jgtaylor

New York Times Fares Better Under Fascism

Or, Why I’m not writing poetry, but rather, reading the Newspapers and hating on them, as usual. So far, my favorite thing to hate on this morning is the New York Times. As the New York Times continues to attempt to adjust its image to a less “liberal” image, which they never have been – … Read moreNew York Times Fares Better Under Fascism

Social Psychologists Detect Liberal Bias Within – @ NYTimes.com

Social Psychologists Detect Liberal Bias Within. I find myself at odds with this one here. As a devout Anti-Authoritarian, I find the idea of the state to be repugnant. For that, I have been labeled a Conservative (but not by anyone that *actually* knows me).  Yet, the idea of Conservative, or being called one, is … Read moreSocial Psychologists Detect Liberal Bias Within – @ NYTimes.com

Updates

So, I finally got around to getting another server and importing the last export – from March, 2010. So, April, May, June are gone. It’s ok, I wasn’t so prolific then. But, a special someone moved in and helped (really, I helped, she worked) get the office cleaned up and usable. In the mean time, … Read moreUpdates

Oh Mother

not everyone gets to say goodbye before the great deeds are counted. But I’ve gotten to: I told her, Animals that eat their young are better suited to be parents than she ever was; she only said she loved me. I believe it, too. But I’ve also had whores swear their love ’til death. I’m … Read moreOh Mother

mornings

most mornings, i can’t see from the water filling my eyes, it’s sticks and stones that make everything blurry. my chest caves in with the weight of a new day, and the light takes away life’s defining edges. There is no hope, forty or fifty more years of every morning tears: dying is how we … Read moremornings

Epistle from 18-FEB-2004

Letter to the Black Beyond:
In Philadelphia, the sun sets on post modern ghetto fallout. I’ve passed though a seemingly endless corridor of poverty and sadness, somehow broken up by the spirit to survive. We’ve crossed rivers and wetlands and ducked under whole cities to avoid traps that cause us to stop.
I’m desperate for a cigarette. It’s been some time now and I swear they are calling my name – the smokes that is. But I’ll survive. Maybe.
We’ve stopped and I’ve been offered a seat in the café car, but no good comes from sitting down for too long. She tells me she’s in sales – floor coverings. I wonder if sales attracts a naturally boisterous person or if it turns them into them. She’s from Ohio; she glad she doesn’t have an Ohio accent. I’m not really from anywhere, but I say I’m from Connecticut; weird little countries in a bigger one.

Read moreEpistle from 18-FEB-2004

Welcome back Data

Bravo! Today I went out and bought an external hard drive enclosure. I had an old 40gb drive I had from like 2000 to 2004 that had just one day died. Of course, I’d never backed it up very seriously, so I lost some unknown number of poems, stories, whatever – those that I hadn’t printed out. I’d done a pretty thorough recovery with the print outs I’d had, but you can never know what else had existed only digitally – except for perhaps one you remembered, but not well enough to re-create… always thinking it would be great if you could just get at that data.

Read moreWelcome back Data

Good Ol’ frontline …

Frontline is always a very good show, and this one continues it. Though, my single critique is that, while it obviously answers many questions, it ends with only the hint of the real question: If credit is required to live the lifestyle that defines the middle class, without it, wouldn’t there be a much smaller … Read moreGood Ol’ frontline …

Soapbox Artist: collecting art & literature of the worst kind