a story I’m not part of

I was going to write about the joys of having the house to myself for a weekend.  (And it is quite nice for an introvert.)

But I was scanning my aggregator, and I saw Mark Pilgrim’s latest videoblog.  It looks like a weird art-movie, unless you have a memory that holds random bits of information…and then you realize that this has the same picture at the end.

That was five months after I first started blogging, which is now four months and five years ago.  That piece is part of what I remember of the beginning of blogging, both the powerfulness of the writing, and the fact that he lost his job.  The double-edged sword.

I don’t know him, except through that sort of public writing.  But I find myself incredibly sad.  The look(s) on his face, staring at the camera, looking away…you feel, all along, that something terrible has happened, or is about to happen.  Because of my own experience, I tend to think of people dying or leaving, and that’s what I was waiting for at the end.

I suppose, all things taken into consideration, it might seem somewhere in the same vein for him.

Nothing more to say, really.

links for 2006-08-05

links for 2006-08-04

poetry thursday: that song

It changes over
time, doesn’t it?

The song you thrilled
to, because it was her
song or our song
or just the song
that was everywhere
then:

Gets displaced, replaced
by the next thing.

I found this album at the library.
I heard this band at a bar
a friend’s house
on the radio
and from there
over and over again.

I could write my list

(in part: Monkees = 1987; Cure = 1989; Indigo Girls = 1994; Cake = 1997)

and so could you and
you and you and you.

May I recommend
a moment of

silence

while we all remember
songs gone by.

links for 2006-08-03