<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2565391618968969855</id><updated>2011-12-22T22:19:15.018-05:00</updated><category term='Cornerstone'/><category term='baby Seuss'/><category term='Literature'/><category term='Crossfire'/><category term='Ralph Waldo Emerson'/><category term='teenage-nonconformist Seuss :P'/><category term='Humbug'/><category term='Arctic Monkeys'/><category term='Brandon Flowers New Single'/><category term='Band of Outsiders'/><title type='text'>Seuss</title><subtitle type='html'>"The stars are blazing like rebel diamonds cut out of the sun... 
Can you read my mind?"
-B. Flowers</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Seuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00853624872799644570</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/SWKoDSwenGI/AAAAAAAAACE/R7NukV4iUBA/S220/100_0850.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2565391618968969855.post-8457251803443985209</id><published>2011-07-16T21:05:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-16T21:19:15.467-04:00</updated><title type='text'>“Ou est elle la Mortz toujours future ou passee apeine est-elle presente, que déjà elle n’est plus" engraved quote in the catacombs</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Sitting on the steps outside the student dorm for a cigarette at around 2 am is one of the few moments I really felt like I’m in Paris.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Seeing the Eiffel Tower the other day and walking the champs eilysees did nothing for me.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wasn’t expecting a moment of awe at the sight of the tower but I guess it’s just something you have to do when you are in Paris for the first time.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Parisness of the tower is diluted with the many tourists and the thousands of replications and distortions they satisfyingly create with their cameras.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The garbage they leave behind after ordering food and drinks from the street vendors that profit on the millions of sightseers is different from the vomit looking crap I see outside this building where I stay.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It could be some other international student’s trash who thinks they can get drunk and be reckless because they are in Paris.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But I choose to romanticize this piece of crap I see before me and associate it with the thousands of people that tread the streets every day to walk to work, go to a café to read or write, buy their groceries or walk simply because it’s a beautiful city for walking.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The wetness of the streets after a day of pouring rain brightens everything with reflection, and increases the sound of life in passing cars and exhausted footsteps. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The damp, cold blocks of cements giving me a pleasurable chill, the streetlights piercing through the trees aligned along the road, the wet bedraggled building from across the street with the marks of shootings that were never painted over in memory of a WW2 veteran shot and killed against this wall, the smell the rain brings of trees and gasoline combined with cigarette smoke… the surroundings that I can feel with my senses make me “in the moment;” a moment of being. Existing in a different time, being a part of it because it seeps into my present and I &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;be in&lt;/i&gt; it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Book I'm reading: Selected Essays by George Orwell&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Song I'm listening to:&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AS6B0GdCa9w&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt; I'm throwing my arms around Paris - Morrissey &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2565391618968969855-8457251803443985209?l=msseuss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/feeds/8457251803443985209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2565391618968969855&amp;postID=8457251803443985209' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/8457251803443985209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/8457251803443985209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/2011/07/ou-est-elle-la-mortz-toujours-future-ou.html' title='“Ou est elle la Mortz toujours future ou passee apeine est-elle presente, que déjà elle n’est plus&quot; engraved quote in the catacombs'/><author><name>Seuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00853624872799644570</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/SWKoDSwenGI/AAAAAAAAACE/R7NukV4iUBA/S220/100_0850.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2565391618968969855.post-1478639740878715793</id><published>2011-03-30T22:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T23:04:40.114-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"There isn't much there if I'd need a solid soul and blood I bleed"</title><content type='html'>Happiness is loving yourself. Love is loving yourself through others*. What haunts us till our death is our narcissistic instincts. Most of our attempts at self-expression are derived from the image our ego constructs. Every "self-less" deed we enact is tainted with our need to be recognized by an other as 'good' and our hopes that it would be reflected into our self-perception and which would only feed into our selfishness. How can we convince ourselves that we can break out of it? How can we acquire a satisfaction from helping others without the narcissistic self gratification that we will always seek.  Would this be found in helping the dead who is not in a conscious state of recognition? The fact that we seek something out of the deed... as little as a feeling, makes it inevitably selfish.  Is breaking out of it ever a possibility? Humans will always be damned by their consciences, whether good or bad. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* Lacan and Freud through Lacan, respectively. