New poetic forms

A few years back I invented (or I think I did) the julain: A three-line poem of a set meter with the rhyme scheme xaa.

I have seen double julains of abb acc. And I've seen double julains of xaa xbb.


Today, I saw that someone on pffa had invented the julainnelle, a villanelle variation that uses julains for the individual stanzas: AbB baA abB bbA abB abAB. I actually think it works better than "regular" villanelles.

How about the julainnet? xaa xbb xcc xdd ee, or perhaps abb acc dee dff gg?

I think that has real possibilities.

Monday Morning Baseball Post

So it's afternoon. Sue me.

It worked! I put the reverse-whammy on the team by trash talking them. Woo!

CC's back to pitching extremely well, and he has cut his ERA nearly in half. The pitching looks good. The hitting? Eh.

Grady Sizemore missed the game yesterday, ending his consecutive games streak at something over 300. I'm a believer in days off, no matter what the vocation.

The Indians have played Boston and New York from the AL East. Boston looked good. NY looks exceptionally mediocre. I'm desperately hoping another team can challenge them in the East.

The AL Central is a bad division, to date. Will 85 wins take it? 87, as in '97? I begin to think so. The Indians have the pitching to contend, but are burdened with some of the most erratic hitting I've ever seen.

Though no amount of data will convince me that Hafner looks as bad as he did last year. I see something positive there. I'm likely delusional, but I see it! I do!!

If you're a pffa member

We're doing an anthology. Check it out.

You know how in horror movies

The lights will flicker when there's something EVIL approaching?

My office lights keep doing that.

I'm afraid I might be the something EVIL.

A number of years ago, I walked up to the market and bought something and the total bill was $6.66. I thought that was amusing and told my brother. He suggested a short story in which the main character learns she is the child of satan because cash registers always ring up at $6.66.

"That's funny," the cashier said. "Each of the items is more than six dollars, but the register says they total $6.66."

"I get that a lot," Beelzebubbette said. "Maybe I'll just take one."

Birthday split

Instead of cake, I had a birthday banana split.

I think the banana split is pretty good, but could use some refining.

I'm thinking cherry topping instead of chocolate for one of the little mountains.

And there should be pistachios involved somewhere. Add a little salty to the sweet.

Hot diggity.

My joints are spreading a rumor that I'm OLD. I have been unable to convince them otherwise. I need a Snopes page.

Too dorky even for me!

Kansas City has a pitcher named Gil Meche (pronounce Mesh). Steve just called him Gilgamesh.

I said, "I hope Travis Hafner goes all Enkidu on his ass!"

And then I was embarrassed by my own dorkiness.

Monday Morning Baseball Post

The Indians really suck.

I don't know if I can muster much more of a post than that. Last week I said I thought Byrd was toast but CC would recover. Obviously, I'm an idiot.

The rest of the AL Central ain't looking too hot, either. The only thing the Indians have going for them right now is their competition isn't the sort that you expect to hang tough.

But since the Indians aren't hanging tough, it doesn't actually matter.

I'm still watching, like a fool. Tonight is an off night, so perhaps I can muster a tiny bit of enthusiasm for the upcoming Kansas City series. The problem? CC starts the first game versus Gil Meche.

It's going to suck.

At this point, I'm hoping that if I say one thing, the opposite happens. CC will lose again. The Indians will lose 100 games. Andy Marte will never get another at-bat.

The only thing I can say with any certainty is this: I'll be watching.

A big fat meh

I watched the new "A Room with a View" a little while ago. It just doesn't work.

All of the actors are fine, but the framing story? Grim and invented. Blah. You don't get a feel for the life at the pensione, Miss Lavish, the Misses Alan, the silliness of Cecil Vyse, the desperation of Mr. Emerson that George be happy, the panicked and repressed Lucy. It's just not there.

And I missed the opera.

Of course, I think the 1985 film is one of the most perfect and glorious adaptations of a book to a film ever, so it had a lot to live up to.

The Masterpiece "Sense and Sensibility," on the other hand, was lovely, even when the music struck a discordant note with the action.

All the fun of Napo is gone

A couple of things have happened to erase all of the fun of napo. I'm not deluded enough to think I'll get around to reading all the poems I'm missing in the meantime.

My new favorite blog

Fire Joe Morgan.

Even if you don't follow baseball, you might get a chuckle out of some of it.

If you do follow baseball, it's golden.

I feel very alone

I like when Steve has a chance to go on a trip, since it's something he doesn't get to do often and he enjoys it.

And I always think that I'll enjoy it, too. I'm pretty solitary by nature. We can go hours sitting in the same room without talking. We read, or use our computers, or something similar.

