BurningbirdGrant me a modicum of patience on a continuing dialog about an Iraqi invasion. I’ve had a headache for the last few days that is becoming more and more demanding of my attention, so I’m giving it its way.
My way of saying that I’m just not up for this tonight.
To all whom I’ve managed to offend, piss off, antagonize, and otherwise singe fully with my firey feathery wings in this last year (‘ware the embrace of the Bird–she’ll fry you), you can rest assured that tonight the fates are avenging you.
Can’t sleep and am in a world of misery with marks of Missouris flora and fauna all over me.
I will never…ever…go walking in dense brush in unknown back woods without first understanding what’s lurking in said woods and preparing accordingly ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER again.
Cross my firey little bug-bitten heart.
(Yo, bugs! ‘scuse me, you want fries with that?)
If the sunset could speak I’m sure it would say:
‘Here i am, the end result of a day’s effort.
I am the sum of all the light that goes before,
gathered together by me with occasional rays
breaking forth as I stuff it,
screaming and clamoring,
into the box named night.
I am the dawn that wakes the day world
and starts the birds singing,
sending quiet little
night creatures into burrows and nests
to sleep until their time is come again.
I am the light of the day
telling trees to grow and plants to sprout
slipping through leaves to tickle the
freckles of a red haired child with
upturned face.
I am late afternoon green-gold that
paints the world in exquisite beauty and
reaches towards the feet of an elderly couple
sipping lemonade on a porch,
long light stretching towards but not quit meeting
reflected in hands accustomed to resting on the same table.
When you consider all that I have done
can you not see why I must weep such brilliant color?’
Gary awakened in me a nostalgia with his compelling description of a cold afternoon and a wait for a ride home:
She’s here. One minute early, you smile and grab each other closely by the arm for warmth and then briskly walk off into the crowd telling tales of the day. Before long you’ll be home, eating, living, loving, safe. Warm.
Perhaps I’m worn down a bit by the heat and humidity of my new home, but the thought of cold, brisk air appeals to me. Tonight I feel oddly homesick for the home I had in Vermont. For the home I had in San Francisco. For the home I had in Boston. For the home I had in St. Louis before things changed. For Gary’s home.
Snippets:
“During that weekend, I came to the realization that I’ve been mulling over ever since: a lack of money is hindering the growth and potential of blogging. Free — or personal — blogging can only take us so far.”
…
“By paying great bloggers to produce weblogs, we remove economic constraints and enable them to devote their energies full-time to producing compelling content and creating outstanding weblogs.”
…
“If we can demonstrate that these blogs are worth the cost it takes to maintain them, we will enable the creation of many more compelling, useful blogs. The key to success lies in the creation of great blogs for these sites — blogs that will contain practical and engaging content and drive traffic to their respective hosts. One sure-fire way to do this is to hire bloggers.”
…
“There’s a vast group of people out there now who are experts in finding the news and links, capturing its essence in short snippets, and churning it out hour after hour, day after day.”
Meg’s latest and greatest at O’Reilly. (There’s a delicious bit of irony associated with the page–can you spot it?)
Want my opinion of the article? You know me, here’s a blank ___________ fill it in.
Better yet:
Hello O’Reilly!
I’ve written several books and articles for you, which unfortunately, don’t pay me enough so that I can focus on writing full-time. Too bad, really, because I love to write and spend a considerable amount of time on said books and articles.
However, after reading this latest article by Meg, I came up with an idea: why don’t you hire me as a professional weblogger, thereby freeing me from having to look for a new contract. Instead of writing articles and books full-time for you, I can weblog.
After all, I can research and link-comment-post with the best of them.
Sincerely, your author,
Shelley Powers