I hesitate to long
To move along
From where I am but don’t belong
To where I wait too long.

The dandelion exists to be puffed away by the idle child. A species’s reproduction enables another’s.

“You see her / You can’t touch her…”

I fought this fight for over 5 years.

“…Never / Come back here again…”

”Inside this box is a vial of either a deadly poison or a vital antidote.”
Schrödinger’s deathtrap: you are simultaneously alive and dead.

A younger, squasheder-headed Calypso.

Scientology is as valid a religion as Neoplatonism and as valid a philosophy as psychotherapy.

It’s either allergies or swine flu.

One shouldn’t need to convince oneself that the correct answer is to spend a gorgeous afternoon lying in the park. For nature isn’t a jerk, passive-aggressively blaming others for its own failings.

On a scale of 1-10, with

1 = I hope you have an excuse for not seeing this so I can stab you and steal your excuse to get out of attending;
2 = I've seen better performances put on by KARL and MPR;
3 = it might be a decent play but it stands for everything you loathe;
4 = flip a coin;
5 = if you can get in for free (and I know you can), go for it;
6 = yeah, it's worth seeing;
7 = yeah, it's worth seeing and I'm not just saying that because the PAD has a gun to my head and is telling me to tell all my friends or they'll shoot please tell my sister I love her;
8 = I feel your aura would appreciate it
9 = seriously, see it, and talk others into going;
10 = I will hunt you down and kill you if you do not attend;

where does Mother Courage fall?

Partial attendance counts.

For such a small person, you cast a huge shadow.

Oppression is a plague, but you take it out of your own cup.

I don't need friends to do the job of enemies for me.

hm I already picked up mail today.
The postman always rings twice?
Is that by Hitchcock?
I was going to say Norman Mailer, but that might just be Postman -> Mailer.
I just thought Norman Bates, but that’s Norman Mailer -> Bates.
And Norman Bates -> Hitchcock.

Free cone day. The best things in life aren’t.

I’d like 0 orders of beef lo mein, but without vegetables. And hold the rice, but make it brown.

Obama and Chavez shake hands, and diplomatic, economic, and geopolitical stances are all hyperexamined as part of a new era.

Obama and Chavez shake hands, and thousands of miles away I have to look up a book (“Open Veins of Latin America”) risen to #2 on amazon.

“It’s the same old song…”

“And flew back to Phoenix to finish the year as it started…”

Rising from ashes, one line traced from the previous to the next, a trail of dactyls leaping forth in rules of 3. That’s the limit: it can’t be the same, it can’t be any more. One knows exactly where one is, what one looks like, and can tell it to anyone one wants.

Mario 1, not 3: you can’t go back.

“…When I said, ‘I hate what I've become’, I lied: I hated who I was…”

Why would I ever not get the confetti.

“This is like an experience I never had.”

Chocolate goat cheese takes exactly like you wouldn’t expect, because it tastes exactly like chocolate and exactly like goat cheese.

“Today seems like a good day to burn a bridge or two…”

Sometimes the realization of finality just explodes like microwaved water.

“…Nothing to see, show’s over: people, just move along…”

“The third one is when you want something overpoweringly <grunt>. The second has the hotness of Eowyn. And the first one is the first one.”

First and foremost.

Pirates 3 was no The First One.
Shrek 3 was also no The First One.

Apologies for the childishness, but it is intended in good fun.

This is EmpTyger. I'm being... vigilant.

Watched Sunshine Cleaners. Pathological liars trying to find honest work.

“I love you. And I love you. And I’m glad you’re around.”

Flourless cake, flowerless fire.

“…I want something else to get me through this / Semi-charmed kind of life…”

“This Is Not a Game” is a perfect suspense for nights requiring an extra hour of insomniacal activity. Save for the negated chapter titles, it is not witty or clever, nor intellectual or philosophical. It is plot; like the enjoyment of a recap of a game, it is sufficient to provide enjoyment.

Sorry, we’re having a slight rabbinic dispute here.

Italian ThinkBread: because matzah was too Jewish.

I think we got all the plagues. Can we check them in the back of the haggadah?
Only the odd ones.

Why is this night different from all other nights?
On all other nights we eat all kinds of vegetables, but on this night we eat wasabi.
On all other nights we do not dip even once, but on this night we dip rolls into wasabi, and edamane into soy sauce.
On all other nights we dine either sitting upright or reclining, but on this night we eat lying on the floor.

On all other nights we eat matzah.
On this night we eat sushi.

The time has come, the walrus said, goo goo g’joob.

Color coordinated.

True blue.

Skim milk is not supposed to change color.

Milk teas are tealike when warm, and milky when cold.

It’s like drinking the leftover milk in a cereal you really like.