But it's the knowing that he's there that makes it different. Knowing that I could say something, and occasionally do. And I can hear him use his radio or laugh, and he'll go to the kitchen and ask if I want something, or he'll stand right behind me and say, "Gosh, wouldn't brownies be good? If only someone knew how to make some." And I laugh and tell him he's annoying and sometimes I make brownies and sometimes I don't.

I never really understood before getting married how someone becomes like an internal organ. You can't feel it in there, but you know when it's gone.

Steve can hear his own heartbeat, though he tunes it out most of the time. He's my metaphorical heartbeat that I tune out on occasion but can usually hear when I choose to.

I could go upstairs. The cats would love it if I did. They like to sit on me when I read, and then I could forget that he's not down here noodling around with some arcane bit of technology.

And it's posts like this that make me realize that he and I spend too much time together. He's been away less than 24 hours! I'm like a very anxious pet.

Every time I get Rickrolled...

... and I've been getting Rickrolled a lot lately, I watch the video.

I can't help myself.

If you know of a journal that needs volunteers

I'm looking to get some insight into the world on the other side of the editor's desk, so if you know of a journal that needs some volunteer help, drop me a line, won't you?

Got the bad baseball blues

All of those years when Cleveland sucked were okay. I never got my hopes up, so I never got my hopes dashed, either.

The way things are going this year in the AL Central is not good, not good at all.

Steve's going on a fishing trip over the weekend. I'm afraid that without him here getting me to do stuff, I'll spend the whole weekend in bed, whimpering.

Vertigo

In my head, not a Hitchcock movie or U2 song.

Bleargh.

I hate sinus things.

Something weird happened

One of my posts went pow. Kerblooey. Zipbang.

It is gone.

It was odd to start with, since the name of the page and the name of the post had nothing in common. But now it's gone which is even odder.

Perhaps it left to visit someone else's blog.

Take the civics quiz

I got a 91.7. I think I need to read a book!

Very America-centric, so you furriners can take it for laughs but don't be frustrated if you don't do well.

Monday Morning Baseball Post

(At least, it was morning when I wrote it.)

Well, the Indians aren't getting off to a great start, though some of the troubles are troublesome and some are just shruggable.

Fausto Carmona's third start was beset by walks, but that doesn't really strike me as a danger sign just yet. He was getting a lot of movement on the ball and didn't always know where it was going, but that seemed almost a function of being hyper--perhaps after signing his nice multi-year deal.

CC is on the other side. I still suspect his issues are between his ears--perhaps after not signing his nice multi-year deal. CC strikes me as a pitcher who likes stability. He simply has a tendency to get wound up and start overthrowing (see last year's playoffs). But he has the ability to turn it around.

Unlike Paul Byrd. I can't think of a more charming player. Listen to him sometime when he has a microphone and you'll be charmed. But has he lost the feel for the ball? Not being able to spot your pitches when you have the type of stuff Paul Byrd has is a much bigger deal than not being able to spot your pitches when you have Carmona's stuff. And getting off to a bad start is a much worse sign for a Byrd than for a Sabathia. I'm very concerned.

I've always really liked Jake Westbrook and hope he can continue pitching this well. He finished up 2007 very strong and has started 2008 similarly. I think he must have been injured last year long before it became public.

Franklin Gutierrez swings wildly at pitches when he gets into a 3-ball count. He gets franxious to get a hit. Take a walk, Frankie. We'll still think you're macho.

I was delighted that Andy Marte got the opportunity to start yesterday, but not delighted at all to see him pulled late for a pinch hitter with the bases loaded. How is he supposed to improve when he isn't given the opportunity? Bah!


The Detroit Tigers still look shaky, though I figure a few of the Indians' starters could snap any offense out of their doldrums.

Are the White Sox as good as their good but not stellar record? I tend to doubt it. I suspect this is a .500 team wearing a .600 team's nightshirt.


I haven't followed the NL at all so far, despite my good intentions. It's easier for me to watch baseball when my team is winning, making the little news breaks fun instead of grueling.

I think I need a poetry time-out

I will write my next couple of poems (I hope) for NaPo but stop reading for a couple of days. Trying to read hundreds a day is making me very confused.

A flattering review

A friend sent me an email that someone had done a review of pseudophakia.

I don't know the reviewer, but the review itself is extraordinarily kind. It is here.

An unreasonable standard?

I was talking with some people about my current (ridiculous) project of a biblical sonnet sequence. One person said, "I guess the main risk is getting at material in a truly fresh way. People have been responding to these characters for a very long time."

