In Protest of SOPA/PIPA: A Little Friendly Vandalism

I just devised a little prank that may be used to further awareness of SOPA/PIPA. (Nevermind my er, future plans for this).

1. Upload several plain black images to Facebook.

2. Tag ‘em. Any tagged friends-except those with (understandably) high privacy settings–will get a”censored” photo on their profile page album.

3. BONUS POINTS Caption the photo to explain why it was censored. Maybe one of you was wearing a mickey mouse shirt. Maybe you were watching a music video. Maybe you’re at Disneyland.*

*Why all the Disney hate? Google the Copyright Term Extension Act sometime.

Our ordinary Measures / Of Distance – fail us -

Last spring, I studied Emily Dickinson in-depth at Columbia College Chicago (thanks to Dr. Karen Osbourne for that wonderful experience). I focused mainly on Dickinson’s interest in science.

In this context, I watched Carl Sagan’s “Cosmos,” and found amazing similarities between Sagan’s and Dickinson’s appreciation of the scientific beauty in nature.  I began to take down quotes that struck me as particularly Dickinson-esque, and transcribed them in her style.

Today is Carl Sagan day, so I’ve arranged a few of his words in a way that echoes Dickinson.

Our ordinary measures of Distance – fail us.

The cosmos is full – beyond measure -
Of elegant Truths -
And exquisite interrelationships.

Music of cosmic Harmonies -
Perfect – as a snowflake -
Organic – as a dandelion seed -
It will carry us to worlds of Dreams
And worlds of Facts.

The Surface of the Earth
Is the Shore of the cosmic Ocean -
Ankle-deep – and the Water seems inviting.

This is where we came from -
and we long to return.
We’re Made – of Star-stuff.
We are a way for the Cosmos
To know itself.

We float – like a Mote of Dust -
In the morning Sky.
Our ordinary Measures
Of Distance – fail us -
Here in the Realm of the Galaxy.

Galaxies are born, they live – and die -
A tumultuous Adolescence -
Their cores may explode,
Seen in radiographs.
Great jets of energy – Echo
Across the cosmos.

In the Pegasus cluster – there’s a Ring -
A splash – in the cosmic Pond.

A swarm of Bees – bound by gravity -
Every bee – a sun,
its Spiral arms – slowly turning.

Worlds of ice – and stars of Diamond,
Atoms – as massive as Suns -
Universes – Smaller than Atoms -

Dr. Who and the Talons of Weng-Chiang

The most frightening face.

The Changing Land

Roger Zelazny, The Changing Land, 1981.

I love everything about that horse.

The Monkey and the Fish

At the new house, I’ve had the pleasure of keeping a small garden. It’s therapeutic for me because it’s something that’s easy and rewarding to take care of.

Recently, I had overwatered the basil and it was getting a little droopy. So I opted to let the soil dry out for a few days.

I think the monkey looks guilty, don't you? (image from epSos.de)

On this hot, sunny day, I come home to find the topsoil freshly moistened. I think that I must be imagining things, but I see that the seedlings were neglected (when I water, I really get those little guys), and the soil near the hose is also moist. I have not watered the garden in three days.

Who watered it? T doesn’t deal with the garden–the only person who could have done this would be a neighbor or passer-by who might have thought that the droopy plants were dried out instead of soggy, and took it upon themselves to help out by watering. On one hand, this is considerate, but on the other it is prideful and a bit controlling. This person thought that they knew my garden needed watering, and acted upon that idea. I appreciate the gesture, but in the end I had to do extra work because of it.

I’m irked, but it’s hard to be mad at someone who meant well. The overwatered plants were easy to transplant, and they’ll probably survive. All this fuss reminded me of an Eastern parable I picked up from James Shea while I was studying poetics. The translation varies, but it essentially goes like this:

Here, let me help you,
said the monkey
as he put the fish in the tree.