Platypus of Truth

As Counting Crows tells us it's been one long December, but there's reason to believe maybe next year will be better than the last.  I suppose by now I can say that I successfully got out of the canyon, Hollywood, and all that. So, aside from surviving Harvey, what occurred here at Platypus of Truth? Well, for starters, this year has been the least productive of posts since I started blogging. There are some outside reasons for that: new job, shorter summer, travel to see relatives, Harvey. There are also internal reasons. Unlike previous years, 2017 wasn't given over to reviewing books so much as to learning how to watch film. A new discipline means more time spent on organizing my thoughts and less time spent on writing. 2017 also saw an uptick in artwork on the blog as I began attempting to work in new mediums, particularly digital ones. Finally, I spent the year barfing out a lot of bad Eliot as free verse seemed the best way to get my thoughts out. There were other k...

Sappho Resistance is always a bitter agony but the bitterest antagonist is oneself. All right rebellion begins in the self and ends in the self; For Men may master many things but which of them can tame his little tongue? Teach us, Queen of Lesbos, How the tongue is tamed; For what Men cannot do a Woman might. O Fire higher than the Pierean Muse, Burn my blindness that my sister May teach me what she has to teach!

Chains There are chains we make and Chains we break All praise to God, the maker and breaker of chains! Whatsoever ye bind on earth Shall be bound in Heaven and whatsoever ye loose on earth Shall be loosed in Heaven Praise be to God who sets The captives free and Binds rebel angels in the Lake of Fire Which is the Second Death! Can you bind the Pleiades or Loose the cords of Orion? Praise then the God who set The stars on course when Jael Smote Sisera.

It's too early for spoilers, so all I will say is: "Go see The Last Jedi "!

December Loving Christmas is easy As a child; You have to learn to hate it. Business encroaches and Seasons fall out of joint The further finance forces you From home. Moloch always did hate children. I tried to find the snow That fell at Christmas But it withered with the Carols that Anglicans are Too holier-than-thou to Sing. Or maybe it was just the Commercialism Harvey blew All the way to the windy side of Thanksgiving. There was no magic In those eight lost years When we hauled our own Christmas trees from the Jones' and set them up Beneath the vault of a Cathedral ceiling. There was pain in every Movement of the saw. These words are blood upon The snow. They lead past the river to Our exile.

Poor Bob... He set out to traverse the upper elementary like Flat Stanley. On the way, he lit the teacher's desk on fire and our Admin decided to make an example of him. Below is the rule of our Awesome Imperiatrix as the 9th graders describe it (with a little help from Frank Miller and Herodotus).

Drawing of life form uncovered by the disastrous Miskatonic expedition to Antarctica in the 1920s No organic specimens related to these drawings has been located though a related bronze artifact of unknown provenance is in the keeping of the Mathematics department Please forward this picture and attached memorandum to Mr. Weyland