Slight Clutter

Thu, 21 Apr 2005 13:15:26 GMT

A New Home for Slight Clutter

Since Radio Loserland has the worst customer service on the face of the free planet, I have recently moved into a new Blog home, two to be exact.

Slight Clutter will be home to my ponderings, my remains of the day, and my "One More form the Wires" posts.

Slight Clutter's Photo Blog will be home to...well...my photos.

While I do plan to keep the Salon blog up and running (I paid for it, for crying out loud!), my posts here will be few and far between. I do plan to post fairly regularly, however, at my new home.

I hope all of you will stop by for a visit!

Tue, 19 Apr 2005 07:42:22 GMT

One More from the Wires: Man Set on Fire During Surgery

In the event of my having a medical emergency, please keep me away from Virginia Mason Medical Center at all costs. After mistakenly injecting a woman with toxic antiseptic solution back in 2003, a mistake that ultimately led to her premature demise, Virgina Mason is now faced with an investigation into the death of a man who burst into flames on one of hospital's emergency room tables.

Dr. Robert Caplan, the hospital's unfortunate medical director, stated that the roast was actually "a very small fire," and that it had nothing to do with the man's death, which Caplan attributed to problems involving the heart. While this is no doubt true, I wonder whether the smell of one's own burning flesh might not induce a heart attack in even those with the most stalwart constitutions.

Sun, 17 Apr 2005 12:48:18 GMT

One More from the Wires: Next up...Pilot's License!

Word out of Seoul, South Korea this past week is that 69-year-old Seo Sang-moon has finally passed the oral portion of his drivers test, and it only took him five years and 271 tries to do it.

It appears that Seo, an illiterate man unable to read his driver's manual, had been using the driver's license examinations as his means for learning the rules of the road. The cost of this unusual driver's education course - approximately $1000. The payoff - lifelong friends at the local DMV.

But the story doesn't end there, not hardly. Now that Seo has shown mastery of the laws governing the roadway, he will get the chance to really strut his stuff when he takes the helm of a four-wheeled wrecking machine for the driving portion of the driver's license examination. Here's what Seo had to say about the upcoming test:

Driving seems a bit hard. But after trying 271 times to pass the oral exam, what do I have to be afraid of?

What do you have to be afraid of, Seo? The 723 tickets that you will receive for moving violations before you die. Well, that...and parallel parking.

Thu, 14 Apr 2005 20:38:06 GMT

The Last Nine Songs Played on My Real Player (with Selected Lyrics)

Chemical Party

Gavin Degraw

“I think I like you

But you like this whole room

You sexy machine

I’m jing-a-linging from here to the ceiling

Inside I’m reeling

So fresh and so clean”

Prophet

Jude

“I’m keeping to myself

If you don’t mind

I don’t want to leave any fingerprints”

You Mama You

Jude

“Man loves woman

Mother loves child

Sometimes I call my lady mama

So I can feel at home for a while”

Kind and Generous

Natalie Merchant

“For your kindness I’m in debt to you

For your selflessness, my admiration”

Murder of One

Counting Crows

“Blue morning blue morning wrapped in strands of fists and bones

Curiosity, kitten,

Doesn’t have to mean you’re on your own”

Happy Phantom

Tori Amos

“And if I die today I’ll be the happy phantom

And I’ll go chasin’ the nuns out in the yard

And I’ll run naked through the streets without my mask on”

Winter

Tori Amos

“snow can wait
i forgot my mittens
wipe my nose
get my new boots on
i get a little warm in my heart
when i think of winter
i put my hand in my father's glove

i run off where the drifts get deeper
sleeping beauty trips me with a frown
i hear a voice
you must learn to stand up for yourself
cause i can't always be around”

Top of the World

Dixie Chicks

“I wished I was smarter

I wished I was stronger

I wished I loved Jesus

The way my wife does

I wished it had been easier

Instead of any longer”

The Blower’s Daughter

Damien Rice

“And so it is

Just like you said it would be

Life goes easy on me

Most of the time”

Mon, 04 Apr 2005 23:58:01 GMT

Ravens

I want to write something gritty.

I want to write about crack whores, boarded-up houses, bullet wounds, and community encroachment. I want to write about alcoholism, drug addiction, gambling monkeys, and sex as a weapon. I want to write about genocide, infanticide, suicide, and soulicide.

I want to write about the frailty of heroes, the fortitude of villains, and the nothingness in between. I want to write about vicious spirals, dangerous edges, and long-ass lines.

I want to write about slate gray, harsh grain, and muck. I want to write about blood-curdling screams, symphonic cacophony, and used-car salesmen. I want to write about Van Gogh, Munch, and Poe. I want to write about ravens.

I want to write something gritty, but...

