<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464</id><updated>2009-03-02T05:36:08.569-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Flowers that Glide</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Simul justus et peccator&lt;/i&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>74</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-115219799902106691</id><published>2006-07-06T10:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T10:59:59.040-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Flowers that Gloze</title><content type='html'>Go &lt;a href="http://aaronmccollough2.blogspot.com"&gt;here &lt;/a&gt;for glozing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-115219799902106691?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/115219799902106691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/115219799902106691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2006/07/flowers-that-gloze.html' title='Flowers that Gloze'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-114977698072735799</id><published>2006-06-08T10:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-08T10:29:40.750-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It has been some hectic times here.  Suz's job search has heated up with some second interviews, and we could be staying here or moving somewhere else.  We were in DC last weekend which was pretty fun.  It is super expensive to live there, however, and I have long been resigned to not making money.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to see Band of Horses in Detroit this weekend.  Also listening to Captain Beefheart, Can, Elvis Costello's last record, which is better than I anticipated, Beirut, Sunset Rubdown, the new Paul Simon (also pretty good -- Eno did soundscapes for it, and Paul Simon is a tasty marshmallow by god).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-114977698072735799?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/114977698072735799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/114977698072735799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2006/06/it-has-been-some-hectic-times-here.html' title=''/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-114554366090658071</id><published>2006-04-20T10:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T10:37:41.176-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Winter has finally passed here in Michigan, and I am in a more open mood.  The dissertation is nearing completion, and I am feeling very positive about it.  It has some strong work in it and lots of room for stronger work to come.  I'm pleased with myself a little, which is good.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been reading many, many interesting books of poems...perhaps most notably the Philip Jenks books.  I highly recommend them.  Peter O'Leary's new book &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Depth Theology&lt;/span&gt; is also very good and invigorating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final touches have been put on my new book &lt;i&gt;Little Ease&lt;/i&gt;, which should be out in September from Ahsahta.  The cover art by Jeff Clark is really exciting to me.  I've always been a big fan of &lt;a href="http://www.quemadura.net"&gt;his covers&lt;/a&gt;, and I'm thrilled to have my book graced with one.  I hope to be able to make a strong effort to get out and read in many places in the next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GutCult is feeling a boost from its new contributing editor Arda Collins.  I'm really looking forward to the direction the magazine is headed.  It's hard to believe I've been doing it for so long.  May it go on for 2 or 3 times as long as it's gone on so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pretty day here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-114554366090658071?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/114554366090658071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/114554366090658071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2006/04/winter-has-finally-passed-here-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-113919829853250544</id><published>2006-02-05T22:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-05T22:58:18.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'>That Is What I'm Talkin About!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://indietorrents.com/bitbucket/chooch.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugly win...still a win.  26 years I've been waiting for this feeling again.  I don't know who I am in a world where my team is the champ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-113919829853250544?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/113919829853250544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/113919829853250544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2006/02/that-is-what-im-talkin-about.html' title='That Is What I&apos;m Talkin About!!'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-113474752966461109</id><published>2005-12-16T10:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T10:38:49.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All ye know on earth and all ye need to know...</title><content type='html'>Apply this line of reasoning to all future endeavors...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from Hannah Arendt, “What is Freedom?” from Between Past and Future (New York: Viking, 1961).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p. 152 “Action insofar as it is free is neither under the guidance of the intellect nor under the dictate of the will—although it needs both for the execution of any particular goal—but springs from something altogether different which (following Montesquieu’s famous analysis of forms of government) I shall call a principle.  Principles do not operate from within the self as motives do—‘mine own deformity’ or my ‘fair proportion’—but inspire, as it were, from without; and they are much too general to prescribe particular goals, although every particular aim can be judged in the light of its principle once the act has been started.  For, unlike the judgment of the intellect which precedes action, and unlike the command of the will which initiates it, the inspiring principle becomes fully manifest only in the performing act itself.