Okay, I have to make this really quick, because I’m already leaving much later than I wanted to. Leaving for what, you ask? A month-long, cross-country road trip, naturally. I made a web site for it which is where I’ll be writing exclusively for the next month (not that you expected to see anything new here). My bitchin’ Corolla is leaving Philadelphia momentarily—jump in the passenger seat!
My fourth year at Austin’s juggernaut of an interactive conference was more of a mixed bag than years past, as both I and SXSW adapted to its growing pains.
March has arrived, and since college basketball doesn’t interest me any more than a zombified messiah figure selling chocolate or an ophidiophobic Irish folk hero selling Budweiser, March means just one thing: South by Southwest. In just a few days, I will descend on Austin for nearly a week’s worth of quality time with good friends and good ideas. If you see me there, I hope you won’t hesitate to say hello. Here are some easy opportunities to do so.
I was recently involved in a music exchange with a handful of friends, in which we each put together a compilation of songs, and everyone involved got a copy of all of the compilations. Aside from giving me a good excuse to put together a fun mix, it allowed me the ever-cherished opportunity to do some unsolicited philosophizing, and I thought both were worth sharing with a larger audience.
Recently, I started wondering if I could/should get back into writing in cursive, which I haven’t done with any regularity since elementary school. I thought it might be interesting to reconnect with the way I related to language and typography in my formative years, and to see how that meshed with what I’ve learned since. So, I started scribbling out some random stuff in my sketchbook to see what would happen, and was fascinated with the results.
Dear The Monkey,
I think I swallowed a moth in my sleep. There was an antenna and/or leg on my lip when I looked in the mirror this morning. Should I be concerned? I sleep with my mouth wide open at night and it has gotten me thinking about just how much wildlife has met its demise while I slumber. I am not “creeped out” by the idea, but I do feel some remorse. Any advice/penance?
Sincerely,
Barnum
PhD thesis
steeped in baffling arcana
and fudge recipes
a comfy sofa
couldn’t sate his faineance
but sleeping pills could
The War on Terror
is more than merely zeitgeist
it’s a board game, too
many a person’s
life-changing bouleversement
was caused by Six Flags
I’m not mendacious
women dig my honesty
and my flying car