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Song I'm listening to: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zol2MJf6XNE&amp;amp;feature=relmfu"&gt;My Girls&lt;/a&gt; - Animal Collective&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Book I'm reading: House of Biswas by V.S Naipaul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2565391618968969855-1478639740878715793?l=msseuss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/feeds/1478639740878715793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2565391618968969855&amp;postID=1478639740878715793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/1478639740878715793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/1478639740878715793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/2011/03/there-isnt-much-there-if-id-need-solid.html' title='&quot;There isn&apos;t much there if I&apos;d need a solid soul and blood I bleed&quot;'/><author><name>Seuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00853624872799644570</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/SWKoDSwenGI/AAAAAAAAACE/R7NukV4iUBA/S220/100_0850.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2565391618968969855.post-6054207017512265725</id><published>2010-11-16T21:24:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-16T21:05:20.878-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I come back to my empty apartment. Turn on the yellow lights.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Take off my black leather jacket and sticky red rubber boots. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My wool shirt, my faded jeans,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;as I stand in front of the mirror:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The only object of reflection I posses; insufficiently superficial.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I stand before the image I see. The contours of my body carefully and precisely structured by the nude corset. Intentionally discolored to hide its work of bottling me into a shape. Distorting. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I take it off. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I see more marks inscribed on my body.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Unrelentingly carving, more sternly than the piece I had dropped. Clothing me heavier than the winter garments at my feet.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Weighing me down, rooting me, digging my feet deep into the Golden sand. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Song I'm listening to: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8mwhr2O7aYg"&gt;Blue as your Blood&lt;/a&gt; - The Walkmen&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Books I'm reading: More than I want to&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2565391618968969855-6054207017512265725?l=msseuss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/feeds/6054207017512265725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2565391618968969855&amp;postID=6054207017512265725' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/6054207017512265725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/6054207017512265725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-wrote-this-piece-of-shhhwork-in-just.html' title=''/><author><name>Seuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00853624872799644570</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/SWKoDSwenGI/AAAAAAAAACE/R7NukV4iUBA/S220/100_0850.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2565391618968969855.post-8842647806979381340</id><published>2010-06-17T18:02:00.016-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T02:25:32.419-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crossfire'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Band of Outsiders'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brandon Flowers New Single'/><title type='text'>Band of Outsiders</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Anyone who tells you people shouldn't be judged by appearance doesn't know what they're talking about.  If you show up to class in your pajama pants and a ragged t-shirt, I won't lie, I will very much judge you.  And I don't care if you're an undergrad and your dorm is a minute away and it's summer and you hate this class but are taking it to increase your chances of getting into grad school. Put some pants and comb your hair. People in their worn out pjs who cruise with their carts around market aisles never escape my scornful eyes. Ok, that's pushing it too much. I'm not a smug. I just don't like the "comfy, yet so ugly" attitude about dressing. It tells me that you're a very lazy person and you don't have a sense of style and are very proud of it and I don't want be friends with you.  I'm kidding. You can be my friend. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;So, I hope this serves as a nice little introduction to my humble review about men's fashion featuring one of my most favorite clothing lines: &lt;a href="https://shopbandofoutsiders.com/"&gt;Band of Outsiders &lt;/a&gt;and its diffusion line, Boy by Band of Outsiders.  I love men's clothes and I love to see men in nice clothes. And that, obviously, is a big part of my attraction to Mr. Flowers (I'll always try to find a reason to mention his name, and speaking of Flowers, stay tuned for a nice little treat I picked out from his new album at the end of this post). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrDYwnkiAI/AAAAAAAAAOU/vJnCszwvdLM/s1600/8+YachtClubTruck_DGDF_WEB.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrDYwnkiAI/AAAAAAAAAOU/vJnCszwvdLM/s320/8+YachtClubTruck_DGDF_WEB.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483910326412150786" style="cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrDYsUgGrI/AAAAAAAAAOM/qRhc_VNOX8Y/s1600/16Rooftop_LMDGDF_WEB.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrDYsUgGrI/AAAAAAAAAOM/qRhc_VNOX8Y/s320/16Rooftop_LMDGDF_WEB.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483910325258427058" style="cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrDYsUgGrI/AAAAAAAAAOM/qRhc_VNOX8Y/s1600/16Rooftop_LMDGDF_WEB.