22 December 2012

it's all terribly interesting!

my translation of an abstract by the inestimable Katherine Parys:

Common salvinia, Salvinia minima Baker, is an aquatic invasive fern that obstructs waterways and impacts water quality throughout the southeastern United States. In an effort to establish populations for classical biological control, the weevil, Cyrtobagous salviniae Calder and Sands, was released at multiple sites across Louisiana. Many of the release sites were lost due to a variety of ecological and anthropological disturbances. In 2008, C. salviniae was found to have successfully overwintered on S. minima in Gramercy, Louisiana. Attack by Cyrtobagous salviniae significantly increased the number of damaged terminal buds and decreased the fresh weight biomass of S. minima.

La salvinia común, Salvinia mínima Baker, es un helecho acuático invasor que obstruye vías fluviales y afecta la calidad de agua por el sureste de los Estados Unidos. Para fundar poblaciones de control biológico clásico el gorgojo Cyrtobagous salviniae Calder y Sands fue introducido en múltiples sitios por toda Louisiana. Fueron perdidos muchos sitios de introducción debido a varias alteraciones ecológicas y antropológicas. En 2008 fue notado que C. salviniae invernó exitosamente en S. mínima en Gramercy, Louisiana. El ataque de Cyrtobagous salviniae aumentó apreciablemente la cantidad de brotes terminales dañados y disminuyó la biomasa fresca de S. minima.

given that common salvinia is one of several invasive species found in Louisiana waterways, I can't help but feel like I'm in an awesome biological fantasy, (albeit a bit more understated). Ms. Parys has also done research on the impact of red imported fire ants on the weevil mentioned above(PDF link), the abstract for which I had the fortune to translate as well.

ain't science grand?

19 December 2012

he's gonna babble about trolleys

the six sentence structure makes for nice, quick prose when you've the attention span of a goldfish.

your incipient megalomania is arresting, I confess. but I can't remember your name. is it that you haven't told me?
no matter, do be still. I am trying to draw the back of your head in pen, and I haven't margin for error. not with the streetcar rocking so.

12 December 2012

don't eat the flowers

In my chest, there are a thousand blossoms of venom holding springtime court, and outside is the hateful blue that locks out the sun, drugs line and form into dripping wrecks, turns asphalt into the skin on mephitic rivers of pudding. I had cooked, and how I had turned the fire up and attended the slaughter with lemon and salt, seared its skin like I longed to sear the skin of the boy in my kitchen, so tempting and warm that I opened the door to go smoke. even with the oven on, the aroma so thick and toothsome, I only cooked and ate, and I fed but never tasted him, and I struggled and burned, smoked and guttered right out. in the choked ember tint of such an evening the poison garden begs for wind so I slept with the window open; the kitchen went stony, the skin left lonely in the fridge. the lullalby is nasturtium and nightshade cackling at the sad excuse for day that follows, weak as dishwater and the grease of yesterday's attempts atop it. ponder, indeed, if there's any call to ever clean a kitchen again, if particular flowers could grow in a bombed-out stove, make for decent seasoning when properly dried...

>> fabula amoris sex in sententiis
>> scripta 6 dec MMXII
>> pro puero quo apud me cenandum vinit at basia mihi non tulit.

24 March 2012

it had me in tears.

something a favourite professor of mine (Jeremy King, otherwise known as El Rey by his Spanish Linguistics students) once posted que me tuvo cagándome de risa:

The highlight of the LASSO conference (from a talk on linguistic strategies in literature):

"Y las salesgirls porteñas una bola de snobs and I know I'll have to take a size 3 (can you imagine a country donde the largest size is a THREE????) por 'y...el tema del busto', as they delicately put it here and F***, ni que fueran tan y tan BIG, sólo que estas washed-out faux blonde social X-ray lollipops no tienen, directamente, tetas."

I can only imagine that talk as playful. sparkly, even.

but it must be said, in due seriousness, that porteña salesgirls are actually incredibly snotty, most especially the ones at the little "cueva musical" shops along the peatonal downtown, suffering all day as they do the ceaseless playing of Gotan Project's "La Revancha del Tango", a delightful little electronica petit mal of several tango standards.