No Shame tonight: 10pm Women’s Building, Olin 2.
Get the message.

“FIRST SAVED MESSAGE”
or
“SINCE I’VE KNOWN YOU”
two twenty-one-act plays in one scene
adapted for the stage by
DANNY BRAVMAN
for
NO SHAME THEATRE
at
WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY
in
SAINT LOUIS
on
APRIL 3, 2009
starring
A GUY
A GIRL
and featuring the voice of
SATHYA SRIDHARAN

Will not autograph today’s Studlife [p.3].

Washington University’s economic situation plummeted to a record low as the fallout from the “textbook bubble” meltdown continued…

Too lame for words.

A pony walks into a bar and coughes several times. The bartender asks him, "Are you alright?" The pony says, "Yeah… I'm just a little hoarse."

I ran into L[] post-hangover this morning.
That sounds like you were post-hangover, which I know you weren’t.
It also sounds like L[] was post-hangover, which I know she wasn’t.

Schnarticle was already cool before it turned into a Clooney location shoot.

I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen you sober.
“I don’t remember the last time I saw you, drunk.”

Parking break.

“Raindrops keep falling on my head…”

Heading into the rain. Eins zwei dry.

First there was snow mixed in with rain. Then there was rain mixed in with rain. Finally, they added some of that rain/rain mixture to itself.

“This is a sketch…”

“Important Things with Demetri Martin” reflects everyday humor. Clever, intelligent, quirky; at its best insightful, at its worst awkward.

If you’ve done something wrong and need to flee the country without having prepared a fake identity, you’ve done something wrong.

“A trespassing was reported March 9 after a subject would not leave the driveway of a neighbor. When confronted by police the trespasser said, "I get a better view of the sunset from this location." After officers advised him he would have a very limited view of the sunset from jail, he complied and moved back to his property.”

A sunset needs proper vantage to be enjoyably watched.

“Abe [...] was reincarnated as a lobster."
I think I’m done.
Done done?
No. Just done.

Quick fix.

Actually, it's interesting, in a not-going-to-read-it-right-now kind of way.
I'm still not sure which you're not reading til later.
Oh, neither, but for different reasons. Rather, both. That was less unconfusing than I could have made it.
So was that.

Disturbing implies well done. It’s just weird.

Eating and still being hungry is a waste of a meal.

Locating a cure for cancer is difficult.

It’s like that time Alias got preempted.

Some people hate those who have no facade. Some people hate those who have only facade. The appropriate level of human interaction probably lies somewhere in the middle.

It’s like I think, therefore I’m in touch with reality.
Or I think, therefore I’m not.

Many happy returns.

Seeking 4-leaved luck.

Nothing to celebrate.

Experience is the best teacher, until it stabs you in the back.

“Whereas Pi can be approximated as 3.14, and thus March 14, 2009, is an appropriate day for National Pi Day: Now, therefore, be it Resolved,

That the House of Representatives-

(1) supports the designation of a 'Pi Day' and its celebration around the world…”

“Come gather ‘round, people…”

Watched Watchmen. I would have more appreciated it were I to appreciate the 70s more; likewise the voice-over, with the comic book genre. The story considers different aspects of authority distinct from identity, which is almost satirized behind masks. As illogical, as overcautious, as fascistically unethical, as hyperobjectively unemotional, as passionately idealistic, as defiantly paranoid: forms of vigilantism evolving through time. The abundance of scenes in overpowering rain fit nicely.

“…And accept it, that soon you’ll be drenched to the bone…”

75F when left at 6pm, 36F + windchill when returned at midnight.
I wasn’t sure what to wear even before the 1/3 inch of rain and 24 mph winds meantime made it moot.

Buy American: sniff markers.

Lie: content without accuracy.
Tautology: accuracy without content.

XP: do not feed to Cyclops

My laptop has an uncanny ability to detect the onset of nice days on which to stop working, probably to try to force me to go outside, unaware that (a) it’s a laptop so I could take it outside if it were working and (b) I then have to spend time inside dealing with tech support.

"Come take a look…"
Go and seek.
"…Don't really care who ends up getting hurt…"
Desperate.
"…Judgment versus instinct…"
Think I should. Feel I should.
"…Answer me this / Yes, all I have is questions…"
How?
"…Can't slip away and hide behind a false truth…"
Tried both twice.
"…Still standing here now…"
Standing still.
"…Did I see you laughing / Yeah, funny, it's not me…"
Tried both twice.
"…A sign that I'm still me / I'm still breathing…"
Standing, still.

What goes around comes around to Mudd MPR at 9pm freely tonight.

Nonfiction : indicative :: fiction : subjunctive

“Marching into the syncopated…”

The world is getting colder.