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p. 156 “For this world of ours, because it existed before us and is meant to outlast our lives in it, simply cannot afford to give primary concern to individual lives and the interest connected with them; as such the public realm stands in the sharpest possible contrast to our private domain, where in the protection of family and home, everything serves and must serve the security of the life process.  It requires courage even to leave the protective security of our four walls and enter the public realm, not because  of particular dangers which may lie in wait for us, but because we have arrived in a realm where the concern for life has lost its validity.  Courage liberates men from their worry about life for the freedom of the world.  Courage is indispensable because in politics not life the world is at stake.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.168 “We find in these parts of the New Testament an extraordinary understanding of freedom, and particularly of the power inherent in human freedom; but the human capacity which corresponds to this power, which, in the words of the Gospel, is capable of removing mountains, is not will but faith.  The work of faith, actually its product, is what the gospels called ‘miracles,’ a word with many meanings in the New Testament and difficult to understand.  We can neglect the difficulties here and refer only to those passages where miracles are clearly not supernatural events but only what all miracles, those performed by men no less than those performed by a divine agent , always must be, namely, interruptions of some natural series of events, of some automatic process, in whose context they constitute the wholly unexpected.&lt;br /&gt; “No doubt human life, placed on the earth, is surrounded by automatic processes—by the natural process of the earth, which, in turn, are surrounded by cosmic processes, and we ourselves are driven by similar forces insofar as we too are a part of organic nature.  Our political life, moreover, despite, its being the realm of action, also takes place in the midst of processes which we call historical and which tend to become as automatic as natural or cosmic processes, although they were started by men.  The truth is that automatism is inherent in all processes, no matter what their origin may be—which is why no single act, and no single even can ever, once and for all, deliver and save a man, or a nation, or mankind.  It is in the nature of the automatic process to which man is subject, but within and against which he can assert himself through action, that they can only spell ruin for human life.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p. 169 “Every act, seen from the perspective not of the agent but of the process in whose framework it occurs and whose automatism it interrupts, is a ‘miracle’—that is, something which could not be expected.  If it is true that action and beginning are essentially the same, it follows that a capacity for performing miracles must likewise be within the range of human faculties.  This sounds stranger than it actually is.  It is in the very nature of every new beginning that it breaks into the world as an ‘infinite improbability,’ and yet it is precisely this infinitely improbable which actually constitutes the very texture of everything we call real.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-113474752966461109?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/113474752966461109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/113474752966461109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/12/all-ye-know-on-earth-and-all-ye-need.html' title='All ye know on earth and all ye need to know...'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-113224773674847709</id><published>2005-11-17T12:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T12:19:09.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Resurrection Update</title><content type='html'>I’m listening to “the Wichita Lineman” at the moment, and taking notes on a book I recently read about a case of demon possession in the 1570s, but I’ve been meaning to take a few moments to post to the blog.  Why?  Well, my feelings about the whole genre of discourse (blogging, that is) have remained so mixed during the full run of time I’ve been participating.  I really don’t have much patience for the schoolyard crap that features prominently in the conversation every time people get bored or can’t think of anything real to talk about.  On the other hand, I have been deeply inspired, encouraged, and educated by those stretches where people are powerfully absorbed by their materials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, Suz and I watched the documentary “Revolution OS” about the freesoftware movement and the birth of gnu, linux, open source, etc.  Particularly moving to me was the demagoguery of &lt;a href="http://www.stallman.org/"&gt;Richard Stallman&lt;/a&gt;, who is described as the “philosopher” behind open source.  He – like any passionate and visionary person, probably – is a mixture of pitiful oddness and stunning charisma.  I recommend the film, even if you don’t care much about computer code, for Stallman’s account of the atmosphere at MIT when preceding and during the development of the gnu system.  It reminded me a lot of what I love most about Ron Silliman, and it—again—got me thinking about how crucial community, including its discomforts, is for the production of meaningful contributions to culture.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, based on my personal temperament, I’m going to be forced to plug in and out of the public conversation repeatedly.  I’m not sure.  When I do plug in, I want it to be because I have something to say, however, not because I feel duty-bound to keep the chatter flowing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+++&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m going to be reading at the Cloister in the East Village between 2nd and 3rd on Sunday, Nov. 20 at 8pm with Jeff Encke.  It’s part of the Burning Chair Series.  I’d love to see you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+++&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have been redesigning GutCult for a sleeker look as part of the on-going process of deepening its method and mission.  