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July 25, 2005

the asshole is back

At this point I believe I have broken 90% of the Ten Commandments. Murder doesn't have a check-mark next to it yet, but it's a long life. Do we understand each other, Seattle drivers?

You know what this means. That's right. I, Asshole is back, with her very own domain. It's iasshole.ORG, by the way, not iasshole.COM. Some dillweed company brought every thinkable domain name with the 'i' in front of it, including anything vaguely porn-y when the whole iLife, iMac, etc. craze came out. They're iFuckers.

Thanks to Ben for offering her hosting and helping me set up an environment for Movable Type 3.1, thanks to me for putting in countless hours turning paper cutouts into an XHTML design and spending over four hours pulling out about 4000 comment spams from her old installation so I could export her archives (yay, Vaginabreakers!, yay, I Heart Boys).

And finally, thanks to Asshole, for breastfeeding her little spawns in the office while I tweaked CSS and asked her dumb questions about the color and thanks to Asshole for doing her good writing. That's what made me volunteer to spend lots of unpaid dev hours on bringing I, Asshole up. Oh yeah, and cause I love her.

July 24, 2005

another sister poem: "for d"

I reread through the Elisabeth poems today, had to share this one:

This is good shit, people, when you're doing nothing but meditating for a year you get deep into shit I guess.

In case you're wondering...I'm D, and yes she really did scream FUCK YOU at me the day she took refuge and became a Buddhist, and yes, I most certainly deserved it.

"For D"

the handle broke off the mug you gave me
nothing to hold onto
there is nothing to hold onto

certainly you dwell in the inner
chamber of my heart
cut off from prying eyes
shielded in anonymity
they can't see you
but your home is here
you said, "Take care of yourself!"
and I screamed, "FUCK YOU!"
this was the day I became Buddhist
a heart exapnds and contracts
many times in one lifetime
perhaps you have felt alternately
dangled and squeezed
but you were never ousted outright
home is home, after all
this indestructible heart will house you
through all of our wanderings
"hacking it out in El Samsaro"
for as long as we remain confused
until the moment of waking into freedom
when an ordinary human heart
cannot contain the depth and breadth
of all the world's knowing and burning
at that time
dwelling nowhere
we will pervade
the whole of space

July 16, 2005

another sister poem: the daughters i'll never have

Another poem written by my lovely sister in retreat was requested, so I think I will post one of my favorites. It's called

Registry of Names for the Daughters I'll Never Have

The Good Girls The Artists Won't be Around to Hate Me Later
Xyla (Zi-La)

July 15, 2005

the origins of modern monogamy

A nice, simple, short overview of monogamy and polyamory in Judeo-Christian history. A pretty damn levelheaded discussion in the comments as well, considering how incendiary the subject matter can be.

via the blog of local pro-domme Mistress Matisse.

July 14, 2005

bush's brain tumor

Can't help but read about Karl Rove...an issue hovering on the edge of whether it really is an issue or not. Salon and other news sources had a billion non-stories about how, yes, the White House is still stonewalling as they buy time to find some way to spin this, or at least let it drop off the radar.

I was curious about what the Conservative buzz about all this was...I had no doubt that there was a huge amount of indignation at all the unified negative attention this is getting from the press. Finally I found this great Washington Post article/blog entry about all the Rove hubbub. It does a great job of summarizing a group of different arguments and putting them in context. I think people of the "hang Rove immediately" camp and the "fucking liberal media" camp should both read this article to help normalize your viewpoint and put it in perspective.

After a year or so of Google news, I'm beginning to really respect the Washington Post as a damn fine news source. Salon is cool, but perhaps a bit more prone to publishing five articles with exactly the same viewpoint and subject matter.

July 6, 2005

poetry reprisal revue

This last christmas, I wrote a special poetry Christmas card for all my friends and family (and even sent it to the one person who could even remotely qualify as an enemy). You can download the .pdf (with the illustrations, it's about 400k) here. However, one of the poems was called Ragged, Joyful, and it goes something like this:

Ragged, Joyful

I�m a ragged joyful lonely man
am finally a man (damn, I am!)

All my cooking skills devolved
to peanut butter sandwiches
in my warm quiet house.

Everything here is where I left it.

Including the laundry.

My broken parts crackle in a chair
reading novels about old men with broken dreams.

Now I�m riding a bike.
Mostly avoiding such impact.

At least I quit smoking
and reading too much into meaningful looks
and started praying again.

To my great surprise, a month or so later, my sister, who is in three-year retreat in upstate New York, wrote me a similar chapbook, which I may yet publish, or write a sentence longer than this one.

The point though, is that she wrote a reprisal to my poem, in the style of a Tibetan Buddhist nun. Even by myself in a room as I read it, I could not disguise my explosion of delight at reading it:

Ragged, Joyful Reprise

I'm a ragged joyful lonely nun
well, almost a nun (shouldn't jump the gun)

All my social skills devolved
to concise notes scrawled
in the brief spaces between.

Everything here is how I make it.

Including the tormas.

My broken parts cartwheel in my consciousness
reading namtars about old yogins who conquered craving.

Now I'm 'riding the horse of diligence'

Mostly falling off a lot.

At least I quit speaking
and reading so much into my own delusion
and started to feel my heart again.

As if that wasn't enough, I wrote an poem called we each have our own faithless jewels. A damn sad poem, it goes like this:

we each have our own faithless jewels

we each have our own faithless jewels

our own habits we won't admit
our own restlessness we won't fight
our own justice we hope will be performed
our own beasts with meat juice on their lips

who has more secret hurts?
surely she is the winner.
who was helped or healed the most?
surely he is lost.

And then, incredibly, in the comments, a dear friend of mine from Colorado wrote another reprisal of a poem of mine! It's a silly version that I think he wrote to cheer me up, but actually makes a great "other half" to the original. His killer version goes:

faithless jewels reprisal

We each have our own family jewels
our own nun's habit that doesn't fit
our own lantern we won't light
our own performance we hope to do justice
our own juicey lips with which we kiss the meat beasts

who more has hurt the secret?
Shirley, she is the winner
He who was most lost healed Shirley

I thought those poems were so sweet and touched me so deeply that I wanted to record them here.

Eventually I will publish all of the excellent poems and illustrations my sister sent me in her two tiny chapbooks since she's been in retreat. But I procrastinated doing this post since March, so don't hold your breath.

Okay, hold your breath for my sister's poetry. It's worth it.

July 5, 2005

loverzan on the brain

My three favorite pictures of Loverzan (that I took) (that I can post on the internets):

This was supposed to be for a massage brochure.  All of them were too blurry or just wrong.  I liked them.

Zan was feeling shy, but I talked her into letting me take a picture of her by telling her I would only take a picture of half her face.

A bunch of pictures in the garden...this one turned out the best.

She's good people.

July 4, 2005

two radiant boys

These are good boys. They help me. They make me feel better about being a boy.

On the left is Ben F. Sodenkamp. He's my busines partner and helps me in innumerable ways.

On the right is Andrew F. Dunloy. He's obsessed with zombies and tries to make everyone he's around feel happy and comfortable.

They both love me and show me a tremendous amount of kinship. They both ride me around on their two wheeled vehicles, which is nice, if life-threatening.

In this photo we are walking down by the river in Fremont (weeks ago, photo was in my phone) and having a very silly talk. They were very nice to pose for a photo of them with my phone-camera.

May blessings rain down upon them.