Friday, March 27, 2009


Bathtub IV from Keith Loutit on Vimeo.

ze frank finds the best stuff.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Internet refugees . . . day two

The Internet has been down for two days now, and the girls and I are at Bigsbee's using their wireless. I have an appointment set up for Comca$t to come and fix the Internets tomorrow between "noon and three" whatever that means. I can't believe it's been down this long. We had a lot of wind yesterday, and apparently the wind broke the Internets. My next door neighbor has Internets, but I do not. That makes me very sad.

I only had one call today, and that was at four PM, so I had a lot of time on my hands. I got some writing done (in this very coffee shop) but that gave me a coffee buzz and I was really buzzing for awhile. It is cold, the Internets is down, and I can't play World of Warcraft. What am I to do? READ??

I am Dan the Prophet, and here is my message:

I'm in the coffee shop again, and again there's somebody within earshot talking about "fasting" and "bible study" and all this hocus pocus bullshit. The guy isn't annoying, he seems intelligent, he's sitting with a young woman and her child, and they're talking about a bunch of religious stuff. What a waste. What a total waste. What the hell could they possibly have to "study" about regarding kindness toward other people? How much study does that take? Here's a college class: "Don't be a dick."

That's it. The entire bible could be written on one page:

"Don't be a dick."

That's it. How is there an entire industry, colleges and books and CDs and churches based on constantly trying to remind people to be decent to each other? How much time does it take to figure that out?

How many trees have died for bibles, pamphlets, booklets, hymnals, tracts, worksheets and posters telling people to basically act with kindness toward one another?

The couple is talking about using a highlighter to "go through the booklet" to figure out the "teaching" involved in whatever hooba-jooba they're talking about.

Here's a religion:

"Don't be an asshole."

These four words will be the Old Testament.

Here's the New Testament:

"Be Nice."

Okay, bind that in leather and distribute it to the masses. It should be translated into every language.

I am Dan the Prophet, and here is my message:

"Don't be a douchbag!"
"Cut each other a break once in awhile!"

And yes, I've broken my own rule about a million times. I'm not perfect.

How hard is that to figure out? Every time I come here there are people are talking about the ins and outs of being kind to one another. It's not a science. How much time does it take to learn how to act decently with one another? You need some guy the sky looking over your shoulder to know better than to cheat and steal? You need something carved into stone in order to realize that killing is wrong?

I see the upside to going to church. Lots of people to spend time with. A support group. If it wasn't for the religious part, I'd probably go myself (as long as could skip the really long lecture part). But to be surrounded by people who believe all this crazy shit is too much.

And they only believe it because their PARENTS probably believed it, or their friends believe it. It's a crazy groupthink that is hard to get away from. It's a cult so gigantic that there is no one out there to deprogram all these cultists. It isn't that bad of a thing, I guess, but I wish there was a comparable thing except without the hocus pocus.

(Don't get me wrong, this young couple is not annoying like the paster-loud-cell-phone-talker yesterday. That guy was a total douchbag. At least these two people have discovered their inside voices. I am NOT annoyed by these two people).

Friday, March 06, 2009

Tuesday, March 03, 2009



When shall I grasp these fleeting rings of gold
That flit about the chambers of my mind?

When merchants count imaginary coins,
The host does tremble for its daily bread.

I punch the keys that do not open doors,
While Senators doth babble into air.

While rich men beg for other people's gold
And panels flat do entertain the host.

When will I grasp these fleeting words of truth,
That rattle round my long deficient mind?

When can I bind these fleeting dreams in ink,
And set them to a much beguiling rhyme?

When schools begat the unillumined host,
That twitter tiny thoughts into the air.

When alchemists do waste their precious gifts
On vanities and multi-headed births.

When will I grasp these fleeting thoughts that fly
About my mind that cannot hold a theme?

A mind that has one million tiny glints
Of genius that add up to nothing more
Than tiny lines that flicker on a screen
These tiny lines that will remain unseen
The only thing I know is "wear sunscreen".

When will I grasp these ravings by the arm,
And put them down on paper, safe from harm?


Sunday, March 01, 2009

Reading The Iliad

It is March and it is twelve degrees. Today I did a great deal of nothing, and I did it in sweat pants. I am reading The Iliad, and there is a great deal of killing and armor rattling. The gods love screwing around with people, and there is a lot of describing people as "aegis-bearing" as in
"They call you the son of aegis-bearing Zeus . . ."
I’m trying to figure out what "aegis-bearing" is supposed to mean, and I've put off using The Google. For something written around 8 or 9 hundred years B.C., it is violent. It's like a prose version of the movie "300". As in:
"Meriones overtook him as he was flying, and struck him on the right buttock. The point of the spear went through the bone and into the bladder, and death came upon him as he cried aloud and fell forward on his knees."
"The son of of Phyleus got close up to him and drove a spear into the nape of his neck: it went under his tongue all among his teeth, so he bit the cold bronze, and fell dead in the dust."
Oh yeah.

And there is a lot of armor rattling:
" . . . and his armor rang rattling around him as he fell heavily to the ground."
Anywhoo, this Homer guy has a great future ahead of him, if he keeps this up.

About Me

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I am the author of 5 books: Android Down, Firewood for Cannibals, The Cubicles of Madness, Robot Stories, and most recently, Various Meats and Cheeses. I live and write in Michigan. My website is at