Now That's Some Poesy
Received this morning. There's some serious pentameter happening here.
Note the telltale future date (at least for those of us on the EDT) of the spam server. Still, a thing of beauty. And so many "choces," from MXre to PXre. It's like e.e. cummings meets Barry Bonds' "nutritionist."
The title - we forgoe subtext, and we go straight... to text. And we don't dawdle. Middle East crises are never far from our minds, are they, Merle? (Sorry... merle. Gotta keep those CAPS on the down-low.) And a wicked [annotated? brilliant!] geographic travel twist to close. Look out Seamus Heaney.
Prick up your ears, people. I think I hear Nobel ringing.
Things are good here. I had two weeks of wrath of God illness, but I'm turning a corner and things are looking up. I recently bought a new bike and I've been enjoying my time back in the saddle - after having avoided riding for the better part of 15 years - when the roads and non-technical trails have been clear, anyway. It's been a lot of fun re-examining and catching up on the cycling scene after all this time. Growing up my heroes in the peleton were guys like Greg LeMond, Andy Hampsten, Steve Bauer, Bernard Hinault (okay, the whole La Vie Claire squad, and yes, I owned a team jersey). Sean Kelly, Phil Anderson, Gianni Bugno. I met Mike McCarthy (thinking a little more locally) in Central Park once. This was all pre-Lance, pre-Postal. Pre-EPO - though that wasn't far off. Different times. I'm looking forward to putting some miles in this spring and beyond. Saddle sores, here I come.
House-cleaning geek news: I made some changes to my hosting plan and essentially had my entire site moved to another shared server, which meant that everything you see here got re-uploaded. As such, a few glitches ensued. Nothing big; just slightly annoying to me. Like the timestamp on all of the entries in this section (I still resist calling it a blog, but that's what it is, I guess) got updated to the time of re-upload. And I could go back and fix them all - manually - but I'm not gonna. Because that's just a bit too OCD, even for me. The server time is now fixed on GMT, which is not necessarily a bad thing but does introduce a few sniggling little issues over which the fretting, she is not warranted (note to self: wash hands every seven minutes beginning at 11am Tuesday). Also I wrote a bunch of new mail script code in a flu-funk haze a few weeks back, because Czech-porn spammers were spoofing my mail scripts and were mass-spamming at alarming rates - sadly for some time now, apologies - and my ISP had had enough and went off on me and temporarily ROD'd my access to the Internet as such (so I could "clean my system"), and I had to take mail, and everything else for that matter, down for a while. But that's all fixed up and hopefully that hole is patched. Seems to be. Oh, and I lost all of my mail contacts in the host move, so I'll have to rebuild all of that. This mostly affects newsletter folk. And due to the Czech spam, I'm probably on your junk mail blacklist anyway. No worries. Purge. Reboot. Recompile.
What else? Got out for one last backcountry ski day on Sunday. Sucked so much wind that I created my own weather system. But it was a good day.
And... Back in the studio soon, methinks. Yes. Me do thinks.
Yeah. Good days. We see you soon.
Click to share:
From: merle si
Date: 4/10/2007 1:55 AM
To: sheffield tobias
The winter road from the St. Simeon farm
Your red cheeks radiant against the wind,
And melt the spirit; his mouth will distend
Never does any motion, sound, or light
Suddenly, in a savage, dreadful bend,
Choces, MXre and PXre, undreaming even of fields
To a higher level of appearance.
By the design of our own silent eyes
Silent patch of ultimate paint. You are
Through the back of the picture at the patch of white
Are gliding toward me on the ice into
But when, on the timepieces that we call
With a hand freed from weight,
grow hot in the parking lot, though they're
marked with a dark stroke from the left, encroached
Stunned in their voiceless way to be alive
XVIII. The Northeast and Northwest Passages
I. Further Exploration of Spitsbergen
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