apropos the Dylan docu on, Statistically Improbably Phrases for Guthrie's Bound for Glory:
little baby cats, old mama cat, gang house, dam fool, dam thing, fire whistle, buggy seat, war tank
There are moments, hints, in how Dylan talks now where you hear, warped and woofed, of how he sang back in 1962, 1963. Parts of us stay the same forever.
An idea for a contest: what google-search will provoke the most diverse bunch of results? Just now, a phrase brought up these 10 topics: Terri Schiavo; Deconstructing Harry; "Confusing Faith with Science,"; Sean O'Sullivan, a California high school pitcher/prospect; "Leadership is Confusing as Hell"; DNA; Teen Advice: Innnocence Lost; divorce support; Robert Lowell; "interpreting cancer statistics."
"Hurricane first entered English around 1555, coming from Arawakan (natives of the West Indies) hurakan via Spanish huracan. The word took several forms in its infancy in English, including furacane, huarachana, and uracan, all of which were alterations of the Spanish and of Portuguese furacao. Hurricane became the accepted form by 1688."
More than a couple bloggers have dredged up their interest, love, and other emotions for Walker Percy's The Moviegoer in the wake and wrath of Katrina. Today, the Times's map of what's still underwater brought me back -- Gentilly, Binx's strolling-grounds. Still underwater.
Long Pauses, a writer I know only through Google (which is how he/she imagined me finding him/her ["If you're reading this in the future..."]), notes: " I have a friend in Baton Rouge who knows quite a lot about Percy. When I asked him what I needed to know about The Moviegoer, he wrote back, "I guess one thing to keep in mind is that none of the places where it's set are there anymore.""
And there is Bixblog, who I'm pretty sure is a she, who weaves Percy into her own Search, and her battle with the Black Dog (nod towards Mr. Slavin, whatever hemisphere he is in). But then I also go from her to John Batelle's Searchblog, which has nothing to do with Percy but there is his book, called The Search,
and there is my point, finally, that "search" as an industry/space/function and The Search as a drive, a necessity, a reason for breathing, are at some points one and the same thing. In my case they certainly were, Google standing in and actually functioning as the mechanism for my greater Search, at least that one, that one that had an ending.
Which gets us to the nature of information and the nature of knowledge and the nature of longing, but it doesn't get us very far.
Lori (gg) is in Biloxi, doing work, doing good work, and filing some dispatches via her flickr. We are humbled and wish her well.
"piles and piles of used clothes that, for some reason, americans feel compelled to send down here, all stacked up on pallets in the parking lot of america's thrift store. these people don't need used clothes. they need tractors to come and pull the trees off their homes and out of their roofs, they need glass in their windows, they need water they can wash their dishes in, they need new underwear, they need diapers for their kids, they need someone they can trust, someone to be gentle with them and explain why if they stay they will get sicker. "
More on Disfarmer here:
"The eccentric photographer known as Disfarmer (1884-1959) seemed to be a man determined to shroud himself in mystery. Born Mike Meyers, the sixth of seven children in a German immigrant family, Disfarmer rejected the Arkansas farming world and the family in which he was raised. He even claimed at one point in his life that a tornado had lifted him up from places unknown and deposited him into the Meyers family.
In time Mike expressed his discontent with his family and farming by changing his name to Disfarmer. In modern German "meier" means dairy farmer, and since he thought of himself as neither a "Meyer" nor a "farmer," Mike Meyer became "dis"- farmer."
James Kunstler, today: "More people may die in Chicago as a result of high heating costs this winter than were killed by Katrina on the Gulf Coast."
I was reading his local (Saratoga) newsletter and thought, what a pain he'd be to live next to. But still. Here we have a prediction, and winter just around the corner. The old guys in the Stewart's in Kerhonksen were saying last night, snow is just around the corner. The copy at Egg Roll last Thursday, too.