011010

I am perturbed by a trend I see among basketball commentators, who are generally well spoken. Nearly across the board, instead of saying "Knicks basketball" or "outstanding performance from the Blazers bench," they invariably say, "Watch _Knick_ basketball every Sunday," or "that's the thing about _Blazer_ basketball." I find this tendency nearly blood curdling. It is correct always to refer to the team in a plural form: for example, "your source for Knicks basketball," and, "a real benefit to the Blazers roster." There is no circumstance when "Knick" or "Blazer" is correct. It's the Knicks, the Blazers, the Cavaliers, the Nuggets, the Lakers, etc, _in all instances_.

*Lord's-Jester*

The remake of Heracles is quite good. I don't think the recipe is finished yet. I cut down too much on the black currant and not quite enough on the boronia. Also, I reversed the amounts of benzoin and labdanum, and while labdanum is also an excellent fixative, I prefer benzoin (for its fixative properties; labdanum itself is one of my top three favorite aromatics); I will return to the first way I did it. But Uta said she liked that it's lighter than a lot of my perfumes; really, the trick is to make it, changed as above, in eau de toilette strength. It will be just right at that strength. This time, because boronia is expensive (I don't want to waste any on another sample), I will change the weights themselves; I've grown accustomed enough with weight that I'm quite certain that will work just fine.

Helen, with 24 notes, is mysterious and fascinating, but it needs more time to mature maybe; it's been three weeks but think, with that much olfactory material, the more time the better for maturation. Oddly, though it has only one note in it which might be considered edible, it smells highly edible to me. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I think it smells like some kind of fruit, or nut, or wine. It's exotic, that's for sure. Like some kind of exotic dried fruit. Maybe a cross between dates and raisins and earthy wine; a liqueur scent to be sure. After half an hour, it turns suddenly brighter, which is mystifying because the top is extremely bright; after a couple of hours, it's mostly balsamic, which makes sense because three of eight base notes I consider balsamic. It has good lasting power, but it's a tad odd, so whether or not a person would like it while it lasts is a question. We shall see.

*Poem*

Badges of Honor

Nic and I were infamous around town.

Everyone in Blue Hill knew us:

that couple forever covered in dirt.

We yanked enough stones out of

the meadow to build a whole new

America. And we couldn't say we

didn't want to start all over again,

build it again from the ground up,

with everything new once more,

our relationships with animals,

our harmony with the earth,

our ways of saying yes while meaning

no. We tried to be proud

despite the fact we were living in

a barn; by the time our cabin

was built, the winter was coming on

and we weren't ready.

It felt great to be the local bad boy

(though, in truth, I always had been).

We spent days making love in the woods,

digging, always digging,

waiting for the cold to come.

We wore our dirt stains like

badges of honor. We lived simply,

off the 50-pound bags of grain

we'd brought from the city.

And more than anything we were

unflappable, taking every setback

in stride, pushing on until the cabin

was finished, not caring one wit

what others thought of us.

I think mostly they admired us,

but I really could care less.

We were dirty, full of ourselves,

and idealistic to a fault.

I'd go back there in a second,

back to who I was in the beginning,

back to hope and love, but

I know now that hopes always fail.

*Fiction*

The Glass of Time by Michael Cox:

This is a sequel to The Meaning of Night. The lead character here is the daughter of the lead in The Meaning of Night. It's an interesting book, but, if you're looking for a story of intrigue on par with the first book, you will be disappointed. This is a well-crafted period piece, set in the 1800s, like the first, but it contains none of the mind-bending backstabbing which characterized the precursor. The first was a classic story of what must have been the first example of identity theft, about English peerage, full of gripping twists of fate, rich in historical detail, a page-turner; the only aspect The Glass of Time retains is the richness of historical detail. This is the story of a young woman sent on a mission by her guardian. The mission, "The Great Task," it turns out is to bring the lady who, along with her lover, stole her father's identity by making off with papers that proved her father to be the as-yet unknown heir to a large and renowned English estate, to justice.

What I find disappointing here is that, where the first story was all about momentous and life-changing _actions_, in this second one Mr Cox is happy to do a lot of _telling_. He describes the beautiful Evenwood estate that is at the heart of the novel with inspiration, but at the climax of the book, the protagonist is simply _told_ a number of secrets the crux of which she'd never been privy to. Granted these secrets are immense (the true identity of her father, that she'd always known him, in disguise, that he still lives, etc.), but the need to explain it all rather than rather than show it in action leaves the story a little flat. This is a linear tale, and all quite predictable; all of the moments when the reader starts thinking, "Oh, this is it; this is where the crap hits the fan," just peter out and become nothing more than character exploration. It's not a bad book, but it should not be considered a sequel. Here's hoping Mr Cox goes back to the inspired trappings of the first book.

*Poem*

Chalkboard Dust

About a year after I moved to Seattle

with a girlfriend, I found myself

on the phone begging her to take me back.

"Could you see your way to having

me back?" I asked timidly.

Seeing as how I was the one that left her

to begin with, she delicately declined.

All the years I lived on the west coast

I tried to make it my own, over and over,

tried and always failed miserably.

I know now, after many a tribulation,

that I am very much not a west-coast person.

You can take the kid out of the city

but you can't take the city out of the kid.

Every group of friends I had out there,

folks I thought could be my people,

and most of all my own marriage,

all set to flight on the wind

and disintegrated around me like so much

chalkboard dust. When I wonder what

I can keep from nearly 20 years of struggle

I find it is only this: I survived.

*Quotations*

When I first wanted to be a writer, I learned to write prose by reading poetry.

--Nicholson Baker

[My prose is eternally infused with poetry.]

A sad soul can kill you quicker, far quicker, than a germ.

--John Steinbeck

[If you consider this: is a prisoner, say, in his own body, really alive?]

The walls we build around us to keep sadness out also keep out the joy.

--Jim Rohn

Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.

--Henry W Longfellow

It's easy to cry when you realize that everyone you love will reject you or die.

--Chuck Palahniuk

Anger is just a cowardly extension of sadness. It's a lot easier to be angry at someone than it is to tell them you're hurt.

--Tom Gates

Do you know most of the Jewish songs have the same trend of sadness as Negro spirituals?

--Mahalia Jackson

Everything's complicated, even those things that seem flat in their bleakness or sadness.

--Nick Hornby

Sadness is but a wall between two gardens.

--Kahlil Gibran

Sorrow is one of the vibrations that prove the fact of living.

--Antoine de Saint-Exupery

*Music*

David Gray's Draw the Line sheerly rocks. This is a record you'll want to turn up loud. Gray's evocative vocals are spot-on throughout. He has everything in here, backup singers, choirs, piano, strings, raunchy guitars; about the only thing lacking is electronica. As such, this record is more about rock n roll than any of his records in some time. This is a record about lost and unrequited love (of course), and about hopes in the face of the bleak. You won't want to miss it.

Likewise, the latest Decemberists recording is resolutely from an orchestral rock band. They keep getting better, and Hazards of Love is of the same high-caliber of their last, The Crane Wife; my impression is it's even more straight-up rock n roll, though the Decemberists have a unique take on what rock n roll is all about. You will find an array of sounds on this record, female vocals, accordions, distorted guitars, etc. Another album you won't want to miss, especially if you're a fan.

Peace love and ATOM jazz