The superficial dimension (the look) is the thing over which I have most control in the short-term, so that’s what I’m tackling.  Superficial as it may be, coding is not easy for me, so it takes time.  The upcoming issue will be a very good one, but it will only be a prologue, I hope of things to come as the magazine continues to evolve.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-113224773674847709?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/113224773674847709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/113224773674847709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/11/resurrection-update.html' title='Resurrection Update'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-112965282654414400</id><published>2005-10-18T12:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T12:27:06.553-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Up</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted anything in a while.  Despite Silliman's suggestion that the blog world is the 'hang-out' of the poetry world (a claim which I think has validity), I've been hanging out in other places.  Mainly, my dissertation is absorbing my time.  That's as it should be, no doubt.  I have found--in my leisure time--a way back to songwriting and recording, which makes me really happy.  I've recorded something like 5 songs in the last few weeks.  Not sure where they are coming from, but probably just stored up energy.  I'm like an elaborate residuum of creative energy.  If I take time off from any of my projects, they ultimately break down the door.  My excesses do not disappoint me.  Call me pseudo-Dionysus.  I rock multitudes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-112965282654414400?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112965282654414400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112965282654414400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/10/whats-up.html' title='What&apos;s Up'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-112645484469892533</id><published>2005-09-11T12:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-11T12:07:24.703-04:00</updated><title type='text'>For What its Worth</title><content type='html'>Please scan &lt;a href="http://www.buyblue.org/directory/alpha?page=0,4"&gt;this list of corporations&lt;/a&gt; before you go on your next consumption binge.  Procotting may not be the best answer, but it is one answer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-112645484469892533?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112645484469892533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112645484469892533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/09/for-what-its-worth.html' title='For What its Worth'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-112594678500749361</id><published>2005-09-05T14:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-05T15:03:05.163-04:00</updated><title type='text'>By Request...More Them Anatomies</title><content type='html'>A while back, I posted the two newer EPs of my songwriting project/alter-ego Them Anatomies (you can find them in the link bar on the right), and I promised I would follow-up with the earlier ones if there was any interest. I've got another EP and a "outake/b-side" collection to post in the future.  So, here we go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These songs comprise "Battlestations" (recorded in Raleigh, NC and Iowa City, IA by me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://www.umich.edu/~amccollo/BS1.mp3"&gt;No Sir, Francis Bacon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.umich.edu/~amccollo/BS2.mp3"&gt;Garden Needs Weedin'&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://www.umich.edu/~amccollo/BS3.mp3"&gt;Toenails&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://www.umich.edu/~amccollo/BS4.mp3"&gt;Hard Postcard&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://www.umich.edu/~amccollo/BS5.mp3"&gt;Pieces of Skylab&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;a href="http://www.umich.edu/~amccollo/BS6.mp3"&gt;Pneumatic Concerns&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;a href="http://www.umich.edu/~amccollo/BS7.mp3"&gt;Transmission to Dark Planet&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;a href="http://www.umich.edu/~amccollo/BS8.mp3"&gt;Space Debt Cadet&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;a href="http://www.umich.edu/~amccollo/BS9.mp3"&gt;Tee Pee&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-112594678500749361?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112594678500749361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112594678500749361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/09/by-requestmore-them-anatomies.html' title='By Request...More Them Anatomies'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-112543680708847772</id><published>2005-08-30T17:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-30T17:20:07.093-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>An intellectual hatred is the worst,&lt;br /&gt;So let her think opinions are accursed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-WBY, "A Prayer For My Daughter"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-112543680708847772?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112543680708847772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112543680708847772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/08/intellectual-hatred-is-worst-so-let.html' title=''/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-112399602215175334</id><published>2005-08-14T01:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-14T01:07:02.156-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"We have been schooled in a sterile addiction to contradiction that has robbed us repeatedly of all real openness to any more expansive and ennobling truth" - Sogyal Rinpoche&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-112399602215175334?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112399602215175334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112399602215175334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/08/we-have-been-schooled-in-sterile.html' title=''/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-112247746861314744</id><published>2005-07-27T11:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-27T21:10:32.