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;This piece of information is my own guess and conclusion so don't take it to heart, but I'm almost sure that the brand takes its name from the 1964 French film, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Bande à part, which means, uh, yes, you guessed it.. Band of Outsiders! I &lt;i&gt;really &lt;/i&gt;like that movie and if you watch it, you'll see that the brand doesn't only take the name but also the fashion. I just wish someone would confirm this assumption for me by providing a source. I would feel a great sense of triumph, and, you know, that's a feeling we're always on the look for. It all makes sense to me since the designer's, Scott Sternberg,  clothes are &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;trés&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;français&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; inspired, yet he keeps the Americana look there.  To me it screams New York swagger.  New Yorker kid with a Frenc&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;h Grandpa. But I must mention that the brand is Cali based, in spite of all that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 15px;font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;This is from the Fall 2010 collection. Spring is not up yet. But I love these so much:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrDlGefWEI/AAAAAAAAAOs/6qr05F40_8I/s1600/bo2_11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrDlGefWEI/AAAAAAAAAOs/6qr05F40_8I/s320/bo2_11.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483910538438072386" style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Off-white, dark navy, sky blue and white.  Only this designer could pull these colors off without making it sailor-look inspired. I could've done without the gloves though. Nothing against gloves, it's just they're too matchy here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrDZgXSEYI/AAAAAAAAAOk/HGJySRWZ1Tk/s1600/00050m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrDZgXSEYI/AAAAAAAAAOk/HGJySRWZ1Tk/s320/00050m.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483910339228733826" style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;On a snowy Manhattan day (yes, I'm sticking to what I said about the NYC look)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBq1dfvcWEI/AAAAAAAAAN0/hRHDM_vPLtg/s1600/bo2_11.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrDZAeMxLI/AAAAAAAAAOc/pE-T7yC_Reo/s1600/00010m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrDZAeMxLI/AAAAAAAAAOc/pE-T7yC_Reo/s320/00010m.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483910330667812018" style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;For guys who aren't afraid to wear plaid pants&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrDlXEOheI/AAAAAAAAAO0/whsXbmPkpjs/s1600/bo2_14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrDlXEOheI/AAAAAAAAAO0/whsXbmPkpjs/s320/bo2_14.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483910542891320802" style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;My favorite. Maybe not runway fashionable, but that's why it's meant to be adorned almost anywhere by any fashionably sensible guy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;and the one below is from the Spring 2010 collection that I was tempted to sneak in over here. You understand why. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrE4UQyIFI/AAAAAAAAAO8/qIO7z6bUx50/s1600/00290m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrE4UQyIFI/AAAAAAAAAO8/qIO7z6bUx50/s320/00290m.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483911968067821650" style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;Song I'm listening to: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.brandonflowersmusic.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;Crossfire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt; by Brandon Flowers (what else would I be listening to?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2565391618968969855-8842647806979381340?l=msseuss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/feeds/8842647806979381340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2565391618968969855&amp;postID=8842647806979381340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/8842647806979381340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/8842647806979381340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/2010/06/band-of-outsiders.html' title='Band of Outsiders'/><author><name>Seuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00853624872799644570</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/SWKoDSwenGI/AAAAAAAAACE/R7NukV4iUBA/S220/100_0850.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/TBrDYwnkiAI/AAAAAAAAAOU/vJnCszwvdLM/s72-c/8+YachtClubTruck_DGDF_WEB.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2565391618968969855.post-4632263130614120699</id><published>2010-05-21T01:20:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T02:36:56.396-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Photos, Songs and Muted TVs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;* I'm not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;big&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; on picture-taking. I say picture-taking because photography seems to imply professionalism. Everyone's a photographer, now that we have digital cameras and accessible photoshop. Some pursue it as an art, which is great. And some are good at it, some not so (par exemple, moi). I think it's because I don't trust pictures that I don't like to take them. How many photos do we have of boring Eid parties that weren't as half as fun as the photos make them to be? Also, I'm not particularly photogenic. Ask anyone who's seen pics of me, they'll tell you that. (My fake smile makes me look like I'm in pain).  My distrust of pictures sort of began when one of my professors once brought to our attention how, in this day and age, people seem to have the urge to mediate their experiences through some form of technology, because they might feel like it helps experience them better, which in reality comes in between the person and the thing that they're experiencing.  I think it takes away from the experience itself when you are most concerned about taking the picture. Also, I think, with time the value we have of the time/experience will be contained mostly if not strictly in the mediated image and not the memory we have. The experience, then, becomes the image and not vice versa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Having said that, one photo I am so glad was taken is the one of me, Mochness and Alex Turner of Arctic Monkeys.  