I should think that listening to the words "el capitalismo foráneo" repeated ad nauseam over some gauzy beats found in a shoebox portishead left out by the kerb would probably make anyone surrounded in their work by tourists feel less than pleasant towards ignorant foreigners whose deepest knowledge of inventive tango interpretations is astor piazolla. but given the average age of the porteña shopgirls I saw, they'd have been far more likely in the club after hours popping it to kelis (it was 2006, let's be clear) or playing pool to cumbia villera (that, on the other hand, may approach eternal), and may conceivably have never heard yo-yo ma's celloriffic take on their national cultural heritage. lucky situation, that; a good number of porteños in general were convinced that chinese people were taking over, as evidenced by their ownership of virtually every small supermarket and buffet restaurant, and might've violently resented such a flagrant incursion.

now, never having had to buy feminine attire in Buenos Aires, I cannot speak to the disposition of dress-shop attendants. I can and do favourably speak of the nice ladies in the feria in parque centenario who will gladly sell you a nice woolen overcoat for a very reasonable price, even before the customary price negotiations. they also do not fit the description given above in even the slightest, at least, not that of faux blonde lollipops. yo-yo ma, tampoco.

10 March 2012

in prior times this would have been called a salon

an exchange
for 2 interlocutors

> : I confess that it's so bro I can't even finish it
just like most him 'novels'
- : same here
I tried to read it in high school and got so bored
i didn't yet realize it was EWWWW FOR DUDES
> : and I picture most of the characters as crusties
a la them what stand at esplanade and claiborne and spange
- : hahahahahahahahaha yeah
TOTALLY
> : and deep in my head a crabby man in a rocking chair says 'get a damn job ya sorry bum'
but I think some of kerouac's personae crustamatae were following jobs anyhow
- : hahahahahahahahhahaha
that man sounds muddy mudskipper in my mind
i just found it unbearably boring. i didn't get the characters at all.
"and then we got drunk and fucked some bitches in a new town. something america. the end." - my brief summarization of On the Road.
> : I tried reading satori in paris or whatever
and it was like
tu passes tout le jour dans le maudite beauty parlor
which was slightly better than
'git drunk fuk bitchez'
- : hahahahahaha
> : but even so I couldn't tolerate it, and stomped it on the floor at aunt tiki's
to no one's horror.
- : HAHAHAHAHAHAH! TO NO ONE'S HORROR!
i just don't understand american masculinity. i think the less i understand it, the better.
sometimes it seems like the more i understand, the less interested i am in actually having sex with men, so you know, i'm okay with just letting it be this thing i don't want to know the particulars of
> : strangely, it's got a line of 'naked ancient greeks at the gymnasium being sods' to it
which is strange to think about
but this is why no one should read ancient greek plays
it's like 'hmmm damn 3000 years ain't shit changed'
- : i think kerouac was a totally closeted homo with a homophobic streak
> : uh, ya think?
didn't he schtup ginsberg?
or did I eat some bad acid
anyway he hung round with a buncha drugged up buttpirates so whatever
his cred is nil
- : HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
> : on that account, anyway
- : DRUGGED UP BUTT PIRATES
I AM DYING

17 February 2012

remember when they started paying us to show up at assemblies?

so I wrote this letter to Vitter asking him to vote something down. then the form letter response came:

Dear Mr. hmmlaaah,

You may be pleased to know that I am a cosponsor of this bill that would permit a health plan or provider to decline coverage for services that are contrary to the institutions' religious beliefs. This bill would repeal a new ObamaCare mandate that requires faith-based institutions to offer employees insurance coverage for contraceptives. It would also prohibit discrimination against the entities due to their unwillingness to provide these services.

Like you, I believe that health care plans and providers should not be required by the government to administer services that they religiously oppose. As the author of the Abortion Non-Discrimination Act, I have long fought to provide conscience protections for health care entities. My bill would further prevent the Department of Health and Human Services from forcing religious organizations to abandon their beliefs. Rest assured that I will continue to protect religious liberty and support this bill's passage in the U.S. Senate.

Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts on this important issue. Please do not hesitate to contact me again about any other issue important to you and your family.

ahem.

facepalm

see, the problem is, I had sort of expressed distaste with the exemption of religious organizations from providing services otherwise available across the board due to a conscience objection, and suggested the indignation at hand was so much bluster, since the insurance companies themselves would be providing the coverage and the actual agency of the (let's have it out, now) sin would not be theirs.

(cue opening choral of Chumbawamba's "One by One")

which, in the end, is somewhat how it played out.
but damn, man. I took the time out from playing dress-up to send you an email that had intelligible thoughts in it-- can't one of your staffers at least cut and paste two form letters together or something?

just make me feel like it was worth my time, hawny.

03 January 2012

whilst the dinosaurs roamed under second edition

an amazing goddess creature whom I call friend found this on craigslist, whilst entertaining herself in a familiar manner.

Vampyr that tried to take a bite out of us at Club Oz... - mw4mm - 99 (French Quarter, Club Oz)

You and your friend did not manage to stop us then, so what gives? You - a tall, medium caramel complected, African American vampyr with lovely ice blue eyes, and your companion was a medium height Hispanic male (if vampyr, he was new...) with short dark hair, a carefree attitude and had several strings of Mardi Gras beads around his neck. You and he separated myself and my dear friend, you going upstairs, he leading me into the dance floor. He strung some of those Mardi Gras beads around my neck and his, trying to keep me locked to him and dancing, so I would not be able to go to my friend. Yet, I broke free, got him, and we fled. You gave me a murderous stare when I retrieved my dear friend -- and that stare also held not just anger and hate, but recognition and a flicker of fear. We feel you both made a rather halfhearted attempt at reckless disposal of us. It seemed as if your hearts were not into it, though you did manage to put my dear friend and companion into a rather deep trance. I know someone, who has gone by the names Robert and John among others, and the internet alias Shadow782, that knows you and seemed a bit shocked that you had been sent to do the deed, as he rather likes you and seems to think you are fun-loving (yet at times a bit too wild...) most of the time. You knew us, alright... but why try to take us out? What purpose would that serve you, in particular?

Contact us if you dare... You have information we need, we have things you need. We may be able to come to an arrangement. Adieu for now, and merci beaucoups in advance...

here followed the commentary on ye auld Faicebooke, colour coded by commenter, myself in purp.

Clearly, True Blood has taken off where Anne Rice left us.

they have neglected to mention whether Shadow782 is AIM, Yahoo, ICQ, etc. -- otherwise, I should be pleased to have been put in a deep trance and rescued by the plucky lady herself.

I actually haven't heard anyone talk about "Vampyres" in New Orleans since Anne Rice left. P.S. Vampyre with a "y" is precisely as annoying as Womyn with "y"

You know, the BEST part of all this is that they're probably just HUGE DORKS doing an extended RPG version of Vampire: The Masquerade.*

(*PS how big of a dork am I for even knowing this exists?)

(A: Big. Huge.)


I have no idea what that is but it sounds complicated indeed. What if there is actually a 1000 year old vampYre taking his victims at Oz? That would be pretty awesome. I bet he has great clothes.

Hahahahaha. "VAMPIRE: THE MASQUERADE" is an extreeeeeemely dorky goth role-playing game. Think Dungeons & Dragons, but with sexy vampires instead of wizards, and from the 90s. I read this again and I'm actually now almost CERTAIN that's exactly what this was.

"Contact us if you dare ...." AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! What dangyre lurks b'neath thee surface, plucky damsel?!


God, that's tedious. So I'm going with REAL Vampyres eating people in gay bars. Listening to Rihanna remixes and eating lonely twenty something from Metry. That's my explanation.

I think I may know who these people are, oddly enough. . .

Well, not know them, but have seen them, in OZ... it has to be. They're like both maybe 18, if they don't have fake ids, because I would say younger--a fag and his hag--head to toe black, black flowing dresses for her, chain smoking. . . otherwise, all of us as teenagers. I cried when I saw them and mourned my wasting youth.


oh wow lady, you just pulled out V:tM.
brother, did you detect any 8, 12, or 20-sided dice on them?
if so, then this goes far beyond True Blood, oh yes. this is darkness on a pen-and-paper level of the Great Beneath.
my question is, when will the Lovecraft worshippers move in and claim Oz rightly in the name of the Deep Ones?