Here is a link to a site entitled “Poulpe Pulps,” poulpe being the French word for octopus and pulps referring to–of course–pulp fiction. Because why wouldn’t someone collect (and post online) covers of pulp fiction novels that have octopi on them? Really, there’s no good reason not to.
Uncategorized
Weekend Report
Things I did:
1. Visited Blue Moon Ranch in Woodland which is a REAL LIVE ALPACA RANCH. I learned all about alpacas for an hour an a half. Then I bought some yearn, spun from Minnie.
2. Hiked up to Hidden Peak (in under three hours, with my dad), topped the ridge, saw the view to the east–nothing but more mountains and blue air–and thought of the first two lines from “Praise to the End!”, one of my favorite Roethke poems. I looked up the other two lines this morning.
Arch of air, my heart’s original knock,
I’m awake all over:
I’ve crawled from the mire, alert as a saint or a dog;
I know the back-stream’s joy, and the stone’s eternal pulseless longing.
Of course, I forgot my camera for both trips (the picture of Minnie is from the Blue Moon Ranch website). And there were baby alpacas.
Less-Manic Friday Post of Unrelated Information
Some things I’ve been thinking about this morning:
1. Hiking up Hidden Peak at Snowbird on Monday and taking the tram down.
2. What happened to Amelia Earhart? Basic theories, courtesy of Wikipedia and National Geographic.
3. A new knitting project, maybe.
4. Alpacas.
A Late Post of A Knitted Creature
(Sorry about no picture yesterday. It was visible on my machine at work, but I heard it still didn’t come up. This picture that works is from knitty.com, a good site if you can knit.)
Words to Live By
Haikai
Yes, that’s the plural form of “haiku”. There ends my knowledge of Japanese. Since it was so hot last night, here’s something from Issa, whose name translates to “a bubble in brewing tea.” (Maybe you shouldn’t take my word for it, though.)
Under a full moon
yet still not cool:
the straw mat.
And, for good measure, here’s something from the SPAM haiku site, going strong since 1998. This is number 48, and incorporates hobos, too.
Sing the hobo’s blues:
SPAM for breakfast, SPAM for lunch,
SPAM for dinner, too.
It’s Monday and We All Know What That Means
And there’s even a word of the day: hebdomadal (heb-DOM-a-dul, adjective). It means “weekly” and comes from late Latin hebdomadalis, from Greek hebdomas, hebdomad- ‘the number seven, seven days,’ from hepta ‘seven.’
So one could say Cute Kitten Pictue Day is a hebdomadal event.
Happy Bastille Day!
Liberte, egalite, fraternite!
(Sorry, I can’t make an accent ague in this program.)
Speaking of France, here’s a series of images that superimpose Star Wars characters onto Parisian scenes–very French and futuristic.
Raymond Chandler Fix
I picked up The Big Sleep again last night and poked through it. This is from the first chapter, right after Marlowe gets done telling us what he’s wearing (including socks with dark-blue clocks on them): “I was neat, clean, shaved and sober, and I didn’t care who knew it.”
Fact that you probably already knew: Chandler was British. Here he is:
Roommate update: He’s much better. Not dancing any jigs yet, but better.
Two Random Quotes
First, sorry to disappoint all six of you who read this with no post yesterday. There was a slight emergency with the roommate, but nothing some muscle relaxers won’t fix.
I was going to post these two quotations yesterday. They popped into my head for no known reason. The first is Hemingway, from The Garden of Eden; the second was from a college friend.
Quote 1:
“What makes your martinis better than everyone elses, David?” Catherine asked.
“Gin,” he replied.
Quote 2:
“I endure it like I endure locusts.”
(I foreget now what ‘it’ referred to. But I’ve always remebered the analogy.)