I have praised his artistic genius in a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://msseuss.blogspot.com/2009/12/album-review.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;previous post&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; and have expressed my deep admiration of his music and lyrical talents, and you could only imagine how thrilled I was to see him in person. I just wish I had a chance to ask him about his influences when it comes to his lyrics, I've always wanted to know about that.  Meeting him, I realized, he's much more down to earth than he lets him seem like. Nothing interesting happened, except he almost signed my ticket twice, until I told him that he'd already signed it, and he  exclaimed, sort of shyly, with his beautiful british accent "I've already signed it?!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;* The Walkman's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XoyZiPbQLzY"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;On the Water&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; is a song I've previously posted here, but I just feel I should make a few comments on how excruciatingly beautiful it is. The song has a great atmosphere to it that is created by the sound of prominent, deep bass (which I think characterizes the album as a whole), hints of muted guitar and, toward the end of the song, a repetitive crash cymbal hit and a weird whisteling hymn. The instruments harmonize beautifully to create a sense of surrealism that mostly comes about in the lyrics.  The song starts:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;All the windows are glowing, branches bending low&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;skyline is swinging, rocking back and forth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;walking down the dirt road&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Watching at the sky...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; And to top it off, the video is emotionally wrenching and is about cute little bunnies :( Watch it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;* I recently came across a nice little quote by Andy Warhole where he talks about his attempted assassination by one of the people who worked at The Factory (a separatist feminist who formed a "group" called S.C.U.M [Society for Cutting up Men]).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; "People sometimes say that the way things happen in movies is unreal, but actually it's the way things happen in life that's unreal. The movies make emotions look so strong and real, whereas when things really do happen to you, it's like watching television – you don't feel anything. Right when I was being shot and ever since, I knew that I was watching television. The channels switch, but it's all television."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; I so totally agree with that.  Feeling existential, my TV is even on mute!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;* I also came across &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/05/11/diaspora-nyu-students-dev_n_571632.html"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; interesting article I found in the New York Times about a new social network called Diaspora* that's to be launched some time in the future. From it's name you could probably guess that it has a certain political persuasion, it comes as a reaction to other major networks' access and control in distributing the users personal informations. This one promises personal privacy, as users are able to set up their own personal servers and fully control the information they share.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:'times new roman', serif;font-size:medium;"&gt;* Brandon Flowers (a.k.a the most gorgeous man on earth) is currently embarking a new solo career with Flamingo, his debut album that's release date is yet to be announced. No need to panic now, he promises a fourth Killers album right after.  I'm sort of excited but not so much. I seem to have low expectations. I was hardly impressed with their last album and recent singles, and if his album follows the same glitzy fluff of D&amp;amp;A, I most likely won't like it. I'm most excited that Pretty Flowers should be far more accessible when on a solo tour (said bearing only innocent thoughts, I swear).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16px;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S_Yjc10WCeI/AAAAAAAAANc/D12xGadEw2Q/s1600/brandon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S_Yjc10WCeI/AAAAAAAAANc/D12xGadEw2Q/s200/brandon.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473601375505353186" style="cursor: pointer; width: 199px; height: 200px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;(A new, post-Flamingo-announcement photo, I believe)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;Book I'm reading: The Life of Muhammed by Ibn Ishaq&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, serif;"&gt;Song I'm listening to: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJCNKxt3VLA"&gt;Keep in Mind&lt;/a&gt; - Little Joy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;   &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2565391618968969855-4632263130614120699?l=msseuss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/feeds/4632263130614120699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2565391618968969855&amp;postID=4632263130614120699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/4632263130614120699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/4632263130614120699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/2010/05/photos-songs-and-muted-tvs.html' title='Photos, Songs and Muted TVs'/><author><name>Seuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00853624872799644570</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/SWKoDSwenGI/AAAAAAAAACE/R7NukV4iUBA/S220/100_0850.