Ars longa, caenum facile…

 

RIP Mike McGrady – aka one-part Penelope Ashe.

“It came after a night of reading ‘Valley of the Dolls,’ ” he later told Newsweek, “which I couldn’t put down because I was asleep.”

JOB

Anxiety of Influence

So I just wrote this graf for this Surfing with Mel thing, and I’m almost sure it’s mostly ripped off from somewhere.  Help? [Language alert.]

Jesus, Joe, have you lost your nerve?  You used to enjoy pissing people off.  It was one of your strong points.  Haven’t you lived long enough to know that if people don’t like you, you’re not ever going to make them like you?  You can bend and bend and give and give until you’ve given your whole damn soul away and there’s nothing left of you but the lips you use to kiss their asses.  And the best you can hope for is that they’ll stop telling people you’re an asshole.  They might accept you, but they’ll never love you, and they’ll sure as fuck never respect you.  Because by that point, you won’t be able to respect yourself.  Stop trying to please the Jews, Joe.  We’re not making this movie to please the Jews.  If anything, we’re making this movie to convert them.

 

Okay…

…y’all heard The Beer Song down in New Orleans.  I don’t want to be in any was presumptive, but given the Kirkegaaaardian Kharakter of the Korrektiv, whaddya think of naming our eventual album Beer and Stumbling?

Dana Andrews

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Speaking of Dark Nights of the Soul…

I have an interview with Warrior director Gavin O’Connor over at the First Things website.

Panickers in the Streets (of New Orleans) Coming This October

There will be several of us hereabouts that might be feeling a bit of that old-time certifiable panic coming on because we’re purporting to deliver papers at a litter-airy conference.

In a related story, the neighborhood gets certified:

From The Moviegoer by Walker Percy (Part 1, Ch. 7)

That’s right, you can watch the entire movie right here in the Korrektiv Old Orleans Theatre. So pop some popcorn, put your feet up, gather the wife and kids around the laptop, and try not to slip clean out of existence.

Poem I Just Found in a Box

“Ode to Chocolate”
composed in 1997 at a teacher workshop, possibly as a group effort.

Shall I compare thee to vanilla cream?
Thou art more yummy and tempered.
Hot sun does ripen your bitter bean
Which in a pod is centered.

The machete which brings a sudden pain
Divides the bean from brothers.
Your tree so nurtured in a forest of rain
Surpasses any others.

I have journed (sic) to Quito, Kuala Lampur,
The shores of Madagascar
To seek the bean I so adore
The liquor you don’t buy at a bar.

Your years of silent fermentation
Prepare you for my table
We have become a “Chocolate Nation,”
We eat it when’er able.

I think that I have never seen
A nib so lovely as cacao bean.

Garrison Keillor, have your people call my people.

Sweet sidereal sidecars!

As the sun goes down and the moon comes up, as the blue skies of fortunate fade and the stars’ cold stare of fate returns, as the day disrobes and night dresses up, as someone comes in from the barn and another comes home from the world, the shout goes up for cocktail hour….

This one’s become a regular fixture here at Branch Davidian North.

Only the name is pretentious

The rest is pure flavorful bliss

And created by a guy who could quite possibly have the coolest looking beard on the planet.

H is for Hurdle. H is for Hendricks. H is for Happy.

H is for Havadrink.