And two years later, here we are again. Go Bruins.
Showing posts tagged me
Something about 18 packs of High Life in bottles I just love. Preparing for tonight’s Bruins game.
Just self-portraitizing. I can actually pose for other people, but never for myself. Always the same look on my face.
Just drinking in a tree. In the middle of the night. I love it when the weather starts getting nice enough to be out drinking in public.
Surprised that I can still get any sort of pompadour going. My hair’s so long now. Someday, I’ll try to figure out how to not oversharpen every skin blemish.
Books I picked up in 2012. Not included is Revolutionary Suicide by Huey P. Newton, which I lent to a coworker months ago and haven’t gotten back yet. They’re all good books. Anyway, what’s pictured is (from top to bottom):
- Sherry Wolf – Sexuality and Socialism
- Henri Lefebvre – The Urban Revolution
- Francis Spufford – Red Plenty
- Corey Robin – The Reactionary Mind
- Erick Lyle – One the Lower Frequencies
- James C. Scott – The Art of Not Being Governed
- Why Are Faggots So Afraid of Faggots? (Mattilda Dernstein Sycamore, editor)
- Rick Perlstein – Nixonland
- Eduardo Galeano Upside Down
- David Harvey – Rebel Cities
- Greg Grandin – Fordlandia
- A couple issues of The Baffler (there’s a third somewhere around here that I can’t find at the moment)
- A couple issues of Radical History Review
I unfortunately didn’t do terribly well on my goal of including more books by people other than white males. Hopefully I can make some progress on that in my 2013 reading.
Let me know if you’ve got any questions about any of these books, or recommendations for the upcoming year.
Someone reminded me on Facebook of this night back in 2003. We drank whiskey all day. Went to the Punk Rock Flea Market, saw a movie, went to a show where I finally got cut off by the bartender. By the end of the night, this was me standing up to my ankles in ice water just for the fuck of it. Still made it home to patch up a bike tube so I could make it to work the next morning. I can’t drink like that anymore. Something to do with aging, I’d imagine. God knows it’s not because I’ve learned better.
Just going through some old photos. This is me at the Galway House on my 31st birthday in 2009.
I’ll take it. Even if I’m not writing from a high-altitude balloon and wearing the traditional goggles and red cape (OK, how many people get that joke?).
After actually writing some stuff, I checked to see what sort of style I’ve got going. Ages ago, I wrote something, and the damn site told me I wrote like Stephanie Meyer (the author of the Twilight books)
This time, for my last piece of writing, for Part 2, I had:
I write like
Cory DoctorowI Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!
And for Part 1 I had:
I write like
David Foster WallaceI Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!
