Exhibit 1.7.20



For today’s public laziness, I’m reposting links to some old stock photography posts that are now hard to find given the switchover from the old Blogspot address:

Here’s The Social Network with a gorilla as Mark Zuckerberg.

Here’s sadsack businessmen to promote Mathias’ book.

Here’s proposed taglines to a creepy photo Maggi found.

My election post featuring the terrifying reign of Ronald Vote.

And here’s the tag that takes you to the rest. Now some tweets:


*  Won my fantasy Thanksgiving league thanks to the amazing performance of my Aunt’s Defensive.

* “That’s traveling!” – Dads.

*  Never forget: we wouldn’t be here if that Marine hadn’t killed the fire monster with a sword.

*  What keeps me going is knowing that somewhere a funk band and a fishing club are fighting over the url for Big Ass Bass.

*  If I got to the airport any earlier, Ma and Pa Wright would still be kissing.

*  Dear Hollywood, combine a teen sex comedy with The Notebook and call it “College Ruled.” You’re welcome.

*  “Run, Linda!” – #confusingblurbs

*  I think it’s time we update Heart of Darkness again. My pitch: an insane Cap’n Crunch rules over the Soggies like a god.

*  I never admit I haven’t read a book. I just say, “You finished it? Even with all the racism?” Because a good defense is the best offense.

*  I like to imagine there’s another Coen brother named Corey who is really well known for his genre-reinventing craft service spreads.



Comment / Posted in Directions, Shame, Twitter

Exhibit 23.4


I’ve never been able to grow a beard but mostly that’s because I’ve never really put my mind to it. Or I have some sort of testosterone deficiency. Either way, now that I more or less have a month with nowhere to go, I figured I’d try.

That image is where we currently stand. I think the right side of my face is winning, but mostly I’m disappointed that A) there’s a competition and B) I could tabulate a winner to the competition. I had to stand really close to the mirror in order to do that. Mine is not a beard that can be seen at a distance.

I chose red for the image because that’s a color that would stand out not because it’s the color the beard is growing in. As far as you know.

Unless parts of my beard start connecting themselves, I think I’m going to shave soon.

4 Comments / Posted in Beards, Red, Shame

Exhibit 12.22

My favorite running subplot of the presidential election is that after screwing up that Spanish radio interview and choosing not to admit that he got confused, McCain now has to pretend that he really doesn’t consider Spain an ally even though that’s only slightly less absurd than saying he doesn’t consider Great Britain an ally. Obama was almost gleeful when he got to mention it in the debate and McCain looked furious and started muttering to himself (note: I don’t really think he was saying ‘horseshit’).

To me, this is going to play out exactly like Three to Tango. And by exactly, I mean McCain is going to keep this up until it goes too far and he has to tearfully admit he’s not gay mad at Spain during a United Nations gala. Also, Oliver Platt is going to co-star.

And with that, I have now mentioned Paul Walker, Oliver Platt, and Leelee Sobieski in consecutive posts. My work here is done. And by done I mean I no longer want to be alive writing about such nonsense.

1 Comment / Posted in Movies, Politics, Shame

Exhibit 11.4

When not subscribing to The Cupboard, you should be reading Sixth Finch. Heather has work up and there’s plenty of other great poetry and art to go around.

Comment / Posted in Poetry, Shame, The Cupboard

Exhibit 6.3

Three new journals that I have work in:

I have a story titled “The Way Back” in this issue. This story is notable for being:

1) The only story I have ever written that takes place in Kansas despite my having been born and graduated high school in The Sunflower State.

2) The only story I have that takes place in 1996. Bizarrely, it doesn’t even mention Weezer.

3) The longest story I have ever published at somewhere north of 9.5k words.

The issue is fantastic (much better than my sad story), and you should be sure to check it out. I’ve always thought IR had some of the best design of any of the standard format journals, and now I’m convinced. I can vouch firsthand for how hard they work to make sure everything is perfect. They really care. It’s pretty cool.

So, they don’t actually put covers of the issues up on their website, but I figured the state seal of South Dakota would get the idea across. More great stuff here, some Midwestern themed, some not. It features Lincolnite Cody Lumpkin with a poem about squirrel metaphysics and my poet doppelgänger Allan Peterson. I hope Mr. Peterson doesn’t get confused with me all the time like I do him.

You: Are you the poet Allan Peterson?
Me: I’m the fiction writer Adam Peterson?
You: Are you not sure which one you are?
Me: No?