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S_Yjc10WCeI/AAAAAAAAANc/D12xGadEw2Q/s72-c/brandon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2565391618968969855.post-5686909963514727597</id><published>2010-04-27T12:40:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T02:26:08.777-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ralph Waldo Emerson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenage-nonconformist Seuss :P'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby Seuss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literature'/><title type='text'>"A Defense of Poesy"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;     One of the disadvantages of being the youngest child in the family for seven years of your life is that, in many cases, you're the last to learn how to do something.  Before I started grade school, I wanted to learn to read so bad.  I didn't understand why a pharmacy would hang a huge sign that said "24 horse," or why our SHARP TV would tell us to "shut up."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;This one time when I was just four and a few months old, I was alone watching that same TV set when a commercial for Hooked on Phonics came on.  They sell books and, I think, cassettes that teach children how to read.  I can remember how excited I was seeing those kids read with their books and phony smiles. Heck, I still remember the number I dialed to order it when I just couldn't wait till my parents got home: 1-800-ABCDEFG.  Of course, the lady on the other end asked me my age and then told me I had to get an adult to call.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;     We never ordered those books, but it wasn't too long that I was able to read my first book with chapters: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Dear Mr. Henshaw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;.   I grew up reading various kinds of books, a few in Arabic but mostly in English.  Reading books of fiction provided escapism for me as a teenager (although, I'd say music was my ultimate getaway).  It doesn't come as a surprise that I chose to major in English literature after finishing high school (English literature and linguistics, to be precise). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;     It was during my college years that I truly began to understand my fascination with reading literature.  It was no longer just a fun hobby and an indulgence of a girl with an eager sense of imagination, but I began to see that it is an active and continuous process of understanding, interpreting and evaluating fundamental issues about yourself and the life that surrounds you, as fiction creates space for the reader to view life from different angles.  I began to understand the importance of studying it, for literature as a discipline encompasses various studies, i.e philosophy, psychology, sociology, history, politics, race, gender... you name it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;While what I learned concerning these studies is invaluable, I am most appreciative of what I've learned about myself.  In literature I found an articulation of  all the thoughts I had that I didn't know had words for.   At the top of my head, one of the important texts that really contributed in shaping who I am is Emerson's "Self-Reliance," and his talk about the importance of individuality.  As a sort of passive teenage rebel, I &lt;i&gt;loved &lt;/i&gt;this quote he says: "Society is a joint-stock  company [...] The virtue in most request is conformity.  Self-reliance is its aversion." Emerson tells it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;     I now have an MA in English literature and I plan to continue to study in the near future inshallah, and many times I get a confused response from people when I tell them my major.  I know there are those who are not exposed enough or who simply lack depth to understand the point of it all, but the number of times I've met with that weirded out face confounds me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Book I'm reading: To the Lighthouse by, currently my biggest girl crush, Virginia Woolf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Song I'm listening to: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ezdAiDh31D8&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Take you on a cruise&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; - Interpol (a band I can never ever get sick of)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2565391618968969855-5686909963514727597?l=msseuss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/feeds/5686909963514727597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2565391618968969855&amp;postID=5686909963514727597' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/5686909963514727597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/5686909963514727597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/2010/04/defense-of-poesy.html' title='&quot;A Defense of Poesy&quot;'/><author><name>Seuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00853624872799644570</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/SWKoDSwenGI/AAAAAAAAACE/R7NukV4iUBA/S220/100_0850.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2565391618968969855.post-6945515924226384397</id><published>2010-01-17T23:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T19:29:44.579-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Twenty-nine different attributes, only seven that you like" -Julian Casablancas</title><content type='html'>This is to share seven of my favorite stuff. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1- I'll start of with an excellent TV series called &lt;i&gt;Dark Shadows &lt;/i&gt;that I've been watching lately.  It's a gothic soap opera from the mid 60's that features vampires, witches, time machines and all that jazz. It's over a thousand episodes, so I only watch the ones that involve vampires. If you've watched The Vampire Dairies on CW or have read the book, you'll see where the writers of that show/book get their ideas. And wait till you here this, the main vampire's name is Barnabas Collins... &lt;i&gt;Collins&lt;/i&gt;! ring a bell? There's also a short lived remake of only the vampire's story that was aired in 1991, which I think is also good but definitely not &lt;i&gt;as&lt;/i&gt; good. It was on for only 12 episodes.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2- &lt;a href="http://www.dillards.