I have been unable to start counting the words on my blogs (would the rules committee allow me to count them all together as AHB's Uber-Blog?). I'll be taking the adage as fact, and counting 1000 words for each picture (and it doesn't even matter if the picture is focussed!!!). and then, then we'll see who's top dog.

cowboy up if you think that Ron Silliman's venn diagram of plotless prose etc means anything. at any rate, it depends on a conception of boundary that I for one don't buy. putting things together that didn't previously fit.

my bram-o-metre tells me that only a few people read this blog, less than 1000 intelligent souls a day, but they are all very smart, good looking and punctual to a fault. good work, folks!!! I must say, however, that I have my doubts concerning the stat counting at Ron Silliman's blog. I am enlisting the aid of Ralph Nader (that is to say, Ralph Nader's career) to smoke out what kind of hijinx have been going on over there. I call for a reformation of the whole poetry site stat counting module. in this post-blurbian, post-word-of-mouth era, numbers count. THOSE NUMBERS MUST BE ACCURATE FOR OUR POETRY TO CONTINUE!!!! I say stand up and be counted!!! I thank you for your help in this essential matter.

I had thought to spend the day reading, taking notes, 'doing' Jung, but my father's cough of yestreen turned suddenly into fever, rattling congestion and vomitting this morning. called the doctor, who said take him to the hospital. he was so weak that he couldn't really stand, my father that is. we had to call the ambulance. my 1st ambulance ride was 10 or so years ago, when my father had chest pains. he said, then, I think you better call 911. I make the call, and he's standing there awaiting the results, so I'm telling him to sit down while I talk with the 911 person. the ambulance radio played "Hot Rod Lincoln" by John Lincoln Wright as we zipped to the hospital. Erin's broken femur 1st meant a ride to Concord, then, in the midst of a sloppy slippery snowstorm, a ride from Concord to Children's Hospital in Boston, where the surgery would occur. Beth and I had been married, as I have written before, only 9 days at the time. Erin suffered scream worthy pain bravely. today for once the hospital was quiet. the nurse was efficient and friendly. I brought the Jung book, on the haha off chance, and she remarked upon it. she also said that my father is obviously well taken care of. which is something Beth and I were just damn glad to hear. and now I'm going blah blah like this. my father was admitted with a respiratory infection that could be the early stages of pneumonia but in fact Beth and I cut out once my brothers arrived. I just wanted to read today, and write a bit, school work. I am glad for the experience of helping my father along, and often very tired. Beth, of course, as well.

tutelary stove spirits 

bison and dragon on fridge 

just started reading Jung by Deirdre Bair (Little Brown 2003), a bio. I've only read a little Jung (and a little Jung). you know, just getting around to it.