Thursday 2/8/24
Just wrote a 1500 word piece on the Beatles.
300 new words were added to "Why I Hate My Friends" today.
Obviously there were the entries on here.
My effort hasn't been where it needs to be lately so this was a little better this morning.
Watched a short animated film from 1958 called Tender Game, which features the music of Ella Fitzgerald and the Oscar Peterson Trio. Downloaded some Doors demos from 1965.
I don't normally write anything on anyone's Facebook page--there is so very little of any interest--but yesterday someone asked who was more overrated, Robert Frost or Walt Whitman, because they obviously believe that both are overrated. You get in the comments and you see someone write, "Taylor Swift." People are almost always painfully unfunny. Doesn't stop them though, does it? This was my take on the two:
Frost by a wide measure. He’s become what a person who never reads poetry thinks of as a great poet because his verse breaks off easily such that you can get these quotable, almost Twitter-esque lines that read like something from a self help book. In quoting or sharing these relative banalities, it’s as if people think that they themselves are offering a form of wisdom everyone needs but no one else would think of. Or they can regard it that way. But the lines are often obvious. Whereas there’s a protean grandeur to Leaves of Grass, a work that also possesses a lived-in, bathed-in, romped-with aspect—a certain grunginess of soul. Montaigne had a bit of Whitman in him before the fact.
Haven't been doing as well with fitness as I need to either, so will do something about that now.
Need to write this Valentine's op-ed, three other Beatles pieces, and get some of this fiction done, because there are other things I have to get to.

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