organic metrotextual

ok, so i’ve been behind on my computer-related pledges (and thank-you letter to those who helped me get it) of blogging more regularly. i’ve been meaning to, and of course i’ve been reading, but then-friday night lights happened. the first time i heard anything about this show was years ago after dim sum with a friend of a friend in montreal. i put it on my list of things to do, and come to think of it-i was in the same room as tim riggins a few years back-one of the many red chair interviews that i have been fortunate enough to be in the studio for. i came upon season one in my library during my staycation and since then, i have binge-watched the show as quickly as i have been able to. i just finished season four, and have to send a shoutout to my man for patiently listening to me tearily recount each episode and comforting me through it. i know my coworkers will be glad when i burn through season five and end it for all of them. i’ve been finding some solidarity with our customers over how great the show is, and i’m pleased to know that i’m not the only one who is obsessively watching it now-it’s like when i fell into call the midwife-both times i’ve been concurrently watching my library dvd with people using the netflix. god, family, football-this show sheds a lot of insight into the alternate universe that is sports and the lack of options in a small town. i’m looking forward to reading the book-perhaps it will be just as supplementary as orange is the new black in all forms.

living in montreal for three years, i’ve come to fear festival programs in all their resplendency that will eventually turn into landfill fodder (i’ve always had problems with waste) so i quit looking at them years ago. i’ve never tiff’d or hotdoc’d on purpose, partly because of the above reason. but i have been lucky enough to be gifted with tickets to the aforementioned film festivals by customers, and today’s offering was the secret trial 5 directed by amar wala. i always wonder how these things end up being packed at 1:30 on a monday, but hey-i’m glad there was an audience for this film.

also, i have a regular to thank for blowing my poet’s mind with eunoia by christian bok. i know i can be a hardass when it comes to having high expectations of poets, writers, performers, rappers-basically anyone who speaks words in public. i suppose it can be annoying-but every now and again-i’m confirmed in my stance, because i come across someone who makes something that exemplifies the merits of cultivating one’s talent. right about now-this is that. i can’t believe how this idea works, in form and content. i love the way it’s poetry, prose, concept and execution. i’ve been thinking about how poems translate onto the page (not often very well) and here this collection comes along that does it so well that i want to figure out a way to do it too.

this year’s playoffs have been quite interesting, no? if the actual games haven’t been electrifying enough, forty million dollar slaves continues to persist in los angeles and beyond. i suppose this is as good a time as any to question the system of “owners” and “players”. shall we?

i found out the other night that i hate kevin garnett‘s face. brooklyn may be the oldest and most expensive team in the league, and while i can concede that they may have better individual players, we have a better team. they also shouldn’t have preemptively bought all those brooms-but it’s a good thing they can just drive them across the bridge, as i’m sure phil jackson already has some plans for them.

raptors in 6, as long as we play defense and chuck hayes.

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