infiniteblue

I can’t write at night.

lou — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 21:26:04 +0000

I’m not sure why. The further into the day I get away from my first cup of coffee the more intolerably stupid my sentences become. That makes me a morning writer. Which makes sense that I like morning sex too.

In the evening is when I seem to conjure new ideas to write about, usually over a cocktail. I guess that makes me evening drinker. Which seems to dovetail nicely into the generally accepted societal time slot for drinking. Evening sex is nice as well.

So I guess I like sex, writing, drinking and sex. In that order.

It’s good to know these things about yourself.

Bad Moods and Writing

lou — Sat, 28 Jan 2012 19:11:05 +0000

Letters of Note has a letter from legendary ad man David Ogilvy to a man name Ray Calt about his routine for producing ads. Point number seven struck me.

At this point I can no longer postpone the actual copy. So I go home and sit down at my desk. I find myself entirely without ideas. I get bad-tempered. If my wife comes into the room I growl at her. (This has gotten worse since I gave up smoking.)

I showed this to my girlfriend saying something moronic like “I bet you’re happy I don’t act like this when I’m having writer’s block.”

She walked out of the room.

What Happens When We Can’t Read Other People’s Diaries

lou — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 19:11:17 +0000

Twas a great story on Radio Ireland a few days ago. The radio station solicited their listeners for found diaries. And the listeners responded with journals that they discovered in the attics their houses. First person writings from the 1800s in Ireland were read aloud on the air.

It was captivating to listen to the stories. Which got me thinking about our contemporary times. One hundred years from now how is anyone going to be able to find any of the digital diaries that are being written today?

Technology is failing us here. It is doubtful that a found, one hundred year old computer will still work. And even if it did. And even if a person from one hundred years in the future was able to find a digital diary in the forest of family photos and pornographic pictures, the damn thing will probably be password protected and encrypted.

Good God, the thought of the future having to rely solely on the information on the internet for a portrait of who we were is positively nauseating.

Dear Reader,

lou — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 21:45:57 +0000

You’ve no doubt noticed that all the previous posts of the last few months have been ejected from this blog like that alien creature blew out of the chest of Kane in the first Alien movie directed by Ridley. If you are missing any of those old pieces, tough shit. I don’t care. It’s a blog for Pete’s sake.

I’ve decided to start anew.

However if any of those old pieces are of monetary value to you; Put a hundred dollar bill and the name of the article inside a used latte cup and leave it on the last bench overlooking the ocean at the top of Hawk Hill in Marin County. I’ll email you a copy of the article.