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Submitted by stevenl on Tue, 01/03/2006 - 8:32pm.
Peter Elbow, the author of Writing Without Teachers, was one of my faculty members in the 1978-79 year. Or, come to think of it, the academic time I call the Year From Hell. Peter required us to deliver several pages of freewriting every week and to read our work out loud in class. Meanwhile, he was working on a manuscript that eventually was published under the title Writing With Power. Several of my classmates are mentioned in that book, since he used as a sounding board and unofficial editors. A few years after graduating, I knew a guy who really wanted to study freewriting with Peter but TESC required three letters of reference since his academic career had pretty much consisted of partying. I wrote a reference for him, and so did the writer Stephen King, who knew him back in his home state of Maine. I have hitchhiked through Maine. On one ride I asked a guy, "I'm from Washington. We call ourselves Washingtonians. What do people from Maine call themselves?" "Maniacs!" he cheerfully replied. I made it as far north as the town of Dover-Foxcroft, or Dover-Foxtrot as one native called it. I took foxtrot lessons in Santa Barbara in 1974 but can't remember any of it except I stepped on a lot of feet. The needle on the LP record player was jostling a bit when the floor bounced. I also watched a chess tournament down there. That was excitement plus, let me tell you. My cousin Richard was with me. Roland and Patti too. We tried to see which one of us could do the best Peter Lorre imitation. If only he had lived long enough to have been a villain on TV's Batman, at least they had Vincent Price as Egghead. Richard, who was an avid student of Timothy Leary's work at the time, visited me at Evergreen in 1975 just in time to participate in the Jobbo Bonobo cult. Hey, I'm back to Evergroove again, which reminds me: Peter required us to deliver several pages of freewriting every week. Elbow, not Lorre.
» During my very last quarter at Evergreen, I attended an evening class on classical expository writing from the very European and stern Niels Skov.
Submitted by Deep Diver on Tue, 01/03/2006 - 5:44pm.
If you have the time to watch this video it is interesting. It is an hour long and the internet version is not very good quality. I would be interested in what the group here thinks about the story. Here is the link to the story.
Submitted by Sarah on Tue, 01/03/2006 - 2:23pm.
It was a busy night at the restaurant in Olympia and many diners were ordering lobster. With each order, the man in the kitchen grabbed a fresh lobster, and while skewering it on the cutting board yelled "The Face! The Face!". No one asked why he yelled this, they were all too busy with their own work. Diners were happy with their lobsters and the restaurant had a record night. Now that I've heard this story, I am left pondering why that particular refrain ushered each lobster to their tasty death. Is it an arcane Olympia lobster prep ritual? Was the lobster prepper channeling the lobster's last thoughts?
Submitted by Rick on Tue, 01/03/2006 - 1:47pm.
From Writing Employment:
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Submitted by Rick on Tue, 01/03/2006 - 1:36pm.
From the Olympian:
Maybe the workers can meet and talk about how there isn't enough money to build housing for homeless people.
Submitted by Sarah on Tue, 01/03/2006 - 1:31pm.
Downtown Olympia is now a designated historic district. Check out the signage next time you are downtown and let us know what you think. I think the signs were poorly done. The bottom portion of the historic district sign reads "Downtown Olympia" in a light cream color against what I call a dirty mustard background. The result is that you can't really see it. It all blurs together.
Submitted by Sarah on Tue, 01/03/2006 - 1:20pm.
The Rex building on 4th Ave downtown has been hit by graffiti. Near the top of the building on the outer face are now a variety of words or names, I can't remember at the moment whether I saw "unc" or "unk" repeated several times. Plus something else. I wonder how on earth people got graffiti up there. I was envisioning stealth scaffolding, a rebel cherry picker, guided hot air balloons, radical rappelling. I'm told that most likely the graffitist was held by his or her ankles over the side of the building. The mere thought of that makes me wince.
Submitted by Sarah on Tue, 01/03/2006 - 11:11am.
Don't miss the short sci-fi story by Philip Di Filippo:
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