othelladub's Diaryland Diary

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abraham lincoln

Setting the line height

21 years ago in San Diego

Pearl Jam was previously known as "Mookie Blaylock." Blaylock was a player, and he's still earning cash money in the balling world. Dude racked up steals in Atlanta.

Bob Lanier has big m'fin feet. He was another NBA player, a few generations back.

The link? Both were involved with the Golden State Warriers during the last few years.

Carter Beats the Devil is supposed to be a damn good read. Pete told me that Geoff Johns (screenwriter, comic-book writer) has said that the aforementioned is his favorite book right now. The writer (Glen David Gold) is married to Alice Sebold (Lucky, The Lovely Bones); they both attended UCI. There's a Trader Joe's not far from campus. They probably wandered around in there, at some point.

The campus actually seems nice, and Micheal Chabon went there.

I'm not too worried about milking my brains and bones for the maximum amount of cash I might be able to earn. Certainly, that might change if I have children, etc., but right now I have none of those responsibilities or chains. I think that family is important, but this is not a good time for me to be overexerting my selflessness.

All of the selfish, calloused folk seem to be enjoying themselves, and maybe I should join them.

Change won't break me. This house, the one constant in my life for so many years, will be gone.

I won't lose the love I have for my family. I won't submit to my father or my close friends, so as to make things easier, or simpler, or more convenient.

I will honor what I love, and work to create something. I will not put financial or familial ease ahead of artistic concerns, or the needs of my soul. The shade of the trees will calm me.

I'll be alright.

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I can't be angry. There's only so much that can be built up, before it is torn down. Feelings and instances of truth give way to wandering in the sea, as well they should. And what is true, if not the wandering?

There is truth, immutable truth - and it lies in the fluctuations of the wind, in the larks and passing fancies of people, in the happenstance accident or fortunate incident.

Depth and integrity are at war with light and harmony. The two have similar aims, but their differing methods blind us to their converging intentions. Let us not be blindly peaceful, but capable of a great depth of sadness and longing.

Maybe we are capable of growth which we can't imagine - which we can't project -which doesn't need to be recognized or understood by anyone but ourselves.

Maybe ambition can't be judged by the value of cards you turn down when the game is through.

Maybe plaques and accolades and respect of legions is hollow.

It is nice to be held in esteem, but without the knowledge and peace of mind that you have succeeded or come close to what you aimed for, the applause of others is a bleating ignorance, channeled through your viscous lens as bullshit bled upon the senses. It takes work to make it taste good.

It would be disingenuous to believe that any of us has achieved success. There are many who've accomplished admirable feats, but we are all still so feeble.

And the recognition and glory of that is the most admirable thing I can recognize.

OK.

Links for the week

visionary art

writing

Boise Bar

Basque info

Artbabe

Zadie's new joint

Home of Jack Johnson

Home of Norah Jones

Go forth, and multiply!

5:40 p.m. - 2002-09-24

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