"The Three No Evils" by Slight Clutter

Sunshine, kittens, laughter, smiles, grandmas, music, yellow, Snoopy, babies, Jimmy Stewart, hugs, weekends, aromatherapy, carousels, strawberries, breath, Let It Be, waterfalls, grass, familiarity, fireplaces, kindness, bubble baths, snowmen, tickles, chirping, Oprah, giddiness, avocados, wildflowers, massages, baseball, friends, anniversaries, pilates, kisses, photographs, picnics, David Sedaris, dawn, candles, faith, dancing, wine, Rainbow Connection, lambs wool, lounge wear, love…love…love…

I want to write about denial.

I want to write about pain.

I want to write something gritty.

Thu, 31 Mar 2005 14:47:59 GMT

Sometimes a Little Sand on the Face is the Least of One's Concerns

This next photo-driven post was actually created for my Flickr photo stream, but I decided that there was no reason that it couldn't serve as a Slight Clutter blog entry as well.

"Swallowed by the Ocean" by Slight Clutter

When I first arrived in Galveston yesterday, I noticed a homeless man, fully clothed, walking thigh deep in the warm Gulf waters. He seemed to be wrapped up in a one-sided conversation with some sad and impotent angels that hovered cruely about him.

Like most of my trips to Galveston, I had gone armed with my camera, ready to steal a hairline of the city's soul with my lens. I knew that this sun-drunken man splashing in the heavy surf before me was all color, was all life, and would make a rich subject for my daily photo diary. I briefly considered taking his photo while he was still head-long in his soliloque, but ultimately opted for restraint. I would wait for his movement shore-bound before approaching him. This movement happened about 20 minutes later.

Drenched and tired from his baptism by salt water, he took his respite in the sand right along the seawall, away from the surfers and left-over spring break revelers. I asked him if he would mind if I took his photo, and with the most childlike smile, he happily obliged me.

"Sit Down with Me" by Slight Clutter

He then asked if I would sit with him for a while because he needed someone to talk to, someone besides the angels who had circled him dumbfounded just moments earlier. I sat.

The first thing this weathered man did was shake my hand and tell me that he didn't have any place to live, food to eat, water to drink, or people to keep him company. He then asked if I could take him home with me in the least obnoxious, most innocent, and most heart-wrenching manner possible. I told him that I could not, but I sat there and did my best to warm his world with smiles.

He moved me. He made me sad. He reminded me to be thankful. He taught me.

"Can You See Me?" by Slight Clutter

Now for my shame.

I can't remember this man's name. One of the first things that we did upon meeting was exchange names with a firm handshake, a handshake that indicated to me that there was still a proud man inside the scortched, dirtied, and worn outer layer. We did the whole repeating-name thing that is taught in every networking seminar out there. I told him my name was Katya, and he said, "Katya," to confirm. He told me his name was...(*my shame*)... and I repeated...(*my shame*)...to confirm. I should've remembered. He deserved to linger, with name, in my mind. Instead, he lingers nameless... something that he was so trying to surmount.

Not a good feeling at all.

Tue, 29 Mar 2005 19:01:04 GMT

One More from the Wires: What Ever Happened to Injury by Scissors?

Oh, those Britons – such cut-ups! How I do so love their propensity for finding new and interesting ways to make me laugh. Most recently, I found myself chuckling at a new report by the British Department of Health outlining the many curious manners in which people come to injure themselves.

No, this list doesn’t harp on the more common of accidents (you know, those that occur while slicing bagels and such), but rather it highlights the peculiar… and, boy, am I a fan of peculiar!

Here’s just a taste:

207 people needed treatment for rose-related accidents. (Coming into contact with plant thorns, spines and sharp leaves)
138 people visited the hospital to return an unwanted parting gift from a prior visit. (Foreign items left in body following surgery)
37 were admitted for injury befitting of Greek mythology. (Volcanic eruptions)
22 were brought in for burns caused by really hot foreplay. (Ignition or melting of nightwear)
9 were seen for unsuccessful forays into erotic asphyxiation (Accidental suffocation or strangulation in bed)
1 was treated for injuries sustained while a stowaway on the International Space Station. (Prolonged stay in a weightless environment)

So, the BDOH report got me thinking about accidents, and how embarrassing the “right kind” of accident could actually be. For example, I never want to leave the hospital knowing that my admitting chart states that I had been seen for an injury by plunger. It just wouldn’t leave me with a very good feeling inside. In a slightly different way, a feather-related accident might pink-up my cheeks a bit, so I should be extra cautious when frolicking in the vicinity of waterfowl. Magazines, soft fruit, wax, Venetian blinds, cashmere, gas pumps, edible clothing --- ALL items that I would like to avoid mention on my ER chart.

One last thing to note, the injury categories are set by the United Nations' World Health Organization (WHO), so if you are planning any really crazy accidents in the near future, please run your masochistic ideas by WHO first to make sure you will get proper credit for your injurious folly.