Skip to main content

Strangelove and brainlove.

Yesterday's post kinda sucked. One of those meandering tl;dr things I churn out every now & then and instantly regret. Oh yeah, I just did that: I made a totally unnecessary link to urban dictionary so you could understand me better (cuz I'm just cute & obnoxious like that).

Today I'm thinking a lot on sex, literature, twitterfinds, brains, and um...newsness? I'm hoping to keep this post short (unlike yesterday's) and mostly coherent (also unlike yesterday's). At the least, to the point. We'll see how that works out.

So earlier this morning, I read a short story by this guy from Brooklyn, Ben Matvey. It's called "Piece of Mind" and is about brains and sex. It's really well written; my only real complaint would be something vague about the characters('s development or stuff), but I think the story's overall concept/style(?) more than makes up for my usual quibbling.

I found him on twitter; he'd followed me, like, forever ago and--asshole that I am--I only just now checked out his stuff.

It's about two kids working in the "brain section" of a museum, both unaware their feelings for eachother are quite requited. So amidst the humming brains and a few dark secrets, their feelings come to bear. There's also kinda a funny-ass twist. So it now.

It's quirky and a little dark. I fucking love that kinda shit. It's a little dry, but the juiceyness isn't in the characters so much as the story's situation & concept. Brains & sex, man. Hilarious.

My other big unease is that I feel like it doesn't exactly go anywhere but I'm also somehow not entirely convinced it's not trying to go somewhere, y'know? It doesn't need to go anywhere specific and certainly doesn't need to reach whatever goal/target within the story, but a bit more of a sense of that might be good. To go brainy for a sec (lawl), it's not so much that the story requires some telos as that it could feel a bit more like it were heading for some telos.

In that regard, though, with just a bit more flavoring, mysteriousness, and maybe some heavy tweaking, it could totally work in the New Yorker. They're fiction has a tendency to be a bit spacious and indirected. Introspective, even. So, yeah, I could totally see that working for this story.

I may re-read it later and see what I think and mebbe re-review it. For now, brains & sex. Read it.

Speaking of sex and brains, though, I was going out of my mind recently over the guy I'm seeing. I was thankfully talked me down, but I was all kindsa uncertain how I felt and frustrated by it; and then we had sex, and what had felt like a relatively unurgent matter ("I'm not sure how I feel about him...but I still kinda like him.") became a vexing cause for potential mentaldrama ("OMFUG--AM I LEADING HIM ON!?").

Well, it turns out he's moving. I guess it's kinda weird that I feel relieved, but it's less for having a 'way out' so much as now that I know what's going to happen (control issues....) I can just lean back and relax and enjoy our time together until he leaves.

Because obviously I couldn't. Obviously. Nah, I was actually en route to this kinda relief even before I asked him what the dealio was with him moving or not or what. Mah sponsor had already talked me down, so I was already letting go of my need(s) to know and for certainty & control. Like, even before I found out he was definitely moving, I totally ravaged him physically and we both enjoyed it immensely. In otherwords, I learned to just stop worrying and to love the buttfucking/boytime.

In other news (as in, actual news), I've only been following Occupy Wall Street stuff half-heartedly; however this morning I was looking at these pictures via The Atlantic or stumblupon or somethin. Anyway, they're pictures from around the world. Probably has something to do with this article or something.

So, like, I guess it's kinda serious. Yeh? Myeh.

I guess I should start paying more attention to it. And to the news (again). I miss being that guy who knows what's going on cuz he actually reads the newspaper and understands complicated/convoluted issues relatively well.

Well, I've put a proper news feed app on one of my droid homescreens now, so it's only a matter of time. Fuck yeah, you better believe smartness is sexy.

Hoorah, more brains & sex!


Other things that might interest you...

This moment: A tattoo.

So I read Mrs. Dalloway in high school, and it was perhaps the most beautiful thing I'd ever read. One passage in particular, very early in the book, hit me hard with my first experience of the sublime, and stayed with me—and led at last to my first tattoo.
In people’s eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge; in the bellow and the uproar; the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved; life; London; this moment of June.  (Emphasis added; full paragraph included below. From the full text of the novel as made available by the University of Adelaide.)

The paragraph this is from, the 4th paragraph of the novel, is the 1st passage with the stream of consciousness the book is famous for; although self-limited here, the flow is no less gorgeous. In the passage, Clarissa is walking on a street to get those famous flowers herse…

Losing Doolittle.

I recently got to spend a few days at the lake house my family used to visit through most of my childhood; we no longer own it, and it turns out I missed it more deeply than I realized.

Anthony and I both got the week before NYC Pride off this year, so I contrived to get us a little time there. The cousins who own Greenshore gave Anthony and me permission to relax there for several days rather than just the 1 or 2 I had expected. Good god, I'm grateful for that.

I missed this place. Standing on the balcony, the porch, or the dock and looking out over the lake, I was reminded of the beauty and tranquility this lake represents for me. The meaning and memories, too.

This was always a place of solace and stability for me. We moved around a lot when I was a kid, but we always came back to this place. It had been in our family for generations before I was even born—if we'd been able to keep it, it would have been a solid 4 generations including mine. This was where I figured out I w…

Sarracenia 'Palmerpink.'

So I posted the other day about my rekindled carnivorous plant obsession—I mean, hobby. I mentioned, in passing, that I had "discovered" a possible cultivar, so here's the lowdown on what that means and what I meant.

The term "cultivar" is short for "cultivated variety," and signifies that a particular plant is so desirable and interesting that people want exact copies of it rather than simply seed from it. Some famous American pitcher plant (Sarracenia) cultivars include the legendary Adrian Slack, the massive Leah Wilkerson, and the classic Judith Hindle.

Part of how these come about is that, unlike horses x donkeys = mules and certain other hybrids, Sarracenia hybrids aren't sterile and can be crossed and recrossed without limit. Further, random chance can create crazy combinations of genes such that even hybrids between the same species—heck, even the same parents—can demonstrate quite the variety. More on that elsewhere.

Depending on how easy…