By Michael Robbins
Praise this world, Rilke says, the jerk.
We'd stay up all night. Every angel's
berserk. Hell, if you slit monkeys
for a living, you'd pray to me, too.
I'm not so forgiving. I'm rubber, you're glue.
That elk is such a dick. He's a space tree
making a ski and a little foam chiropractor.
I set the controls, I pioneer
the seeding of the ionosphere.
I translate the Bible into velociraptor.
In front of Best Buy, the Tibetans are released,
but where's the whale on stilts that we were promised?
I fight the comets, lick the moon,
pave its lonely streets.
The sandhill cranes make brains look easy.
I go by many names: Buju Banton,
Camel Light, the New York Times.
Point being, rickshaws in Scranton.
I have few legs. I sleep on meat.
I'd eat your bra—point being—in a heartbeat.
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From this week's New Yorker.
I have nothing to report except that the magazines that had been piling up in the living room are now in boxes under my bed, less because I wanted to get rid of the piles than because I wanted to keep the cats out from under the bed. Of course, they only want to sleep there during the day; at night, they want to sleep on top of me, which does not make for the best night's sleep. I'm sorry, am I making no sense? I also got a teeny, tiny bit of stuff sorted and put away down the basement, not that you could tell because our basement looks like a bomb went off and then cats ran through the wreckage. And those were the exciting parts of my day so let's just leave it at that.
The view toward the east from the upper level of the Center Cafe in Washington, DC's Union Station.
Here is the Center Cafe from the lower level. I love the gilded ceiling.
Whereas this is the ceiling of the more intimate East Hall Gallery, which is also beautiful.
A peek into the West Hall from the Grand Hall...
...and one of the western-facing windows.
Statues at the rear of the West Hall. I had a very hard time getting decent lighting with my little camera in this cavernous building with no tripod.
Out front facing the sunset, a massive wreath for the holiday season...
...can't compete with the view that's always there of the statues and the Capitol dome.
In honor of CiderCupcakes' birthday this week, I showed my family the first three episodes of Arrested Development once older son got home from a very late engineering lab (the teacher bought the kids Chinese food and they didn't break till 7). Everyone loved it. The we put on the entertaining, close Tostito Bowl, having missed the first half when there was almost no scoring, though we did see the hilarious halftime marching band rendition of "Stairway To Heaven." It would have been better if the Buckeyes won. Oh, it came to my attention yesterday that not everyone has read the Jason Isaacs interview, mostly about Good, at Ain't It Cool News! And I will confess that if the Telegraph's sources are right, I may be done with my brief love affair with Doctor Who...ah well, it was sweet while it lasted.
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