My story is titled “Miss Nebraska” and is notable for:

1) Having had, by some great margin, the shortest length of time between when I wrote the story, when it was accepted, and when it was actually published and in my hands. I’m actually not even sure I’ve finished it yet.

2) Taking place in North Platte, Nebraska, the town where I lived between the ages of 6 and 15. Although all place names (I think) are made up, the essence of the town is not.

3) Being the only story of mine where someone is entered into a beauty pageant. Let’s just hope this doesn’t send me off on a Sufjan Stevens-like quest to document how all 50 states select their Miss America representative.

Also notable is that the state motto of South Dakota is apparently “Under God the People Rule” which strikes me as having a ‘when the cat’s away the mice will play’ sort of logic to it. This will be explored further in my story “Miss South Dakota” which should be out circa 2034.

There’s not much I can say to demonstrate Ninth Letter‘s thorough awesomeness. It’s a fusion of design and text unlike anything else out there, and I feel lucky to be in it at all.

When the first issue came out I was opening mail for a journal and wasn’t sure what it was when I opened the copy they sent us. Flipping through it, it became clear they were doing something completely different than anyone else. Now on their 8th issue, they are still making an exciting and beautiful journal. That I am just as in awe when I see Ninth Letter as I was the first time makes me really happy.

My piece is another My Untimely Death which you can see my previous post about here or just order by specifying the title and sending $10 to this address:

Subito Press

Department of English

University of Colorado at Boulder
Hellems 101226 UCB
Boulder, CO 80309-0226

Notable things about my shameless self promotion:

1) I feel bad about it.

2) I wish I could give you a copy if I haven’t already.

3) It only benefits the good folks at Subito Press.

2 Comments / Posted in Journals, Shame, Writing

Exhibit 5.23

Did you know this is what brussels sprouts look like on the stalk? Um, yeah, I did too.

Comment / Posted in Brussels, Shame, Vegetables

Exhibit 4.8

Buck O’Neil

This week’s long overdue correction of a national shame is that the Hall of Fame announced a Buck O’Neil Lifetime Achievement Award that will be given out a maximum of once out of every three years to “an individual whose extraordinary efforts enhanced baseball’s positive impact on society, has broadened the game’s appeal, and whose character, integrity and dignity are comparable to the qualities exhibited by O’Neil.” Appropriately, the first winner is O’Neil who they will honor with a large statue outside the entrance to Cooperstown. This almost makes up for the tragic way they denied him a spot in the Hall during the last year of his life.

If you don’t know anything about Buck, read his wikipedia entry or Joe Posnanski’s book on him. Basically, he was a great Negro League player and manager, the first African-American manager in the MLB, a long-time scout who discovered and mentored some of the all-time greats, and the man who almost single-handily created the Negro League museum in KC and kept the legacy of the Negro League alive.

In my opinion, he’s one of the 5 or 10 most important people in baseball history, an embodiment of everything that’s great about the game. Yet somehow when the Hall of Fame got around to inducting a group of players, managers, owners, and coaches from the Negro Leagues in 2006–something Buck led the fight for–he didn’t get enough votes (this would be the equivalent of creating a Hosts of Saturday Night Live Hall of Fame and not inducting Alec Baldwin). At the time he said, “God’s been good to me. They didn’t think Buck was good enough to be in the Hall of Fame. That’s the way they thought about it and that’s the way it is, so we’re going to live with that. Now, if I’m a Hall of Famer for you, that’s all right with me. Just keep loving old Buck. Don’t weep for Buck. No, man, be happy, be thankful.”

Always a man of class, Buck O’Neil gave the induction speech for the 17 people they did induct that year. He was dead 6 months later.

MLB was humiliated with what happened to Buck as there was no other way to elect him into the Hall (short of ignoring procedure and doing it by fiat) so I guess this award/statue is their solution. Honestly, it’s a pretty good one. Buck deserved better while he was alive, but, as he would be the first to remind everyone, it was never about him.

Maybe it’s just because Buck is Kansas City baseball–even more than, say, George Brett–but I feel a little better about things today. Let’s end this by watching Buck sing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame,” a Kauffman Stadium tradition.

If that didn’t give you chills, you might be dead.

Check out the next edition of correcting a national shame where we discuss the return of habeus corpus some time around 2009.
Comment / Posted in Baseball, Shame, Sports