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ProductDisplay?catalogId=301&amp;amp;storeId=301&amp;amp;langId=-1&amp;amp;productId=501584956"&gt;Dior Hydraction Tinted &lt;/a&gt;is my current favorite cosmetic product. I'm not usually up to date with these things, but this is an item that could be useful to many people.   It's essentially facial moisturizer that is tinted, which works as an immediate skintoner, so it's a great substitute for skin foundation and/or powder. And that's not all, it also works as sun block with SPF 20! Very natural look, and very, very useful. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3- If you treat your hair like I do and you abuse it by frequently dying it, blow drying etc etc then &lt;a href="http://www.superdrug.com/content/ebiz/superdrug/invt/707851/707851_l.jpg"&gt;Aussie Miracle Moist hair conditioner&lt;/a&gt; is the product for you. I treat my hair so bad; if my scalp could leave me and run off with someone else's head, it would leave in a second. So sometimes it looks awfully too dry and this is the only conditioner that's ever worked for me when my hair was acting out. Problem is, I got it from the UK and I don't know if it's available in many places. The one that's sold in the states (comes in a purple bottle) is no good, and it's coconut scented. Bleh!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4- Since we're still talking appearances, my top favorite clothing lines are Marc by Marc Jacobs and Alexander Mcqueen.  The first is quirky and playful, the other super edgy.  Both very far from normality.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MARC&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1fyRze4lhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/giMiwzSxQNs/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1fyRze4lhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/giMiwzSxQNs/s200/1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429074263509866002" style="cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1fySuJDRPI/AAAAAAAAAMs/nmH3om5PBeo/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1fySuJDRPI/AAAAAAAAAMs/nmH3om5PBeo/s200/4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429074279255983346" style="cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1fySuJDRPI/AAAAAAAAAMs/nmH3om5PBeo/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1fySeIkNEI/AAAAAAAAAMk/TBeWP268G3M/s1600-h/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1fySeIkNEI/AAAAAAAAAMk/TBeWP268G3M/s200/2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429074274958980162" style="cursor: pointer; width: 137px; height: 200px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1f0yvp8NYI/AAAAAAAAANE/EBkMHUOCmSY/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1f0yvp8NYI/AAAAAAAAANE/EBkMHUOCmSY/s200/3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429077028441437570" style="cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1f0yvp8NYI/AAAAAAAAANE/EBkMHUOCmSY/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These are two of items I have by Mcqueen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1f1NpROdcI/AAAAAAAAANM/GyBnPq3pIcg/s1600-h/med-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1f1NpROdcI/AAAAAAAAANM/GyBnPq3pIcg/s200/med-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429077490583631298" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1fyS-CdUTI/AAAAAAAAAM0/X7ZJ9MQ4BvQ/s1600-h/med-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1fyS-CdUTI/AAAAAAAAAM0/X7ZJ9MQ4BvQ/s200/med-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429074283523297586" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1fyS-CdUTI/AAAAAAAAAM0/X7ZJ9MQ4BvQ/s1600-h/med-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1fy21ZueHI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Bf2KxyZ2yHk/s1600-h/med-2.jpg"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;5- Organic almond butter, berry jam, and fresh, sliced strawberries in toasted whole wheat bread --&lt;i&gt;best sandwich ever&lt;/i&gt;!  And if it's for breakfast, then I'll also have a mix of fresh blueberries and raspberries in a bowl of vanilla yogurt --&lt;i&gt;best breakfast ever!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6- No fav list by Seuss would be complete without a book recommendation.  The book I am favoriting is not the most brilliantly written nor intellectually stimulating book I've ever read. It's a short, simple book that had a deep impact on me, and it's called &lt;i&gt;The Perks of Being a Wallflower&lt;/i&gt; by Stephen Chbosky.  When I started reading it last month, I was waiting in the car for my mother while she was at a doctor's oppointment, and I had a mixed CD playing.  Sitting like that made me realize how much I felt I related to the protagonist, even though I'm certainly no genius.  It was a very emotional book and it hit me where it hurt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7- And I'll end this with a song.  I don't think I believe in favorite songs, since I like different songs in different ways, but I've always believed that The Strokes' Heart in a Cage (&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cbRe5mxR0q0"&gt;album version here&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFfwVVkKz28&amp;amp;feature=PlayList&amp;amp;p=454C0F48D569DCA3&amp;amp;playnext=1&amp;amp;playnext_from=PL&amp;amp;index=32"&gt;live version here&lt;/a&gt;) is one of the best songs ever written, musically speaking.  This is my idea of an excellent song, in which every element stands out and hits hard.  The guitar riff at the beginning and middle, the way the sharp drumming is used as transition to each part, and then the heart-melting vocals make it superb.  Julian Casablancas writes all their music. Everything from guitar solos, bass lines, drums and lyrics, which is why he is one musical genius.  He says it best when he sings, "I've got music coming out of my hands and feet and kisses." I saw him on his solo tour a couple of weeks ago with Mochness and he was great live. Although, I didn't think his album was as great as any of the music he writes with The Strokes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2565391618968969855-6945515924226384397?l=msseuss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/feeds/6945515924226384397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2565391618968969855&amp;postID=6945515924226384397' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/6945515924226384397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/6945515924226384397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/2010/01/twenty-nine-different-attributes-only.html' title='&quot;Twenty-nine different attributes, only seven that you like&quot; -Julian Casablancas'/><author><name>Seuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00853624872799644570</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/SWKoDSwenGI/AAAAAAAAACE/R7NukV4iUBA/S220/100_0850.