“…It’s all we know…”

Sleep schedule.

Fitfully and agonizingly hunting for a voyage.

“Like the ravenous Cyclops, snark sees with one eye. And then it complains that other people lack dimensions.”

“American Gods” portrays immigration as culture, religion as deception, but also fate as manipulation. Its narrative failings complement its philosophical heights, but also vice versa. For both religion and literature require some degree of suspension of disbelief; the intersection is appropriately mythology.

“Things I’ve Learned from Women Who’ve Dumped Me” is 4 parts comedy, 1 part wisdom. That doesn’t factor in the fraction of the essays which unfortunately fail, nor the percentage discount for purchasing it.

Breakup breakdown.

I would have given her Sims2 if I loved or hated her more, to either present her something she wanted or to ruin her life. But instead, I just didn’t care.

Categorical imperative.

How about, no one gets put in concentration camps?

When I think about the future I live in the past.
When I don’t think about the future I live in the present.

Making lists of over 64 things.

I was going to put ‘Tell the truth’ but I didn’t have enough space in that column.
Probably for the best.

Rec over.

A full blueberry pie sat in a tin next to a white saucer holding a crumbled last slice of apple, like a postsecret whose caption would read, “I don’t actually want to be a lawyer.”.

Having had convenient excuses for why I haven’t any of the past years, I finally attend inventory, capping a long day with a session of taking stock, correcting counts, and free pizza.

All productions of Hamlet differ because all depend on the portrayal and the perception of madness.

“Can you take a 15 minute break to help me bring some dead plants into the Hotchner?”
What? I can’t hear you.
“Are you at the bookstore? Can you bring some dead plants into the Hotchner?”
Bring some what?
“Dead plants into the Hotchner. Nevermind.”
No, wait, I can help- I just can’t hear what you’re saying. It sounds like dead plants.
“I am.”
Ah. I’ll be right out. Where are you?
“Chicago.”

“Hello, darkness…”

Silence is a form of communication.

“…The sound of silence…”

“Brother and sister, together we'll make it through…”

Blindsided at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

“…They are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future…”

Payments for web service may cost an arm and a leg.

"T. Reich was pulled to earth through a dimensional portal from a dimension of Nazi dinosaurs. He briefly wreaks havoc in the downtown before being driven back to his home dimension by a housecat which changes sizes when agitated."

R[]’s Advice
1) This is not a problem.
2) The solution is a threeway.

I have no interest in watching whether he will realize that she won't put out before she realizes that she will.

A friend encourages you to go after this cute blonde you just met.
A good friend encourages you to go after this cute blonde you just met so you’ll get over your ex.
A bad friend encourages you to go after this cute blonde you just met so you’ll get over your ex so that obstacle for him will be removed.

“I feel so unnecessary.”

There’s a gradient between dance party and music practice.

I only go to songmeanings to look at stupid people revealing that they do not understand a song.

It’s been a bad month.
“What happened?”
You don’t really want me to answer.
“I didn’t realize it until you said it; yeah, I was really hoping you wouldn’t.”
I’m touched that you pretended to care.

Honest communication is an evocation of the speaker, not the audience.

In which L[] takes a page out of the anti-vapid book: ‘Well, I don't know about that. I'm fine with it; it's just really ephemeral.’
I will respect someone more who says, ‘In which L[] takes a page out of the anti-vapid book’ than, ‘Well. I don't know about that. I'm fine with it; it's just really ephemeral’.’

Extra special order.

I just had the Wait, what’s B[]’s last name? moment.
LOL
I’m confused. Is A[] a stripper?
lol Not as good as What's B[]'s last name?, though.

Certain names are verbs, allowing a name (Clive Staples Lewis) to become a sentence. Less remarkable are last names (Brooke Shields) which strain the bounds of transitivity. Rare are the fortunate ones (Mark Felt) whose first and last names are both verbs, allowing multiple possible sentences.

I have none.
Clearly, this is why you need more friends.

Quirk is established in slight exaggeration.

I can express what I need to express, and only those who understand me will understand me.

Hyperbole is the compensation for the loss of experience in communication.

((4! + 4)/4)^sqrt4 = 4! + 4! + 4/4 = (4 + 4 - tan (pi/4))^sqrt4

Number families.

More horizontal than vertical.

“Synthesize, organize, assuage, rutabage.”

Part to part to whole to whole.

Now I'm only trying to figure out whether we can have a metametonymnym.

“Dating, like the tyrant, seeks perfection (within a certain price range). Whereas the heart, like the eye, can only cling to imperfections: her funny stride, and the way her voice breaks, child-like, on the phone. And so the dater, self-baffling, seeks what the heart cannot understand. We must stop dating. But we can't.”

