Not a video, really, just stills. One of my favoritest drunken tragic Irish love songs ever. And now I go to cogitate and eventually slumber. Peace be upon you all.

Van Morrison and the Chieftains performing Carrickfergus.

I live to spread delight.

Look more delighted, damn it.

I have so many books and stories I want to write, and I come up with more ideas all the time. I’m seriously worried about this. I’m already resigned to not getting to write everything I’d like during my life, but I feel like I’m having to let more and more stories float away into the won’t-get-done-properly aether. (Yes, I write the ideas down in case something changes.) And I’m getting an itch to write A Novel — you know, a mainstream novel about my own growing-up era. But when?

I’m a really lucky person, but I get so pissed off at Time sometimes…

It seemed like the right time to post an incredibly cool picture of Diana Rigg. (As if there could be a wrong time.)

Ooh, I just came up with some major stuff for a fourth Bobby Dollar book. I wonder if there will be such a thing?

Don’t know how J. Shirley and these other people got hold of one of my childhood pictures. Here I am with beloved Pugzilla (pug/giant dinosaur cross) named Beezle Pug, on my way to Imaginary School.

(Shirley: “Don’t call me Shirley!”)

By the way, son and I saw THE HOBBIT last night. Loved it. Can’t believe any serious Tokienist wouldn’t, but -chacun á son gout-. As I expected, Jackson et al have gone back and interpolated in the storylines that Tolkien himself only figured out after writing it — ie, what was actually going on in the wider world of Middle Earth. The film didn’t seem slow to me (then again, I have been guilty of some huge long stories myself) and I actually was a little surprised when it ended. I thought I had another half hour to go and was quite content.

“A robot that turns into a building? What’s fun about that?”

Friday night. Hooked up with Carol and Cher. Let’s party.

This is one of my favorite pictures. I don’t know where it comes from, but it’s an image I just love.

Vlatko: Loretta Lux. Titled “Fish”. BTW, in the Works III gallery.

Andrea: Vlatko mentioned it already, Loretta Lux, German artist, now living in Monaco I believe

Tad: Thanks for the link and the information. I’d heard of her but didn’t know it was her picture. My kinda stuff.

This will contribute the next excellent thirty-six seconds to your life. Seventy-two seconds if you immediately watch it again.

Sometimes, The Right Song Makes All The Difference in a Video

When jokes are outlawed, only outlaws will tell jokes. And since most of their jokes will be about blowing up bank vaults and robbing trains, comedy will probably suffer a decline in popularity.

Facebook wants to know my New Year’s Resolution.

I want to learn to ignore the Voices. Starting with that one.

The combination of seeing my house from outside, shining through the trees, and a conversation with Rook and Lee here on FB, reminded me that I wanted to hear this.

They Might be Giants–Birdhouse In Your Soul

Thanks, Rook. Remember, there are levels…and levels.

Jill: Wait, you are supposed to post pics that remind us of Tailchaser’s Song, not Watership Down!

Tad: This is from WATERSHIP DOWN TWO: Woundwort Strikes Back. The undead general is so bad-ass, he hunts humans and turns them into trophies to wear. The Holy Grail rabbit is his bodyguard.

I’ve realized my purpose, the reason for my existence. All those years when I read so voraciously, all those ideas I exposed myself to, all the artistic movements I studied and the history and science I memorized, were so that I could learn to express myself. And if I do that very well, every now and then someone looks up and says, “Huh? Did you just say something?” Then I know I’m getting through to them.

It’s a wonderful life.

Happy New Year, all of you on Gregorian Calendar Standard! May upcoming twelvemonth be happy and healthy, and your intercalary days always subsumed by appropriate use of leap years.

It occurs to me that if I really plan ahead, schedule well, and hit the ground running in 2013, I can make all the same old mistakes in the first six months and then be on to new ones by July.

I was just sending this to some friends and thought it might amuse some of my FB chums as well. The southern part of my family (the Hills) built and lived in this fabulous monstrosity back when they were wealthy. Things changed, and as is often true with family stories, why it happened is a subject of dispute.

What it says in the guidebooks:

NAPOLEON HILL HOUSE. Corner of 3rd and Madison. Built in 1881 in French Renaissance style. Napoleon Hill was so successful in business that he became known as ‘the Merchant Prince of Memphis.’ He joined the California gold rush as a teenager in the late 1840s, returning to Memphis in 1857 with $10,000 and a plan: he would use his gold to open a cotton brokerage house. He did and he became emornously wealthy. Hill lived ostentatiously in this mansion he built at the present site of the Sterick Building. The mansion was befitting of the ‘gilded age’ of Memphis.

I’m glad Grandma finally went to the police with her story. It was very brave, and now maybe Grandpa will come out of the crawlspace.

“Should auld acquaintance be forgot…please, for God’s sake, at least leave the electric can-opener plugged in.”

Why is it that almost all great spiritual thinkers at some point confused the idea with themselves? It’s why I’m not religious. I believe in all humans, but I don’t put any of them above any other human. I may find some more easy to agree with, but I don’t find any of them holy — and that’s what I like best. Goodness is within everyone’s reach, no matter how low or bad they may seem.

Somebody’s genius contribution to a Cracked photoshopping contest.