Word Invocation

I am a wordphile who suffers from logorrhea, logomania, and verbal constipation. How can that be? Easy: I love words too much and sometimes am so overwhelmed by my passion for them that I swoon and hit the edge of the coffeetable, am struck linguistically impotent, become a raving idiot.

The innumerable word relationships possible; the infinite combinations of letters; coming face to face with lexicons that creak under the strain of generations of etymylogical maps and guideposts, previously charted territory just waiting to be revisited and explored: It's a little overwhelming. (And that is the opposite of hyperbole--is the word for that simply understatement? It seems there must be a grander word than that for it!)

My vocabulary is abysmal. There are so many nuances of precision that I miss as I lumber inelegantly toward understanding. I urge myself to be more promiscuous with my language and my search for word wisdom, handle language like the well-worn currency of several nations: I'd like a larger safe, I'd like a larger account, I'd like to move up to a vault-load of currencies I can be facile with.

That is my hope, and the above is my condition, so this is my invocation to Athena and Aphrodite together: Do not let my love control me, but help me to glide with it, accept its warm caress, and allow it to (Greek goddesses willing) lead me toward wisdom and ardent engagement in an intercourse whose fruit displays both mind and heart.

(So did I just betray a lesbian love fantasy here or what?)

Sundance Slave & Dancing Outlaw

My friend Erin is working Sundance for the second year in a row. She's keeping a photo-driven, well-written blog of it this year. A gifted raconteur who shares my love of Tom Waits, this Greek lady made a documentary about Graceland Too, the largest collection of Elvis memorabilia anywhere. The guy who runs it reminds me of Jesco White, the Dancing Outlaw. (Oooooh, if you haven't heard of him, have a look-see here, and then do a Google search for more.)

Meet Erin, the Original Broad:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/original_broad/

Subway Graffiti

This is why I got a cell phone with a camera in it.


http://www.geocities.com/sloecat/graffiti/graffiti.html

Robert Fisk and the Moron Terror

I can't believe I haven't talked about Robert Fisk here before. He's the Middle Eastern correspondent for The Independent, which I started counting on for actual news soon after Bush was "elected." That was about the time I realized that some sort of unspoken gag order was holding the tongues and pens of our illustrious newsgathering services. I was disappointed that when I read the New York Times I started to feel like I'd get more honest stuff from the Weekly World News. Bat Boy in any context is more credible than W. (henceforth to be known as the "Moron Terror") as leader of the free world. Now that's sad.

But, more about Robert Fisk. He wrote a fascinating book called Pity the Nation about the state of Lebanon since the Palestinian refugees had begun to flood in. It tells another side to the Palestine-Israel conflict that not a lot of people want to hear, and it's heartbreaking. In short, he's a rare journalist who isn't afraid to present what he sees and says some controversial things, but is a breath of fresh air. He lived in Beirut for years, now he's in Iraq. I think he's still in Baghdad. He's saying things about this war that many Americans and Britons have been thinking. From the very beginning.

He's my Graham Greene, Quiet American period.

Here's a collection of his articles:

http://www.robert-fisk.com/