Published October 2, 2002 | 
The Snow Man
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
—Wallace Stevens
posted in honor of the author’s 123d birthday
Published October 2, 2002 | Equal-Opportunity Scum
In the spirit of justice, I wish to announce:
Bob Torricelli (D, NJ) is a greedy, lying, whiny fool.
I just don’t see the point of sectarian squabbling. The real struggle isn’t Republicans versus Democrats, or even politicians versus people, though there are days that seems to be the case. It’s each of us against our own willingness to exploit others. And yeah, I know I’m being judgmental here. For all I know, Torricelli is a sterling character in every other way. But jeez!
Published October 2, 2002 | I Would Feel So Much Better If I Thought This Story Was Satire
The Onion | Bush Seeks U.N. Support For ‘U.S. Does Whatever It Wants’ Plan
Published October 1, 2002 | Writing Well Is the Best Revenge
Dorothy Allison at the Maui Writers’ Conference, as reported by Pat Holt:
“I tell each of these writers, ‘I believe in the power of storytelling to give you a shape to your own life that you can stand. I believe in what it means to have no loved version of your life but the one you make. And I believe in writing that allows you to become the hero — not just survivor — of your own experience.’
“Working with young writers who have never had a childhood or adolescence, sometimes I tell them, ‘The thing you need to do is write it, then step outside of it and look back at it.’
“This is part of the nuts/bolts section of a writers conference. I believe in writing for revenge and the hope of justice — hell, justice is simply revenge cleaned up.”
. . . .
“Before I’m done I’m going to make them write this same story in the voice of the person who hurt them most. I’m going to make them look out of the eyes of evil. Why? My mama nature would never allow me to do this to a grown woman or man or child or dog. But I’ll do it to someone who wants to be a writer. Because I know no other way to get far enough out of the story — your real, lived experience — and make it over.”
. . . .
Part of why we love books is when we read something that makes us weep and sing. When we are completely devastated but still convinced of the power and joy of life.
“The very best stories — the very best translations of the real — touch that place where we can barely stand it. But when we do stand it, we are taken to a new place, and I as a reader want always to be taken to that new place.”