face-lift

You've probably noticed the massive face-lift I gave to this blog, unless you're as blind as this:

If you are that blind, the face-lift comment was probably insensitive. But on the upside, you'll never know it!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the changes to the blog. They were much needed, and help to dull my embarrassment at the horribly unprofessional look I had with this blog. A social-media guru I am not. I'm sure I'm still doing many things wrong, but hopefully I'm getting closer . . . ?

You may enjoy looking at some of the sections I added. They're all explained when you click on the tabs. Hopefully, more is to come in the future days. Thanks for reading! Any comments or suggestions on the new look?

Patrick Rothfuss kisses a llama.

Wherein one of my favorite author's kisses a llama. For charity.

Also, here's a link to HIS blog post about it:Pat kissing llamas

Silent Night

So, my college did a thing. Actually, we've been doing it for thirty years; a pretty cool thing, in fact. If I have my facts straight, ESPN has actually named it as a top-ten college sports traditions in America, and they send guys to film it each year, which is pretty cool. My residence floor usually gets special notice by the camera people, cause we're crazy.

What is the thing? It's called Silent Night, a Taylor tradition where, for the basketball game played at home during the weekend before finals, practically EVERY student on campus shows up to spectate, most in full costume . . . and no one says anything. Nope; for ten points, it's completely silent. No clapping, no cheering, no drama. BUT YOU SHOULD SEE THAT TENTH POINT. Craziness ensues, with students mobbing the courts and everyone screaming and they actually pause the game for us. Eventually we return to the sidelines, but we don't stop screaming before the end of the game, at which time we all file over to the dining commons for Christmas cookies and karaoke, and President Habecker's wife reads us the story of Christ's birth.

Here's a cbs sports article about Silent Night: http://www.cbssports.com/collegebasketball/eye-on-college-basketball/24869579/taylor-universitys-silent-night-gives-us-another-memorable-moment.
In the videos, you might notice a swarm of yellow-and-black clad figures buzzing the court . . . that's my floor. Naw, we're not firemen; we're supposed to be bees. We're fun like that.

Anyway, it's a pretty cool tradition. Along with the craziness, this year a group of students also held up signs saying #blacklivesmatter, in recognition of all that's going on in Ferguson. I'm proud of my school for using the publicity to present a stance on things, and also to enjoy themselves and enjoy the insanity.

And here's a longer video of last year's Silent Night

the Word

the Word 

There once was a man with a silver sword 

Who whispered an almost forgotten word. 

The word grew loud though the man didn’t shout 

Soon other men tasted it inside their mouths. 

The word spread wide like a poisonous cough 

Till the king of the land had heard it enough. 

He built a great fire and burnt the black word 

And he slaughtered the man with the silver sword. 

But the word whispered soft from among the flames 

Twisted with smoke, all faded and gray. 

Throughout the wide kingdom, the word was heard 

And no man could kill that absurd little word. 

The word became twisted the further it grew 

It rotted and blistered near all the way through. 

But the green heart remained with the sap of the word 

Till along one day came a silver sword. 

It pierced the word to its greenwood heart 

And discerned the root of the word’s many parts. 

And they say that the word will be whispered again 

By the man at the desk with the silver pen.

Dactyl

No, not that kind of Dactyl. Thanks to Alex Mellen (http://amediting.blogspot.com/) for reminding me to make this pun.

Have I told you about my Creative Writing class? It's wonderful. Professor Bowman is one of my favorites; a youngish man (mid 30's?) with messy brown hair swept off to one side, who wears worn suit-jackets with jeans and beige button-downs. Sometimes, the jackets have elbow patches. Those are my favorite days.

He's a poet who also knows about other forms of writing, especially creative nonfiction, so the poetry sections are always especially interesting. Today, he discussed various elements of rhyme and meter. All the professor's chatter inspired my muse to start musing, so, while he talked, I scribbled a quick poem in my notebook, which went something like this:

Dance on the graves of the ocean of snakes as they wriggle about your knees,
Shoot down the moon on the guardian's tomb in the forest without any trees.

Take all the fire of the hearthrug's desire as you turn it all cold and gray,
And hear ye the bleat of the murderous sheep while the shepherd is away.

"I want you to write a structured poem," Professor Bowman said, interrupting my scribblings. "Use one of the poetic forms I just talked about. Every time I give this exercise, some students say that working with a structure is really frustrating for them, and others say that it's really freeing."

As I observed the lines I'd just jotted down, a sneaking suspicion took me. So, I measured the rhythm, and found that, sure enough, I'd already completed the exercise. The poem I'd just written was a dactyl, with a few deviant syllables.

Dactyls take the form of one stressed syllable followed by two unstressed syllables, such as the word longitude. Lon-gi-tude. Get it? So, in my poem (/ stands for stressed; ^ stands for unstressed):

      /      ^   ^        /      ^   ^    /    ^   ^      /      ^     ^      /    ^    ^   /      ^        ^
Dance on the graves of the ocean of snakes as they wriggle about your knees,

Get it now? I think that's correct, except the last line of the poem isn't a correct dactyl, I don't think, and I adjusted the other lines very slightly to fit. But you get the idea. I find it interesting that I used this form without intending it, or even knowing what it was. Seems as if the ideas of meter and rhythm are wired into us, created by the proliferation of music and poetry that we're bombarded with on a daily basis.

Apologies

My apologies, friends, for the long absence of words.  I promise, they will return someday, and we will all rejoice.  In the meantime, watch this hilarious video: Animator vs. Animation IV.  Possibly my favorite video of the internet.

What excuses can I give to garner your forgiveness?  School has been crazy.  Life has been crazy.  But, if I was truly dedicated to this blog, it's not actually crazy enough to keep me from posting.  I suppose I'm just not dedicated enough, although I enjoy sharing my stories, and I've been working on other writing projects.

Another reason for my absence: most publishing venues count blogs as real publications, and so if a publication stipulates that it only accepts unpublished work (as many do), then anything I share to this blog can't be submitted to more credible options.  That's a big drain, and most projects I'm currently working on are for magazines or contests of that sort.  Even so, if I actually get work published, then I (tentatively) promise to post it here, after!

Enjoy your lives!  I'll try to get something up eventually.

My future.

This is my future, people.  Note: I was in no way involved with the creation of this comic.  The proper website can be viewed by clicking on the link.

I did not make it.  I live it.

http://poorlydrawnlines.com/comic/the-difference/