A Link

State Street too.

Published in: on March 26, 2012 at 9:00 am  Leave a Comment  

You are being followed

Since Bloglines was taken over, I have not had a new spot to collect my blog feeds.  But those days are over.  I am slowly getting my favorite blogs transfered to a new rig that will work on the phone and the laptop.

Don’t look behind you because I’ll be following you.  And you know who you are.

Published in: on November 1, 2011 at 10:59 am  Leave a Comment  

On blogging part 1000

I miss blogging–a lot. But the only way I think I can do it henceforth is by doing it on my iPhone. A pity, since I can’t say much because of my typing skills.

Yet one feels the need to babble. And who knows, I might just get better at thumb typing–and babbling too.

Published in: on October 20, 2011 at 9:32 pm  Leave a Comment  

Nice one, WordPress

Dear WordPress,

Your web page works very well with my iPad now.

Many thanks!

Lynn

Published in: on November 12, 2010 at 5:04 pm  Leave a Comment  

iPad vs. WordPress

Trying to post a blog entry to WordPress using an iPad is pretty much a waste of time.

Published in: on November 10, 2010 at 12:30 am  Leave a Comment  

Back

A honey of a day in Chicago, watching college football, and thinking I haven’t been doing much blogging, I realize I’ve been mostly reading and playing chess–a lot.. Yawn. That’s me these days.

Published in: on September 4, 2010 at 4:08 pm  Comments (2)  

IPad Test

As a test, I have decided to use my iPad for the next week instead of my laptop, except for my current writing project, to see just how useful the iPad is to me. So far I have not missed the laptop except as a device to sync and charge the iPad.

This morning I caught up on my chess games, checked on my fantasy baseball teams, read the NYTimes, caught up on some of my blog reading, which I am woefully behind, and wrote a blog post. The only problem so far is that some of the MLB.com fantasy baseball screens do not work. I suspect it is a flash issue.

And I am getting used to the two finger method of typing. Hell, I learned to type with my thumbs on the iPhone. Two index fingers on a much larger keyboard ought to be easy.

So far, so good.

Published in: on July 13, 2010 at 6:13 am  Leave a Comment  

Asleep at the wheel

A lot of people have been writing us asking, “what’s the scoop on you State Street? You don’t write; you don’t call. You aren’t in love again? That would be so icky.” No, we are not in love again. We just abandoned ourselves to Non-Euclidean geometry during the long dreary winter months.

We’ll be back again shortly. And not just when we fall in love again.

Published in: on May 7, 2009 at 7:25 pm  Leave a Comment  

Prelude to a deluge?

OK, we have been suffering from writer’s block at State Street, also known as laziness.  Maybe, just maybe, it is over.

Published in: on March 24, 2009 at 11:23 am  Leave a Comment  

Castaway

Last night, I started reading Burton Raffel’s recent translation of Stendahl’s The Red and the Black. It seemed almost an entirely new and better book from the first translation I read of it. I am an imperceptibly different person since I read it the first time. The text tempts me more. Desire takes hold.

My writing in the morning goes better than it has since summer began. It burdens me less and is no longer loathsome. The way I feel about my writing too often mirrors the way feel about myself. Some days, I absolutely need the writing to go well.

My feelings about reading and writing go hand in hand too. Neither work well unless they work well together. I recall reading Stendahl’s Charterhouse of Parma several years ago. I made several attempts to get into it, but always found it silly. Then the love story captured my imagination. I couldn’t put it down until I finished and even then I was tempted to immediately start reading it again. I recollect those days with Stendahl were days of good writing.

I am returning to a place I like: writing in the morning with a sense of peace and tranquility and purpose. Then reading a good book after the writing is done. The construction work on the new building across the street does not disturb me. The pounding almost comforts me as an antidote to a silence I do not want.

For me, writing means writing lots of words I must eventually throw away. I guess that is why I like writing this blog, even though I regret much of what I have written. I move on each day to a destination unknown. Writing intensifies and mutes desires in an almost contradictory manor. I don’t worry much about throwing words away.

At this time, I want to objectify rather than feel much at all. The passions are something to be studied rather than lived.

Anyway, the morning’s been spent. The petty challenges of the afternoon and evening await me. Then tomorrow comes with another couple of challenges. But after that…

Published in: on December 11, 2008 at 1:40 pm  Leave a Comment  

Narrating the blog

One of the things I am doing today is creating a narrative that explains my actions and beliefs. I do it each day. The narrative is integral to keeping my sanity. Yet creating this narrative is mundane, for we all do it incessantly as part of our human nature.

Given these ever shifting narratives we make for ourselves, one asks, “where is the border between fact and fiction?” especially on blogs. What I do not say on this blog constitutes fiction as much as fact and reality. I do not want you to know my full story. I want you to fill in the missing pieces. Maybe, you will create something more flattering about me than the reality of the missing pieces.