The past is dated.

“The only way to stop dating is to fall in love. But how, under conditions of dating, would this be possible? You are affected by all the dates you've been on, the relationships you've had. The pain you've inflicted binds you to the people who bore the brunt of it.”

Where's that from: 'I like you…kuleles'?
"I just like ukuleles. I didn't get it from anywhere."
I was afraid of that. Well, now you know what keeps me up at night.

Dreams are art without a soundtrack.

"Yeah, I look up youtubes of ukuleles at night."
Now I know what keeps you up at night.

Underwhelming: The Epic Continues.

Turnover prior to halftime.

Or maybe, Disappointing: The Last Battle.

“Have you ever seen a one trick pony…”

Wrestler is a struggle towards a tragically predictable ending. A stoic can take on any hurt and not feel it, except the hurt they themself inflict, and those hurts become self-inflicted as everything changes except self-identity. It should be so easy to halt, but in a contrived world that has glimmered with glory for too many decades, reality and phoniness become so indistinguishable to the observer and to the self, that physical pain leads to emotional torment. Any political or religious overtone is coincidental. The world is fake. The world hurts.

“…Tell me, friend, can you ask for anything more…”

Emotional investment is required to enjoy a spectator sport, but it need not be the spectator’s emotion. Another’s, be it stoic endurance or passionate outburst, will suffice as conduit.

1) It’s a home team.
2) They’re the underdogs.
3) I have family in Philadelphia.
4) I’m rooting against R[].
This is easy.

Sibling or Date: every waiter’s favorite game.

“I did my best to notice…”
I really hate, when I try to do something good for someone who deserves it, that the result is only worse for everyone.
“…My sign is vital…”
I realize I am lucky.
“…My hands are cold…”
I feel nothing.
“…I’m on my knees looking for the answer…”
I don’t even know what to pray for.
“…Are we human…”
We make mistakes.
“…Are we dancer…”
We keep moving.

There should be room temperature snow.

“I want you to know…”

Dear Charter,

Please put a note in my file that says that there’s an Internet outage in my area every time the power goes out, so that when I call in after the power goes out, you don’t treat me like a moronic liar who needs to be walked through a modem reboot 3 times and then scheduled for an unhelpful, unwanted, and unasked for router upgrade, as you have 7 times in 2 months when the problem is- and has always been- on your end.

ps Thanks for not hanging up on me the second time I called.

“…You oughta know…”

“Walking on, walking on…”

Keep moving, back to whatever shattered remains of what slipped from my fingers to crash windingly into my side so that I recoil away, letting it fall, to create a symbolic splintered destruction across the floor through where I still must somehow proceed to exit.

Watch your step: this may hurt.

“…Broken glass…”

I don’t even think they can diagnosis it, but the medicine is making me kind of loopy.

“I've become so numb / I can't feel…”

“You don’t hate yourself. You’re annoyed at yourself.”
Don’t you understand our angst expression by now? The fact that I don’t have that lost iPod any more is the way she knows I still don’t have a time machine.

Dimensionally unique.

I’m pulling a you.
I’m pulling a you pulling a me.

No Shame tonight: 10pm Women’s Building, Olin 2.
Good chance of drama.

“CRAIGSLIST MEDLEY”
or
“I FEEL SO CLINGY”
a one-act play within a one-act play in two acts
based on the play
“CRAIGSLIST MEDLEY”
by
LAURA CASTANON
adapted for the stage by
DANNY BRAVMAN and MELISSA DUCHIN
for
NO SHAME THEATRE
at
WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY
in
SAINT LOUIS
on
JANUARY 23, 2009
starring
FOUR GUYS
FOUR GIRLS
and
ONE LUCKY AUDIENCE MEMBER
with special guest appearance by
SATHYA SRIDHARAN

Lala Excalibur.
Symbol of Camelot,
Sword drawn from stone, and then
Truth’s battle cry,

Wielded each season for
Teleological
Cause: This we shall live through,
They, you, and I.

Futurus Quondamque.
Arthur, enlightened rex,
Student of Merlin, who,
Come what-a-may,

Uberdespondently
Cries an impassioned plea:
“Make me a hawk! Let me
Fly far away.”

Vanitess Nicoless.
Guinevere, Arthur’s queen,
Lover of legend, the
Virtued coquette,

Explores for herself an
Unhypothetical
New proposition: To
Nunnery, get.

Ferrumfer Sinister.
Lancelot, Arthur's knight,
Friend of a friend of a
Mate of a mate,

Lays him a chivalrous
Intercollinear
Line down, to perfectly
Triangulate.

Bitter cold.

Guiltless in madness lurks
An untaught quirk:
Trying rebound outlaws berserk,
Which isn't going to work.