My sister just got this tattoo (cute!) and named it Jinchou, which I didn’t know was Japanese for penguin (also cute!) but when I looked it up I found it’s written人鳥, that is, person-bird. The bird just out there doing its business like a person. That’s the jinchou, that’s the penguin. Now you know.
selfie, eye contact, happy Lupercalia 🐐 🐕
With extra “Barns of Iowa” content. This hallway of ours is really narrow.
Gilla Band killing it in Berkeley last night. It was a pretty male crowd (because Noise Rock is Serious?) but a respectful one; once the good-sized mosh pit got started, a group of small women near me took turns going in, got bounced around for a minute, came out wobbly and giddy.
They didn’t do their breakout hit titled after my deadname but it all pleases without concepts.
Openers Pure Adult did some good work too. Haven’t had this much fun of this sort since Namba Bears in Osaka.
The London Review of Books writeup for this went and spoiled the ending, and even if it’s not much of a surprise I’m annoyed with myself for not having known better than to read it, and to find that it actually does change the reading experience.
I guess the rationale was “why does it matter, it’s a long modernist novel where nothing happens,” but it’s not, it’s a long modernist novel where like two things happen, and dude, you can’t just yank the curtain.
Latter-day Austro-Hungarian civil servant; THE WARM SOUTH, 2020 Northern Calfornia Book Award (https://www.spdbooks.org/Products/9781948072038/the-warm-south-a-novel.aspx); web developer; lapsed academic; bad at Zen; 🏳️⚧️