Victor D. Infante's Blog, page 209

Quiet Now ...

Despite an impulse to be a homebody this weekend, I did manage to get out some. Dorinda came down from New Hampshire yesterday, and we went and saw Flora in Winter at the Worcester Art Museum, which is pretty much an annual event for us. The exhibit was spectacular, as always -- for those not around here, professional and amateur florists interpret works of art from the permanent collection with flowers. Our friend Kae is always one of the professionals, and her Lastman's "Paris and Oenone" w...

RIP Gabrielle Bouliane

Ask me what the candle means,
and I'll say, it's what flame always means --

there is a too-brief burning, and a light
that flies from here to elsewhere,

And  we're lighting candles nonetheless
praying that light speaks to light

carrying whispers to an unreachable place
on the other side of the darkness.

Ah, America ...

CBS is rejecting what is probably the least offensive commercial for a gay dating site ever from playing during the Super Bowl. Seriously, it's less offensive than your average Axe commercial by a factor of, like, 20. But of course, now the commercial is going viral on the Web, so the creators have all the publicity they could hope for.

All of which lead to me rambling about the Super Bowl in our kitchen, where sports is not usually the subject of discussion, culminating in this exchange:

Victo...

Blogging About Blogging (is the Loneliest Kind of Blogging ...)

The other day I wrote, "Ah, blogging about blogging. It's almost as tedious as writing poems about poetry. Almost." And I meant it. It seems my blog recently has been mostly in "upkeep" mode, as I delve into my winter projects, both household and creative -- new issue of The November 3rd Club in the works! -- but really, lately, the blog has been less than scintillating reading.

But, in the history of tedious and uninteresting things I have said on the Internet -- and trust me, there have been...

Thursdays are for Pimping

In "What You're Listening To": The Swaggerin' Growlers

In "The Weekend Starts Now": Recommendations for Refuse-Resist, Epica, Don White, Leaving Eden, M-Dot and Iyeoka Okoawo.

There's also a nice little bit in the paper about the Worcester County Poetry Association's 2010 Annual Poetry Contest.

Since It's Come Up a Couple Times ...

I've been screening "anonymous" comments -- meaning comments by people who don't have LJ accounts -- on this blog for a few weeks now, because I was having a problem with bots posting spam to it. As always, I have no intention of censoring anyone, unless it's libelous or insulting past the point of good taste. (And it's my blog, so I decide what "the point of good taste" means. Of course, I don't think I've actually deleted any comments. Maybe one or two, but none recently.)

The irony of this ...

Obligatory Social-Networking Update

Every now and then, I do a periodic update on which social networking sites I'm favoring, along with other Web-based odds and ends. Let's make amends for that, shall we?

VictorInfante.com remains the primary portal between my real life and various people seeking information about that. It also serves to confuse people looking for information on notorious international arms dealer Victor "The Jackal" Infante, who is not, to my knowledge, a relative. VictorInfante.com has information about my po...

Two Years of Poetry Readings

Sometimes, I get down on myself for not getting out and reading as much as some of my peers. And really, I'm not adverse, but the day job limits my touring opportunities somewhat, and also, frankly, eats into the time I have to organize, which is just as time-consuming, really. That's something I've been taking steps toward addressing this year, but still, once in a while I can't help but feel like I don't do enough.

Then, in the midst of doing a grant application, I made an inventory of every...

A Meditation Upon Scorn

We're a bit quick these days to heap scorn, aren't we? Every flaw, every infraction ... hell, every difference of opinion becomes a monumentally huge excuse to flail our arms, thump our chests and scream at the night about how every single little thing is making the world a terrible, terrible place and OMG DON'T YOU SEE HOW YOU'RE RUING AMERICA AND/OR MY LATE-NIGHT TV VIEWING HABITS?

Seriously, a little restraint is called for. If you dole out scorn too readily, it won't be as meaningful when ...

Thursdays Are For Pimping

*I talk to Fitchburg's Black Steel Peacock in What You're Listening To, and take an unfair swipe at the Red Hot Chili Peppers' ballads.

*A whole passle of good stuff in TWSN, with recs for Mikal, Arch Enemy, the LSD Enigma, Blair, the QX string quartet and Flora in Winter. Also, see if you can spot the place I reveal my totally unreasonable love of John Fred & His Playboy Band.

*And lastly, a nice little story by Craig Semon on the Worcester County Poetry Association's “The Places Poems Make&rdquo...