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/S1fyRze4lhI/AAAAAAAAAMU/giMiwzSxQNs/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2565391618968969855.post-5893133246053045812</id><published>2009-12-12T14:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T00:38:03.525-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arctic Monkeys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Humbug'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cornerstone'/><title type='text'>Album Review</title><content type='html'>Humbug by Arctic Monkeys:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I bought Arctic Monkey's third album a couple of months ago and it's been a current favorite ever since.  If you're already a fan of the band, then you'll find that it's different. This album veers from the double-speed aggression of their previous two towards heavier and, generally, slower tempo songs.  An eerie sound permeates the album, as the music takes on a darker tint, making it -I'll admit- less funky and upbeat.  Though their new material lacks the propulsion I've been used to hearing from these chavs, it trades it in with a mature and sophisticated sound, reflected  in Alex's low husky croons and in the turn toward experimentation, with the use of instruments like the haunted-house organ. The bitter witticism that majorly characterizes this English gutter-rock band has mounted into a "twisted and deranged" outlook that I, perhaps sadistically, appreciate.   I think one of the band's major strengths lies in Alex's observational story-telling and cryptic style of wordplay.  In the previous albums, his detail-rich tales are generally situated in the scum-ridden streets of England and it's working-class bars, depicting a uniquely British experience.  This Dickensian realism is consistent in Humbug, but is imbued with a phantasm reminiscent of Edgar Allen Poe's nightmarish sketches.   Here's a song that directly comes to mind:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;(Jeweler's Hands)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Fiendish wonder in the carnival's wake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Dull caresses once again irritate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Tread softly stranger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Move toward the danger that you seek&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;In the moonlight they're more thrilling those things that he knows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;As he leads you through the grinning bubble blowers in the snow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Watching his exit was like falling off the ferry in the nigh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Another one of my favorites is this sweet love ballad:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;(Cornerstone)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I thought I saw you in The Battleship but it was only a lookalike&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;She was nothing but a vision trick under the warning light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;She was close, close enough to be your ghost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;But my chances turned to toast when I asked her if I could call her your name&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I thought I saw you in The Parrot's Beak messing with the smoke alarm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;It was too loud for me to hear her speak and she had a broken arm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;It was close, so close that the walls were wet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;And she wrote it out in Letraset &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"No, you can't call me her name"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Tell me where's your hiding place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I'm worried I'll forget your face&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I've asked everyone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I'm beginning to think I imagined you all along&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I saw your sister in The Cornerstone on the phone to the middle man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;When I saw that she was on her own I thought she might understand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;She was close, well you couldn't get much closer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;She said "I'm really not supposed to but yes, you can call me anything you want"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alex Turner at the show I attended a couple of weeks ago (got the pic from a website)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/SzL9yVZw-pI/AAAAAAAAALM/KXE38u2uUoo/s1600-h/20091209-174945-842259.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/SzL9yVZw-pI/AAAAAAAAALM/KXE38u2uUoo/s400/20091209-174945-842259.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418672342860626578" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 307px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Book I'm reading: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Song I'm listening to: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIQz6zZi7R0"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Cornerstone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; by Arctic Monkeys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2565391618968969855-5893133246053045812?l=msseuss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/feeds/5893133246053045812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2565391618968969855&amp;postID=5893133246053045812' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/5893133246053045812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/5893133246053045812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/2009/12/album-review.html' title='Album Review'/><author><name>Seuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00853624872799644570</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/SWKoDSwenGI/AAAAAAAAACE/R7NukV4iUBA/S220/100_0850.