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/293/5426/640/LookoutMountain2thumb.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/293/5426/320/LookoutMountain2thumb.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the bank, sometimes higher ones, with the smell of metal in his head, he could understand why the patients tried to escape this way and the Spaniards.  He often wanted to flee, himself, but recognized that the river was one kind of thing and he was another.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-112247746861314744?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112247746861314744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112247746861314744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/07/from-bank-sometimes-higher-ones-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-112196119289240159</id><published>2005-07-21T11:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T11:53:12.970-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/293/5426/640/bend.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/293/5426/320/bend.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though everything was gray and tasted like a penny, he could look to the northeast and see this enormous foot his father's heart was bent around.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-112196119289240159?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112196119289240159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112196119289240159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/07/even-though-everything-was-gray-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-112169718475681161</id><published>2005-07-18T10:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-18T10:33:04.763-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/293/5426/640/ChattBluffs-1910.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/293/5426/320/ChattBluffs-1910.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was where -- with the taste of a penny on the tongue -- he saw most of his first things.  Never swam in the river.  That house is gone.  The bridges humming.  In the distance you can see the smoke stacks.  These are tanneries.  Were.  The tanneries are gone.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-112169718475681161?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112169718475681161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112169718475681161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/07/this-was-where-with-taste-of-penny-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-112146451782038213</id><published>2005-07-15T17:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T17:55:17.826-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Coconut Poetry Issue #1</title><content type='html'>Lots of poetry to be read and savored over at Bruce Covey's &lt;a href="http://www.coconutpoetry.org/contents1.htm"&gt;Coconut&lt;/a&gt;, just up now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contents include work by:&lt;br /&gt;alice notley&lt;br /&gt;david trinidad&lt;br /&gt;danielle pafunda&lt;br /&gt;sawako nakayasu&lt;br /&gt;wang ping&lt;br /&gt;katy lederer&lt;br /&gt;jon leon&lt;br /&gt;amy gerstler&lt;br /&gt;aaron mccollough&lt;br /&gt;sueyeun juliette lee&lt;br /&gt;frank menchaca&lt;br /&gt;shanna compton&lt;br /&gt;ken rumble&lt;br /&gt;lisa lubasch&lt;br /&gt;amy king&lt;br /&gt;bruce covey&lt;br /&gt;laurel snyder&lt;br /&gt;alex lemon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-112146451782038213?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112146451782038213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/112146451782038213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/07/coconut-poetry-issue-1.html' title='Coconut Poetry Issue #1'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-111637220653730565</id><published>2005-05-17T18:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-20T23:30:33.296-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Links to Online Content Involving Me</title><content type='html'>Here is a semi-complete list of online content (poems, essays, reviews, &amp; readings) by the artist currently known as Aaron McCollough.  I will update this on occasion and put a link in the side bar for easy access.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poems:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.coconutpoetry.org/contents1.htm"&gt;Coconut Poetry #1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://english.chass.ncsu.edu/freeverse/Archives/Spring_2005/poems/A_McCollough_Jesus_Is_A_Dying_Bedmaker.htm"&gt;Free Verse 8&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mipoesias.com/Volume19Issue3Gudding/mcCollough.html"&gt;MiPoesias 19.3&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://homepages.nyu.edu/~mk106/mccollough.html"&gt;Raised in a Barn 4&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wordforword.info/vol1/volume1/McCollough.htm"&gt;Word/For Word 1.1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.canwehaveourballback.com/11mccollough.htm"&gt;CWHOBB 11&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slope.org/archive/issue17/poems17mccollough.html"&gt;Slope 17&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.eratiopostmodernpoetry.com/poetic%20language%20two.html"&gt;Eratio 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.typomag.com/issue03/mccollough.html"&gt;Typo 3&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.drunkenboat.com/db6/mccollough/mccollough.html"&gt;Drunken Boat 6&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.stridemagazine.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/2003/june/mcColloughpoems.htm"&gt;Stride&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://jacketmagazine.com/26/mccoll.html"&gt;Jacket 26&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.shearsman.com/pages/magazine/back_issues/shearsman60/mccollough.html"&gt;Shearsman 60&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reviews/Articles (by me &amp; of me):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://english.chass.ncsu.edu/freeverse/Archives/Spring_2004/reviews/A_McCollough.html"&gt;Tony Tost's &lt;i&gt;Invisible Bride&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.octopusmagazine.com/issue03/mccollough.html"&gt;Thoughts on Ronald Johnson&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bostonreview.net/BR28.3/poetmic.html"&gt;Review of Cal Bedient's &lt;i&gt;Violence of the Morning&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.raintaxi.com/online/2003fall/ode.shtml"&gt;Review of Michael Farrell's &lt;i&gt;ode ode&lt;/i&gt; (the first Salt book I ever read!)