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But how do we determine what the accurate picture is?
I meant to brag about successfully ordering takeout Indian goat, but then I came home and smashed my face into a glass door. Accidentally: I had my hands full of groceries and couldn't catch myself. I don't think I can have broken my nose or there'd have been blood everywhere, but the amount of pain and swelling is rather extraordinary to me. I look like Alec Guinness' Fagin.
At least once I could see around the icepack I was able to perceive my contributor's copies of Archaeopteryx: The Newman Journal of Ideas, including my poems "The Color of the Ghost" (Wittgenstein) and "A Find at Þingvellir" (Mjölnir). The first of these was written for my godchild, the second for my brother. The cover is the famous fossil. I approve.
I ate my goat jalfrezi anyway. It felt like a small victory. I really hope it doesn't snow until later tomorrow.
At least once I could see around the icepack I was able to perceive my contributor's copies of Archaeopteryx: The Newman Journal of Ideas, including my poems "The Color of the Ghost" (Wittgenstein) and "A Find at Þingvellir" (Mjölnir). The first of these was written for my godchild, the second for my brother. The cover is the famous fossil. I approve.
I ate my goat jalfrezi anyway. It felt like a small victory. I really hope it doesn't snow until later tomorrow.
no subject
I'm not sure about the linkage between blood and broken noses. I broke mine once when I was maybe fourteen, after taking a fence wrong.* I'm not sure that I bled that much, other than from the abrasions I took at the same time, but I have to admit I wasn't in an ideal position to notice such things.
Any road, I hope your nose isn't broken. Mine was this shape already, as near as I can tell, so I don't reckon you necessarily need worry on that front even if it is, but I hope it's not, all the same.
Congratulations on the contributor's copies! I like those poems, and the fossil, so I approve the juxtaposition.
I really hope it doesn't snow until later tomorrow.
I agree.
ETA: I see that you're sharing a TOC with Frederick Turner. He's done some interesting things in the field of SF epic poetry. Have you read any of them?
I read The New World (1985) when I was at University of Chicago, mostly on account of having stumbled across a negative review that left me thinking the reviewer was somebody I at least wouldn't agree with and probably wouldn't like. The most striking memory I have is of surprise at reading something set in 24th century Ohio; that and the fact that the Maumee valley had become a major wine region.
It's been reprinted in 2011; a sample's here. I should read it again, I suspect. I remember having written a scene some years ago, one of those numerous things that never went anywhere, where people on Mars watched a news video of a cavalry battle in North America. At the time I thought I was being influenced by Alexander Jablokov's Carve the Sky (1991) and River of Dust (1996), but now I find myself wondering if I was thinking of The New World as well.
It was years later that I realised Turner had been on the faculty at my undergrand alma mater, although he'd left eight years before I matriculated. Not to mention that he was the son of the anthropologist Victor Turner.**
I've ridden that sweet country that the characters war in towards the end of that sample. Strange to think upon. Stranger the sentiments distance does make.
*Left foreleg below the top rail, right above, and the horse goes down on his left knee and shoulder. I go off over the left shoulder. Broken helmet, broken glasses, broken nose, knocked out for some number of minutes.
**Nobody mentioned this fact when we read Turner in my anthropology courses--I wonder if my old professors realised it.
no subject
That's neat. No, I don't recognize the name, but I might recognize the poems.
The only grape wine from Ohio that I've ever had was terrible stuff, very acidic and unbalanced; that said, it came from South Bass Island in Lake Erie, well north of the valley in the poem. I couldn't decide if Turner was making a joke or simply pointing out that over a few hundred years of vintning all sorts of things can be accomplished, even without the advanced biological technologies that the societies in the book had developed in the course of recovering from the depletions of our era.
I thought his poems interesting, and I hope you'll not hold it against me if my memories are mistaken. (I got slapped once for recommending someone a book she didn't like, and am always a little nervous ever since.)
Also, I was thinking on getting myself copies of Singing Innocence and Experience and The Dybbuk in Love, and I keep forgetting to ask you if Amazon's as good a way as any or if there's some other source through which more of the proceeds (or any other benefit) would go to you yourself personally?
Oh, and my mother read this entry over my shoulder and demanded I should warn you that if your nose has got a bump it could be broken and out of place, and could then heal out of alignment and cause problems down the road. Happened to one of her brothers, apparently.
I reckon you've had enough dealings with the medical community to have a fair idea whether or not it needs seen to, but I said I'd pass the story along, so.
PS