touch

touch, originally uploaded by Thirteen Letters Photography.

bronco

bronco, originally uploaded by Thirteen Letters Photography.

Roll for Surprise

Roll for Surprise, originally uploaded by Thirteen Letters Photography.

shooting ghosts

shooting ghosts, originally uploaded by Thirteen Letters Photography.

The evening was full of them.

And now for something ...

If justice is blind, wouldn't pornography have to be scratch-and-sniff?

"... traitors of whiteness."

In refusing to exercise the racial privilege upon which white youth cultures are founded, nerds may be viewed as traitors to whiteness. But engaging in nerdy practices may itself be a form of white privilege, since these practices were not as readily available to teenagers of color and the consequences of their use more severe. The use of superstandard English is thus both a rejection of the cool white local norm and an investment in a wider institutional and cultural norm.

From "The Whiteness of Nerds: Superstandard English and Racial Markedness"
Mary Bucholtz
Journal of Linguistic Anthropology
June 2001, Vol. 11, No. 1: pp. 84-100

... Sounds like bollocks.

Warlord Tourney

The Barony of Thor's Mountain held its first-ever Rapier Warlord Tourney on Sunday.

Reynard and I were the only eligible fighters participating, so, we fought a Swiss Five -which means we fought with each of the 5 authorized styles- single sword, sword and dagger, two swords, sword and buckler, and sword and cloak. It was the best two out of three for each style. So, we ended up fighting 12 bouts. I won the first two points --sword and cloak and then single sword-- pretty quickly, but then Reynard rallied and won the next two --two swords and sword and dagger. He won the first fight in the last round, which was sword and buckler. Then I won the second, bringing it all down to one last fight. And, I managed to beat him in that last one.

So, I am Thor's Mountain first rapier warlord. It is an honor.

Now, I'm a bit tired. Whew.

Mundanity

I went for a run this morning, did some push-ups, a couple sets of bicep curls, washed a load of towels, watered the garden, gathered some of the materials I'll need for tomorrow's appointment with a mortgage loan officer.

moments

Moments are all I have --all I'll get.

Sitting here in front of the computer, I'm smelling a fistful of magnolia blossoms, remembering to breathe.

The petals are off-white. Soon it'll oxidize into a color like rust.

I'll enjoy their scent while it lasts.

Meanwhile, I'll breathe. It's hard sometimes to remember, hard to draw breath around the mountain in my gullet, the mountain in my head.

But, I've a fistful of magnolia blossoms, and a moment to breathe.

I will remember. For myself. For you.

The scent of not-white, soon bleeding to red. The scent is a thread through moments, walking the greenway in sunlight and shade, sitting here in air-conditioned dimness.

Remembering to breathe, is remembering to put one word after another. Remembering how to put two words together that nobody else would or could.

Remembering to breathe, is remembering to breathe, remembering to smell a fistful of magnolia blossoms, remembering that you need to eat, remembering that even peanut butter can taste good, remembering kisses and affection and how skin remembers skin, and remembering there will be more to come.

I've a fistful of magnolia blossoms, and a moment to breathe.

I've a moment to breathe.

A moment.

Breathe.

Frack

My HVAC adventures have come to naught. I haven't been able to find a way to patch the cracked secondary drain pan below the exchange unit. Am back at square one. To replace the pan, I'll have to acquire some jacks or rig up a rope and pulley system because the unit directly sits on the pan. I'm not familiar with normal HVAC set-up, but that seems kinda idiotic.

And I'm going to have to leave my air conditioning off if I don't want to destroy my carport siding.

From "The King in Yellow" by Robert W. Chambers

Along the shore the cloud waves break,
The twin suns sink behind the lake,
The shadows lengthen
In Carcosa

Strange is the night where black stars rise,
And strange moons circle through the skies,
But stranger still is
Lost Carcosa

Songs that the Hyades shall sing,
Where flap the tatters of the King,
Must die unheard in
Dim Carcosa.

Song of my soul, my voice is dead,
Die though, unsung, as tears unshed
Shall dry and die in
Lost Carcosa

Cassilda's Song in "The King in Yellow" Act 1, Scene 2.

Swordsmanship demo

I'm going to teach (with Tristram's help) a sword-fighting class at Blount County Public Library on July 12. The blurb for the class follows:

Captain Jack Sparrow is terrible sword fighter. Learn why.

The rapier was the sword of Shakespeare, the dueling weapon of the late Renaissance. Learn how people fought on the streets of London in the 16th Century.

This class surveys 16th century fencing manuals and will look at how sword-fighting has changed during the last 400 years. Rapier fighters from the Barony of Thor's Mountain (also known as Knoxville) will be on hand to demonstrate their skills.

Instructors

Travis Bond has four years of historical fencing experience, practicing a hybrid style of rapier combat that blends the best of the historical styles to create a balanced whole. When not sword fighting, Travis provides software implementation services for a Knoxville-based company.

Joel Davis has been a rapier fighter for two years, putting in close to 400 hours of sparring while studying the works of historical masters such as Vincentio Saviolo and Salvatore Fabris. A local journalist, Joel believes that the pen and the sword are just about equally mighty.

caught

caught, originally uploaded by Thirteen Letters Photography.

Bottle

Bottle, originally uploaded by Thirteen Letters Photography.

According to Flickr stats, the least "interesting" photo in my stream. It ranks 12,971.

Yes, I have that many photos.

16K Reaper

16K Reaper, originally uploaded by Thirteen Letters Photography.

the logistics of giving up

You know the damage to my credit --because of the idiocy of someone who will remain unnamed-- is going to stay on my record for seven years.

Read an article from the Associated Press, the other day, expecting that the credit recession will last about two years.

If I sell the house, I might not even be able to recoup the loan. There are so many cosmetic repairs that I need to finish, so much cleaning and painting, that I never have the money or the time or the energy to fix.

I wonder how I can extract myself with the last amount of damage to my credit?

Reading McLuhan

Reading McLuhan, originally uploaded by Thirteen Letters Photography.

Have been reading "The Classical Trivium: The Place of Thomas Nashe in the Learning of His Time"

The shot was described by one of my Flickr friends as "proper hillbilly intellectual and a damn fine self portrait."

Perch

Perch, originally uploaded by Thirteen Letters Photography.