You know what? I don't get at any material in a truly fresh way. Every thing on this planet has been written about already. How many more poems have been written about love, or death, or flowers than about Uriah the Hittite?

And yet, it pretty effectively dampened my ambition for the project. Maybe I'm just clutching at reasons to be cranky.

Writing the unpublishable poem

Despite my new goal of pursuing publication more assiduously, I'm still prone to writing things that no one would ever want to publish. Massive blank verse monstrosities. Sonnet sequences that can't stand alone as individual sonnets.

I'm feeling very grim and angry at myself, which probably isn't the best attitude one can take.

Huh?

A guy introduced John McCain at a rally saying "You can have your Tiger Woods. We have John McCain."

What the hell does that mean?

The NaPo blues

I haven't written what I wanted, and I haven't been able to comment and read as much as I'd like and I'm just over 25% done and I'm really frustrated and mean as a snake. A mean snake.

Monday Morning Baseball Post

The season is a week old, and there are already a ton of interesting stories.

The Indians: 3-3 though they should be 2-4. Three good pitching outings, one each from Carmona, Westbrook, and Lee (surprise!). Three bad outings, one from Byrd (no surprise) and two from Sabathia (no real surprise, either). I think CC made a bad choice in not signing over the off-season. He seems to be a player whose emotions can get the better of him, and then he starts over-throwning and over-thinking. I do like him, though, even if he's leaving after this season and hope he can pull it around. I don't hold money against these players. I still root for Jim Thome, no matter that the other people in the stands are booing.

I hoped the offense would get off to a hot start to try to avoid pressing, but it was not to be. Hafner still looks like the Hafner from last year, though my brain keeps reminding me that a small sample size is still a small sample size. Victor getting hurt again on opening day means a whole lotta scrambling attempting to find a lineup.

I hate platoons. I'll probably be saying that a lot this year, but I hate 'em. And the LF platoon of Michaels and Dellucci is just silly. Yesterday, both started against a righty, which means management thinks Michaels can hit righties, which means that what the hell is Dellucci doing on the team? Bah. I'd like to see Francisco given an honest chance to win that job.

STO is running some of the most obnoxious commercials in the history of TV. That "American and proooooud of it" guy? That obnoxious little kid screaming about baseball? Yuck and yuck.

Matt Underwood seems a bit subdued this year, but Rick Manning is saying some of the stupidest crap I've ever heard from baseball announcers. The claim that "It doesn't matter how you pitch but when you pitch" doesn't make "ERA overrated," you idiot. It makes won/loss records overrated. Nitwit.

The Tigers: What in the world is going on with the Tigers? Before the season started, I wondered about the health of the team. They are a bit elderly. But their problems don't seem to be health related right now. They are pressing, trying to do too much.

The Red Sox: Is it too much to hope that they crash and burn this year? Probably.

The Yankees: Ditto.

The Reds: Reds fans better hope Dusty Baker gets hit by a bus before he can ruin those young arms.

The Mets: Santana is an exceptional pitcher, but he does have vulnerabilities. I hope the Mets fans and management didn't overlook them.

The White Sox: Die, AJ! DIE!

The Royals: I'd love to see this team finish 2nd in the ALC. Behind Cleveland, of course.

The Braves: I'm not a Braves fan, but I am a John Smoltz fan and have been for *gulp* nearly 20 years. Before their success in the 90s, I was pulling for the Braves. Soon, I'll probably be able to pull for them again.

*waves* These are not the Julies you are looking for

Apparently, there's an episode of Extreme Makeover with a Julie Carter.

I am not that Julie Carter.

An extreme Makeover would probably be a good idea.

Me on TV would probably be a really, really bad idea.

I'd probably start giggling. And then I'd snort or drool or belch or something. It'd be ugly.

You'd think it would be harder to find something nice to say

There are so many poems produced during NaPo at the two forums I frequent. Both forums encourage positive comments during the month, and you'd think (okay, I'd think) it would be harder to find positive things to say. But it isn't. There's usually something good going on, often several somethings, and occasionally there will be a poem that just astonishes the hell out of me.

But that could be my brain fried lack of sleep talking. Wow, I'm tired.

NaPo is getting the better of me

I just can't keep up. I can't keep up!

Blast from the past

Something earlier today reminded me of tole painting. It was all the rage when I was a kid, little paintings on frames and tools and cutting boards and furniture.

It's not my style of thing at all, but I feel the sudden urge to paint something!

The perils of reading so close to bedtime

I saw a headline that said Howard Shore has been selected as the composer for "The Hobbit."

I read it as Howard Stern and said, "My God! What are they THINKING!"


In other news, my next sonnet is going to be about Uriah. I hope. Yipes.