I have a friend who has asked many times to read my writing. I referred him to this blog. This year he finally read some of it. His comment was that it seemed incoherent and he did not understand what I was talking about. Of course, jumping in at the end of a long narrative that has changed over the many years of writing this blog will seem incoherent. For instance, who would understand my writing about V if they had not read my writing here before I met her?

I am more than condemned to be free (if such I am), I am condemned to narrate regardless of the actual state of my freedom. It comes naturally to me.

Published in: on October 31, 2008 at 11:15 am  Comments (4)  

Voices

We all have different voices and personae we show the world as facades masking what goes on indoors. I know, that is not shocking or imaginative to say. An acquaintance at the bar has said on several occasions he does not read my blog because he finds my writing pretentious and not at all like the voice I present at the bar, which he finds much more interesting. Well, he is correct in one way. My “bar” voice is different than this voice that rambles round my head when I am at home alone. However, he is one of those people who expects me to listen to him with me merely giving him a wink and a nod for recognition and comprehension, so his critique does not much matter to me.

Let’s face it. This blogging time is a private time when I can speak a whole sentence without being rudely interrupted. It puts a much needed and sincere smile on my face. 🙂

Published in: on August 25, 2008 at 10:11 am  Leave a Comment  

Possibly pathetic

You might find it pathetic, but my favorite thing to write is this blog. What writer can resist instant publishing? Answer the question truthfully, writers.

Published in: on August 25, 2008 at 9:48 am  Leave a Comment  

note to self

Never try write a lengthy blog entry using the mobile phone: postcards only. For one, it’s easier

Published in: on August 19, 2008 at 3:37 pm  Leave a Comment  

on blogging

Many times, we blog for several years before we find our blogging groove, whether for good or ill. Our grooves show themselves as our personae, voices, and the warts on our bodies as we stand naked for the world to inspect. (Of course, we also strive, at times, to display an angelic self.)

Our blogs lie somewhere between the holy books and the devil’s siren song. Yet these blogs are ours. We cherish them.

Published in: on July 29, 2008 at 2:45 pm  Comments (2)  

Revolt, love, reverence, and trust

I now see I have been experimenting with publishing some highly personal details of my life in this blog since the beginning of the year. Yet it has not been a diary or journal, for I wrote with an audience in mind. Many details that would appear in a diary not meant for public consumption do not appear on the blog. I don’t know if I could write my raw emotions and do them justice. I have tried at times but failed.

I do not reread my blog entries. However, I will go back to when I met V and make sure all the entries that were about her get placed in the V category. Those entries interest me most.

A white heat burns inside me ignited by my emotional attachment to V. I would like to describe that heat in a larger context. Although I am a skeptic, I firmly believe life has a larger meaning than desire: something along the existential dimensions of love, reverence, and trust.

System building in philosophy is dead. System building survives in the sciences and hangs on in the large religions. Somewhere, outside those system builders, philosophy survives, but can it survive if the individual herself or her reflection upon the “feeling of what happens” have no place in philosophy?

We are all philosophical in our unique ways. Life forces philosophical reflection upon us, whether we like it or not. That is always a recurring theme in my life. I must try to make sense of events and my feelings about them. Whether events are small or short lived, or volcanic eruptions within the soul does not seem to matter when it comes to reflection and the strange desire to know.

The entries in this blog this year come more from passion than deliberation about what I ought to write. I almost see it as fate stirring my desires, then resigning me to accept much less than I hoped. I am glad I wrote it down. I am glad some have read the entries. It means a lot that someone somewhere actually read me this year.

I have revolted this year in my own paltry way. I wanted to make room for the genuine: especially love. The revolution is small and unnoticed. It is not complete. I cannot let things stand as the do now. I must have completion even if it means a failed project.

Yet it might be true: there is no finish line.

Published in: on July 24, 2008 at 10:58 am  Leave a Comment  

Mush

These words, scrambled mush that they are, might still speak of the genuine and be sincere.

Published in: on July 9, 2008 at 11:11 am  Leave a Comment  

The tough, poetry, and mobile blogging

My Dearest State Street Readers,

When the going gets tough and the noise from the construction sites have given the tough a migraine headache by noon, the tough take a favorite poetry anthology in hand, and get the Hell out of Dodge. And what better book to take than A Book of Luminous Things edited with commentary by Czeslaw Milosz?

Oh, I discovered WordPress mobile blogging yesterday. It ain’t fancy. Mostly suitable for postcards sent from an iPhone or such. But we don’t feel like writing, or reading for that matter, any long thing. We are just too strung out. We might be mobile blogging live for awhile at State Street.

Let’s stay in touch.

Love,

Lynn

Published in: on June 25, 2008 at 12:13 pm  Comments (1)  

Breakfast, etc.

