing poem, "Feast of the Ascension, 2004. Planting Hibiscus" where Hopler seems to come to terms with nature, death, the garden and its beauty/terrors:
"It is hard to believe beauty is the new ugliness.
But it must be, why else would so many of my contemporaries
mock it so?"
Beside Ourselves, Nance Van Winckel. Read: "If You're Happy & You Know It."
Collected Poems, Jorge Luis Borges. Some real gems here, for instance, "To a Minor Poet of the Greek Anthology."
Journeyman's Wages, Clemens Stark. Great poems from a carpenter and ex-railroad hobo. Met him at Wordstock.
The Wrong End of the Rainbow, Charles Wright. Same old stuff, and still good as ever.
Happy reading . . . .
PP
Monday, June 05, 2006
6-6-6: Are You Ready for the Rapture?
Go to this site, and get your letters ready now, for sending to family and friends, letting them know you have been taken up.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Evil Pharmacist
Dean and I had a lovely dinner last night with our old (and I mean *really* old: she's 71, he's 78) friends Erika and Bob. He's a former high school teacher; she's a former nurse. We had a fascinating discussion about the new Washington State law that allows a pharmacist to refuse to fill a prescription if it goes against his or her religious or moral beliefs. For instance, they can refuse to fill a valid prescription for Plan B for emergency contraception, or birth control pills, or AIDS drugs, or antibiotics for STD's. It is mind-boggling how the state Board of Pharmacy pushed this through. I'm moving to Canada.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Fascinating story about flowering bamboo. Apparently many species of bamboo are genetically programmed to flower and die in unison, over cycles that can be as long as 48 years. Plants from the same genetic line, even if they are continents apart, will all flower at the same time, and then die. In many parts of the world there are folk sayings that "when the bamboo flowers, death and destruction follow." There is some truth to this though, because as the bamboo forests die en masse, there is no source of wood for fuel and construction, the bare soil becomes eroded and floods and landslides occur, the rat population explodes to eat the bamboo flower seeds (which are apparently large and protein-rich). When the seeds are all gone, the rats then turn to eating the agricultural crops. Yowza. It's a mystery to scientists why bamboo forests would flower and die this way. A few of the theories:
1) The predator satiation hypothesis suggests that the mass flowering and seeding of the bamboo swamps predators with too many seeds to ensure some survive. 2) The plant competition theory suggests that under ideal circumstances bamboos maintain dominance over other vegetation in the areas in which they grow (see some of the extensive tracts of forests in India and China for excellent examples) and so to maintain that dominance, mass seeding carpets the ground with offspring and prevents other species from getting a foothold. 3) The fire cycle hypothesis, put forward by Keeley and Bond, that suggests that large scale death of flowered bamboos increases the chances of fire and the fire removes from competition any other plants.
Why does this fascinate me today? I don't know, exactly. But I want to work "flowering bamboo" into a poem.
1) The predator satiation hypothesis suggests that the mass flowering and seeding of the bamboo swamps predators with too many seeds to ensure some survive. 2) The plant competition theory suggests that under ideal circumstances bamboos maintain dominance over other vegetation in the areas in which they grow (see some of the extensive tracts of forests in India and China for excellent examples) and so to maintain that dominance, mass seeding carpets the ground with offspring and prevents other species from getting a foothold. 3) The fire cycle hypothesis, put forward by Keeley and Bond, that suggests that large scale death of flowered bamboos increases the chances of fire and the fire removes from competition any other plants.
Why does this fascinate me today? I don't know, exactly. But I want to work "flowering bamboo" into a poem.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
What Sesame Street Character Are You?
. . . thanks Ivy . . .
| You Are Bert |
 Extremely serious and a little eccentric, people find you loveable - even if you don't love them! You are usually feeling: Logical - you rarely let your emotions rule you You are famous for: Being smart, a total neat freak, and maybe just a little evil How you live your life: With passion, even if your odd passions (like bottle caps and pigeons) are baffling to others |
Woman dies after fall from moving vehicle on West Seattle Bridge
"Police found a black jacket, a pair of lavender sandals and an empty biscuit tray near the victim." This is just so disturbing . . .
"Police found a black jacket, a pair of lavender sandals and an empty biscuit tray near the victim." This is just so disturbing . . .
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