I watched a very interesing, beautifully-made movie tonight:

Northfork

I remember in my first year of college — majoring in psychology — there was a rumor that B.F. Skinner kept his daughter in a box, with levers for food and such, as an experiment in conditioned response. The rumor went on that she suffered as a result, grew up and sued him. Apparently, this widespread rumor was complete baloney, according to this page at Snopes.com. The rumors of the daughter’s suicide, she says, were also exaggerated. Now you know.

The camellia bushes in my folks’ front yard are blooming again.

It’s spring, dammit, and I can do without it. I like winter; fall and winter are my favorite seasons. I prefer the gray middleage-ness of them. There is poetry in cooler weather and shorter days that is harder to find in the brash young light of spring and summer. Fountain pens and boogie boards conflict.

Check out this poem by Joe Salerno, about poetry. Here are a few lines:

it’s an art as simple as drinking water

Middle age brings it to flower.

That’s right, Joe.

Something for my buddy E …

The trouble with our younger writers is that they are all in their sixties.

— W. Somerset Maugham

spotted at Ivy is here

I’m sitting here trying to remember if I own anything green. Oh well, Happy St. Patrick’s Day anyway.

It’s a good night to call your attention to this fine blog: Awake at Dawn — Writing Journal

I especially like the poem posted today, “Photo Just Before the Twister.” Admirable quietude, with a strong emotional current.

This is not a joke. Might be spurious, specious, bobble-headed showmanship, but it’s not funny. Bill Summary & Status: A bill has been introduced in Congress, “To allow Congress to reverse the judgments of the United States Supreme Court. ”

… picked up at warblogging.

As a rule, this blog takes no positions on matters of personal proclivity. I don’t adhere to moral relativism; I’m simply no one’s judge. And I’ll reserve my thoughts on Unitarianism to post another day, if ever. But leveling a criminal charge — an action of the State — against a minister for performing any office within the rightful purview of a church, is an unconscionable violation of the 1st Amendment, up with which we should not put.

N.Y. Ministers Charged for Marrying Gays

So let our dissent and derision rain down on the bobblehead DA of Ulster County, NY. If you feel so inclined:

Donald A. Williams, District Attorney

Ulster County Courthouse

275 Wall Street

Kingston, NY 12401

Phone: (845) 340-3280

Fax: (845) 340-3185

Office Hours: 9:00 AM to 5:00 PM Mon-Fri

[web site]

Talk Left raises an interesting question.

Read Cory D’s speech on accepting Boing Boing’s Bloggie award for Best American Blog. I can’t believe that a little over a year ago, I’d never heard of a blog. But long before that, I wished for a quick, easy way to publish occasional thoughts to my Web site.

Back in December 2002, I built a page for random observations on my web site, which pretty much sucked. If not for blogging, I would have had to rebuild the page every time I accessed it, or put new posts on the bottom. Then in April ’03, the hours before I found out that there are sites like blogspot and blog-city, I experimented with uploading html and doc files.

I’d been seeing blogs around before last April, but I thought you had to incorporate them into your own site and host them from there, which I never did figure out how to do. So I’m personally grateful, not only to services like blogger, but also to people like the guys at Boing Boing and countless other blogs. Just because progress is as progress does.

I have to admit it. Though I usually consider myself an all American, burger-loving typical male, Tonya Harding just might be more man than I’ll ever be.

Probably more woman than I’ll ever need.

A couple of days ago, I stopped by my local library to return a copy of The Lovely Bones — a really fine book, which I recommend. Well, when I borrowed it, they didn’t enter that fact in the computer, and they didn’t know I had it out when the time came for me to renew it. Then when I did renew it, they tried to get me to pay a fine for a book I actually returned in 1988. I sh– you not. So when I returned The Bones on Thursday, I thought I ought to get a receipt or something. Just to cover my a–, you know?

When I asked the librarian for something showing I returned it, she looked really sad, a little annoyed. She didn’t make a point of showing it, but I could tell. She showed me on the computer where it was deleted from my account, and said, “is that good enough?” I said, “oh absolutely. Thank you.” I went on my way, thinking it was unfortunate that this person and I weren’t able, with all our mutual communication skills, to understand and trust each other. I didn’t trust her to handle the return, and she didn’t understand that I meant no offense.

The world feels dangerous these days, and who’s fault is that? Not the librarian’s. Not mine. We’ve got spammers and identity thieves, terrorists and rogue presidents, mad cows and infected chickens … And if I’ve started a pestilence of offended librarians, well, God help us all.

I am become Death, destroyer of words.

Worlds!

Same difference.