Coffee, cigarettes, potato chips, and Budweiser was my breakfast. By the way, Budweiser is not the name of anything but a beer. The brand name was coined because it was thought to appeal to Americans and German immigrants both. It worked.

God, I am so totally fucked. I mean, a grown man writing this shit down for people to read.

Published in: on June 25, 2008 at 10:58 am  Leave a Comment  

The Creek

I am a little mystified by my blogging experience. Somedays, I like doing it. Other times, I wish I had not tried to keep as much of a daily pace I have these past four years. I feel it my duty to write something each day no matter how trivial, vacuous, and vapid. The days I don’t, I feel I have shirked my duty.

This blog has also turned more personal than I ever intended. My experience is that this happens to most bloggers despite their intentions. However, this blog is not as personal as you might think. It is not a diary where everything gets written.

Falling in love with V this year has changed the blog. I tend to write about what is at the top of my mind at the moment. She has been at the top of my mind since the beginning of February. I have enjoyed writing about us more than anything else I have written here.

My writing has been spontaneous and a first coat of varnish. I don’t let something sit waiting for several coats of polish. I don’t apologize for that. Spontaneity has its charm too.

Every now and then, I wonder what it would have been like to have tried to reach a broader audience and have tried more seriously to view things from nowhere. As paltry as it might be, this blog is a piece of me I have shown the world for better or ill. I don’t open up easily to strangers or casual acquaintances. People must read the text of my blog to know me, for I have no desire to give biographical details on the sidebar. Maybe, I am making excuses for my writing laziness right now. Even if I am, I am almost certain I won’t change the way this thing has been going, unless an unconscious turn happens.

So, I will keep this thing going like the meandering creek it is. I will keep it going because I need someone standing along the creek’s banks and enjoying the stream’s bubble and burble if only briefly before they move on to more substantial waters.

Published in: on June 13, 2008 at 8:07 am  Comments (6)  

Beautiful mongrel

The perfect blog post consists of a report from the edge of reality mated with poetry to create an impotent mongrel beautiful in its spare ugliness and its essential propositions only the imagination can prove.

Published in: on June 3, 2008 at 12:16 pm  Leave a Comment  

Money shot

Yeah, we all need someone we can dream on
And if you want it, you can dream on me
Yeah, we all need someone we can cream on
And if you want it, you can cream on me

You can cum all over me

Let It Bleed, Rolling Stones

It has cooled; fog lies at ground level and seeps through the balcony door. Books feel cool and damp. Let It Bleed plays on the radio. It is another day signifying nothing, yet pregnant with everything, unless the seed has been spilled outside the vaginal passage. The money shot just might be the the image for our time. Watch enough money shots and that is the only thing that fulfills your desire even if you are gloriously in love.

Philosophy texts, novels, poetry books, mathematics texts, and the current bestsellers for a week loaned by friends spill about the room like the cum from one large grand money shot.

Published in: on June 3, 2008 at 11:45 am  Comments (3)  

The Internet has bewitched me

I do not start my days early enough.  First, I must manage my three fantasy baseball teams.  Then I make chess moves against my Internet opponents.  After that, I read the New York Times online, concentrating on the book reviews.  Next comes Arts & Letters Daily with its wealth of articles, essays, opinions, and book reviews culled from across Internet publications.  I finish the morning ritual by reading the blogs I like best.

Finally, I get to my own writing.  My mind has already been tugged a dozen different ways from it by what I have read before opening up a blank screen and trying to fill it with words.  The latest book I am reading sits too close to the computer.  I struggle not to look at it let alone open it and start reading.

I might go back to doing some writing on the manual typewriter.  The computer will be shut down and not within reach.  I will purify myself from this deluge of information and Internet activity for a short spell each day.

Published in: on April 8, 2008 at 11:05 am  Leave a Comment  

Slow down cycle

V reminds me I have not been blogging much.  I spent another weekend with her, so that pleasantly slows things down on the weekend.  But let’s face it, we don’t always have much to say at State Street.  Does it matter?  I still like writing this blog; I suppose it does.

Published in: on April 7, 2008 at 4:25 pm  Leave a Comment  

The journal called State Street

I was startled to discover the other day that State Street has survived for three and one half years. I fear to go back and read those entries from its beginning. It has undergone many changes in subject and tone since I started. I regret parts of State Street, yet I am not ashamed of it when I was at my best.

State Street has turned wildly personal now. I was about ready to give up State Street at the beginning of the year until I met V. She asked me for the address of it so she could read something when she was bored at work. Now, these posts, in their paltry way, are a labor of love because she reads them. Almost overnight V has dispelled my lonely years of longing. Fate is sometimes our bane, yet also presents us with our greatest joys.

Published in: on March 14, 2008 at 11:53 am  Comments (3)