The Catch 22 of posting writing snippets

Had to take some of my older posts down today. Not that anyone has looked at them, but they seemed to be potential candidates for submission to short short story ezines, and apparently, new submissions cannot appear in print or online anywhere. Bummer. So what do you post online if you can't post your writing for fear of being unable to submit it later? I wish someone had an answer to this. I mean, simply posting random scribbling his hardly indicative of what you really write, and you can't post better material for the reason I just mentioned above. Catch 22. I guess, once you have got them published, or if no one will actually touch the stuff, you can eventually put it back up. But seems a little sad to me.

Ancient Ecosystem Found in Ice Pocket: Discovery News

Ancient Ecosystem Found in Ice Pocket: Discovery News

Yet another Led Zeppelin rumor?

So I read today that Peter Mensch, Jimmy Page's manager is stirring the Zep pot again. Enough with this humor/rumor business. Why can't these guys just make up their minds and say out loud what we all know they really want to do?

I have no problems personally with Page, Jones and Jason Bonham going out with a singer of their choice. The guys are awesome enough to be a must-see under any circumstances. Whether they go as Zep is another question, but, to my mind, I'd rather see them as Zep than not see them at all.

I don't get Robert Plant. I mean, his gig with Alison Krauss is cool, but where's the balls in that? So okay, finish the tour and then do the Zep thing. Surely he couldn't have been treated so badly in the old Zep that he can't stand to work with these guys again? He's worked with Page many times in the past. I have a sneaky feeling that he can't really do those tunes anymore (I mean, the way he did them years ago).

As a final yell in this Zep rant, here's my sincere request to the remaining members of the band...

Please please, guys, don't take Steven Tyler out with you as a singer. That would be a disaster of epic proportions. Maybe David Coverdale, or Myles Kennedy, or Ann Wilson, as some forums are suggesting. Steven Tyler with Zeppelin would be like Mick Jagger fronting the Beatles. An abomination!

In any case, its going to be scramble to get tickets for this. Mark my words. These will be some of the hottest scores for 2009.

NIGHT MOON

Soft as a sigh gently exhaled,
Luna hoists her billowing sail.
Pursuing Sol's bright spoor until
Subsumed by horizon's veil.
Bringing respite from the toil of day,
Heralds the hour when lovers play.
Shadows slip silently over lip and sill,
Ghosts of clouds driven where they will.
Substance adheres to imagined form,
And furtive whispers swirl anon.

Quiescent after the clamorous fray,
The pulse of human commerce sleeps.
Only those stragglers on their way
To hearth and home, or tryst to keep.
Now the time of mouse and owl.
Of feline predators on the prowl.
While over all, the gleaming globe
Covers the earth in a shining robe.
A sea of hazy shimmering light,
Where mortal dreams slide through the night.


© Bryan Knower

Been feeling a bit tired lately, and I took to wondering whether the weather is related to whether I feel good on any particular day. If the temperature drops and the sun hides, does that trigger some synapse hiding in my brain, telling me "be sad?" Not to say that this is a new and original thought. People have been saying it for a long time. Must be some truth in it somewhere, kinda like 'old wives' tales or folk stories. Always a kernal of truth in that nucleus. I just remembered that in the Scandinavian countries, the rate of suicide is higher in the winter months when the sun disappears for months on end. So, does the sun feed the soul in some way? Why would a rational healthy person contemplate suicide just because its winter? After all, we are cognizent beings, and presumably all of those poor souls who actually carried through after contemplating must have know that the sun reappears after a time. A throwback to a more primitive age, when we didn't actually 'know' as much as we think we do now? I'm thinking that there must be something hiding in the collective subconscious, and it is darker than we would like to let on. But wait a minute, what about the eskimo people? They don't have such irrational thoughts, or do they. Who ever heard of an eskimo committing suicide because of the lack of sunlight during the arctic winter? Maybe they do, and I just don't know about it. Gotta research this sometime. Anyway, I'm feeling much better now that I know others are more irrational than I am. Cheers!

And so it begins. I try not to look furtively over my shoulder as I do this. A blog? So what do I write in a blog? Doesn't matter at this point. I'm writing in it already. So now people can read the crap I write and laugh. See, I'm paranoid already. That's me, the paranoid scribbler, always looking at the dark side, and I don't mean the Darth Vader kind of dark side. More like the 'why the hell can't I do better than this' dark side. Maybe thats why most of what people write never sees the light of day? I am probably wrong with this. Wiki says there are millions of blogs out there, so tons of people are having their stuff exposed to the light of day. Then again, maybe not. Who reads this stuff anyway? Is this like an alternate universe where you can live vicariously as who you imagine yourself to be? What if others don't like your alternate persona? Can you be as paranoid in an alternate universe as in this one? I feel like a dog trying to catch his tail. So close but always just out of reach. But I'll catch that damn thing someday, even if I have to reach inside out and get it from within. If a blog goes unread does it exist? Does the simple act of writing on this page make it so? Maybe I should be the existential blogger, but I like paranoid better. I'm paranoid, (who would have guessed? ), and I'm paranoid that others are not as paranoid as I am. God, what a juvenile play on words. I should leave this before it gets worse, but I can't. Like scratching a wound that's scabbed over. You know its going to take longer to heal, but it feels sooooo good! Maybe tomorrow I'll have something saner to say. Don't follow me. I have no money and there is no computer in my car.