Why Lucian is Awesome

This is from Dialogues of the Dead:

Diogenes: “But, my handsome Mausolus, of your beauty and strength nothing more is to be seen, and if I should call in question your advantageous figure, you would not be able to give the judge a reason why your skull is more beautiful than mine. Both are peeled and bare, our teeth grin on both sides in like manner, and instead of eyes we have both empty holes and flat, apish noses. As to your monument, and the costly marble of which it is built, the inhabitants of Halicarnassus may certainly have reason to shew it to strangers, and to think much of themselves for possessing so great a work of art within their walls: but, my comely gentleman, what sort of enjoyment you should have of it, I see not; you should then only say, that you bear a heavier load than the rest of us, since you have an enormous heap of stones lying upon you.”

The Insidious Effrontery of Ontology

Norman Young wanted
To say something new.
I matter! he cried,
But none could hear him
Over the clamor,
Clatter, bustle, and
Discord of the world.
He sat and thought, but
Grew impatient when
Thinking was painful.
He resolved to yell
As loud as he could.
I matter! he screamed.
His voice unsettled
Buildings and houses,
Cracked windows, unmoored
Ships, but returned to
Norman unheeded.
I know, he thought, I’ll
Go somewhere higher:
Surely they’ll listen
When I’m above them.
He found a soapbox,
Stood upon it, and
Addressed the masses.
Brothers! he shouted,
Hear me—I matter!
And finally, finally,
He caught the notice
Of a passerby.
That is nothing new,
The man said curtly,
And he tipped his hat
And kept on walking.
Norman stood silent
Alone on his box,
Musing for hours.
Of course, he realized,
How stupid I’ve been!
How can I think I’ll
Say something different
When I don’t know what’s
Already been said?
He strained to listen,
But could not make out
A single voice in
The roar of the world.
Disappointed, he
turned to books. All things
Worth saying, he thought,
Are set down in print.
When I have read all
There is to read, then
I’ll know what’s been said.
Norman sat for days,
Weeks, months, years, decades
In the library.
His hair grew, his skin
Stretched, his face wrinkled.
He lost himself in
Homer, Persius,
Aristophanes,
Horace, Juvenal,
And witty Lucian.
Certainly, he thought,
They’ve covered a lot.
He picked up Chaucer,
More and Erasmus.
His teeth turned yellow,
His eyes strained to see.
He skimmed through Wyatt,
Nashe, Middleton next;
He was awed by both
Shakespeare and Jonson.
Dryden bored him, but
He found Rochester,
Pope, Gay and Fielding
Simply delightful.
He laughed a filthy
Laugh, and lost his teeth.
The flesh rubbed from his
Fingers and peeled from
His face; he smelled of
Mildew and decay.
Pus oozed from his pores.
Surely now, he thought,
I can stop reading.
There’s nothing more that
Can be said. But then
He came across Swift.
One more, he thought, can’t
Possibly hurt me—
But he was poisoned
By the harsh whip of
Anger, invective,
And hatred he
Found in those pages.
He stood, dead already,
And stumbled outside,
Knowing at last how
Little he mattered.
So what? What matter?
He thought, and mounted
The soapbox again.
His arm came out of
Its socket. His legs
Crumpled. His head sagged.
He fell to his knees.
I can say nothing,
He mouthed, but nothing
Came out.

The Bills Shit on My Life

Now that the Phillies have won the World Series - quietly, when everyone's back was turned, because we were all watching campaign commentary - maybe someone, somewhere will start paying attention to the fact that Buffalo fans are the most shat upon fans in the country.

We have teams in two major sports, neither of which have ever won a championship. (The Bills did win two AFL championships, in 1964 and 1965. But they haven't won since the merger in 1970.) The Bills made it to the Super Bowl four straight years and lost all four years. They haven't been to the playoffs since the 1999-2000 season, which ties the Detroit Lions for the second longest running playoff draught (the longest is held by the Cardinals, who last went to the playoffs in 1998, but they are a sure-in this year).

The Sabres made it to the Stanley Cup in 1974 - but lost - and again in 1999 - and lost again. That year, Buffalo lost on Brett Hull's no-goal in double overtime. They have made it to the Conference Finals twice in the past three years, but they don't seemed destined for greatness this year.

It is true that our minor sports teams have fared somewhat better. The Bisons (who, I just discovered, are no longer affiliated with the Indians, but with the Mets) have won their AAA league crown 3 times since 1979, the most recent of which was in 2004. The Bandits, our professional lacrosse team, has won championships 4 times since 1992. But the Blizzard (indoor soccer) never won anything before their league collapsed, and the Destroyers (arena football) were pathetic before they moved to Columbus.

The early '90s were our glory days, when the Bills would win (and then lose). Since then, we've suffered through a Homerun throwback ('99 Titans) and a handful of solid Sabres teams (especially the '06-'07 team that won the Presidents' Cup), but we've gotten more or less complacent with our mediocrity. We know we're going to lose. We expect to lose. We're great fans: we love our teams even though we are horribly and depressingly resigned to failure.

Then why, why did I start to believe that the Bills were really coming together when they started out 4-0? Why couldn't I have just kept my hopes and my expectations to a minimum?

The worst part is that I can't say, "Fuck you, Buffalo," and move on. I just can't.

Fcuk You, AT&T

There are two things that have recently come to my attention. First, I find myself in a murderous rage infrequently - perhaps even disappointingly infrequently. Secondly, the times that I am deliriously homicidal are almost always related, in some way, to either the cable company or the cell phone company.

I have spent more time arguing ridiculous charges, calling either or both companies out on neglected promises or breaches of contract, asking to speak to supervisors, and endeavoring to explain to the misguided - though frequently well-intentioned and occasionally blameless - customer service agents that what they have just told me defies reason.

The worst thing is that I don't particularly want the services that these companies offer. I need the internet; I pay for cable because it is only a few dollars more to get both cable and internet than it is to get internet service by itself. I use my cell phone, but I certainly don't need the internet on my phone. I always let myself get talked into the "you'd be stupid not to do it" argument, because, well, I'm just trying to get through life without looking stupid. (Like Brian Reagan, it's not going so well.)

So I agreed that it would be silly to get the new phone - which I needed, because the old phone was unusable - and not pay a few dollars a month for the discounted (but unlimited) internet service that went with it. I've used it occasionally, usually to check the news on the bus. Again, I paid for unlimited internet service. Why, then, was my cell phone bill last month $969?