true story

my parents, like any normal russians, went looking for fresh mushrooms after a week of rain. as they approached "the forest" (i.e., a park), they met a man who told them in russian:  

there are no mushrooms here

he went on to ask whether they've seen his mother, and because they hadn't, he wandered off to look for her.

..

surrealism itself. i wish i had been there.

ford is out; thank goodness.

it's upsetting that very normal expressions of human decency and understanding bring tears to my eyes
town rallies around vandalized cold lake mosque

at certain moments during shostakovich's symphony 8 i noticed that you were crying... that my hands were clenched

a terrifying, furious piece, wonderfully performed by the london philharmonic

i still can't get my head around the fact that your family in iran can send expedited mail to us, but we cannot send it to them

support books 2 prisoners

i used to read pieces like "before the law" with a sense of outrage; with the furious disbelief of an idealist

recently, that fury is supplanted by depression and withdrawal. perhaps this is why i feel paralyzed in the face of research on a topic that i believe i'm morally obligated to examine

... hoping against hope that this isn't permanent

Мы успели—в гости к Богу не бывает опозданий;
Что ж там ангелы поют такими злыми голосами?
Или это колокольчик весь зашёлся от рыданий?
Или я кричу коням, чтоб не несли так быстро сани?

We have made it--right on time; God has left us with few choices.
But why are the angels singing with such fiendish, scolding voices?
Or is that the horse's bell ringing in a frenzy drenched with tears?
Or is it I, the one who's screaming for my horses to shift gears?

it needs no credit.
but the wonderful translation does: Stanley Altshuller [mild edits, mine]

it's pretty disturbing that getting a computer upgrade and a new keyboard at work makes me this happy...

lately, i have moments of paranoia immediately followed by sudden short-term memory loss. what was i worried about just now? could it possibly have been the fact that i don't know what's going on? that, after gaza, i haven't regained the strength to read the news--any news--although i consider it a civic duty to do so?

it's the last thing i remember thinking...