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/SzL9yVZw-pI/AAAAAAAAALM/KXE38u2uUoo/s72-c/20091209-174945-842259.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2565391618968969855.post-3877023959532044226</id><published>2008-11-14T17:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T11:47:16.170-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ulysses- my thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(68,68,68); LINE-HEIGHT: 19pxfont-family:'Segoe UI';font-size:13;"  &gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: baseline"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Finally done reading &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Ulysses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; for class.  This has been a slow process as I thought I would stick with the weekly readings instead of finishing it all at once.  Loved the book, except I wouldn't recommend it to just anyone.  It's a tough book to read and requires some level of familiarity and expertise.  Joyce's dealing with narratives styles and character complexity is at its best.  Each of the 18 chapters takes up a different writing style, eg. one is done in play form, one in questions and answers, one in tired cliches, and one in parodies of the different literary styles throughout the centuries.  It's pretty fascinating the way he does it and how it reflects the subjects of the chapters and events.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: baseline"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Read the book if you're in for some twisted humor, witty and philosophical insights, and an extremely dull plot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: baseline"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Before each class, we are required to pick any favorite quote from the book and comment on it, and so I've chosen to copy one of my entries here in hopes that will give you an idea on what to expect, and, hopefully, a push into reading it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inheritfont-family:inherit;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inherit"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"Wait.  Five months.  Molecules all change.  I am other I now.  Other I got Pound.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inherit"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inherit"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Buzz.  Buzz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inherit"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;But I, entelechy, form of forms, am I by memory because under everchanging forms."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inherit"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;(Stephen, 189)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inherit"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inherit"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;In the middle of his intellectual debate, Stephen remembers the money he owes A.E. and attempts to justify why he still hasn't paid off his debt by arguing in an interior thought that he is no longer the person he was when he took the money, and that in five months he won't be the same person he is now.  Though it may seem like a cheesy way of escaping his guilt, Stephen makes an interesting point about his existence, or rather his "actuality."  Stephen's first sentence presents a view of time as linear, in which his existence is bounded by the limitations of time. Stephen immediately presents an apposing idea based on Aristotle's "entelechy" concept that existence or "actuality" is perpetuated by a "form-giving cause."  The idea of the continuity of the self that transcends the boundaries of time, for some reason, brings to mind the concept of the Unity of Being as formed by W.B Yeats-- one of Stephen's (and Joyce's) influences.  In his poetry, Yeats aspires to reach an organic and unified existence through art.  In"Among School Children" Yeats writes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inherit"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inherit"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"Or else, to alter Plato's parable, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inherit"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Into the yolk and white of the one shell."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inherit"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inherit"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Interestingly, Yeats, as Stephen, apposes Plato and argues that his past, present, and future are as unified as the yoke, the white and the shell that formulate the existence of the egg.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inherit"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: baseline; LINE-HEIGHT: 1.5em; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px; border-: inherit"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;--Sara A.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2565391618968969855-3877023959532044226?l=msseuss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/feeds/3877023959532044226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2565391618968969855&amp;postID=3877023959532044226' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/3877023959532044226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2565391618968969855/posts/default/3877023959532044226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://msseuss.blogspot.com/2008/11/finally-done-reading-ulysses-for-class.html' title='Ulysses- my thoughts'/><author><name>Seuss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00853624872799644570</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRLoJxaywhs/SWKoDSwenGI/AAAAAAAAACE/R7NukV4iUBA/S220/100_0850.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