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.eclectica.org/v8n2/mcgowin_mccollough.html"&gt;Review of &lt;i&gt;Double Venus&lt;/i&gt; by the late Kevin McGowin&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://english.chass.ncsu.edu/freeverse/Archives/Winter_2004/reviews/S_Mir_on_A_McCollough.htm"&gt;Review of &lt;i&gt;Double Venus&lt;/i&gt; by Stan Mir&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://herecomeseverybody.blogspot.com/2004/07/aaron-mccolloughs-third-book-of-poems.html"&gt;Interview with me at Here Comes Everybody&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading Audio:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://128.255.60.46:8080/ramgen/wsuiarc/LPL2004_09_16.rm"&gt;With Lewis Robinson (requires real audio player)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://spaceshiptumblers.blogspot.com/2004/12/aaron-mccollough-reading-from-acts.html"&gt;"The Acts" (part of "Amazing Grace" from &lt;i&gt;John Fahey's 'America'&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://spaceshiptumblers.blogspot.com/2005/02/aaron-mccollough-reading-from-john.html"&gt;"Jesus Is A Dying Bedmaker" pt. 1 (from &lt;i&gt;John Fahey's 'America'&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://spaceshiptumblers.blogspot.com/2005/02/pt-2-of-aaron-mccollough-reading-from.html"&gt;"Jesus Is A Dying Bedmaker" pt. 2 (from &lt;i&gt;John Fahey's 'America'&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-111637220653730565?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/111637220653730565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/111637220653730565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/05/links-to-online-content-involving-me.html' title='Links to Online Content Involving Me'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-111569789566875551</id><published>2005-05-09T23:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T00:04:55.676-04:00</updated><title type='text'>William Perkins sez...</title><content type='html'>"And this is the common fault of the world: men [sic] that lightly regard and slackely performe the duties of their owne callings, are neuerthelesse very readie to talke of and enquire into the state and liues of other men [sic]: and it is meat and drinke vnto them.  Let a good report be giuen out of a man [sic], it is not regarded, but euil reports are taken vp at the first rebound: they run like wildfire, and all this ariseth from vaine curiositie, which is here condemned as the bane of all societies.  These busie-bodies are like to such as read bookes, with intent only to spie out the faults thereof: and they are like to the spider, that creepes ouer all the garden onely to gather poison.  But men [sic] that feare God must learne to knowe their owne businesse, and to suffer their talke and meditation to be imployed that way." -- &lt;i&gt;A Treatise On Callings&lt;/i&gt;, 1612.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-111569789566875551?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/111569789566875551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/111569789566875551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/05/william-perkins-sez.html' title='William Perkins sez...'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-111501044836167932</id><published>2005-05-02T00:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-02T01:07:28.363-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Food...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.saltpublishing.com/info/submissions.htm"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt;, Chris Hamilton-Emery (the publisher, incidentally, of my second book) says some very interesting and challenging things worth pondering at length.  I shall return to it.  In any case, what Chris has to say is very very smart -- if sobering.  Salt has one of the most interesting, varied lists the poetry publishing world has ever seen and it should come as no surprise.  You don't have to buy my book, but you should buy something by Salt and see for yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-111501044836167932?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/111501044836167932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/111501044836167932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/05/some-food.html' title='Some Food...'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-110779698940463853</id><published>2005-02-07T13:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-07T12:23:09.403-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Aphorism...</title><content type='html'>The person who kills two birds with one stone has still wasted a stone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-110779698940463853?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/110779698940463853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/110779698940463853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/02/another-aphorism.html' title='Another Aphorism...'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-110684225801282394</id><published>2005-01-27T11:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-27T11:10:58.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Aphorism...</title><content type='html'>Capitalism doesn't care about poetry, only Poetry cares about capitalism.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-110684225801282394?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/110684225801282394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/110684225801282394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/01/another-aphorism_27.html' title='Another Aphorism...'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-110542088006834230</id><published>2005-01-11T01:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-11T00:21:20.066-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Issue of Free Verse</title><content type='html'>Please go read the whole issue of &lt;a href="http://english.chass.ncsu.edu/freeverse/index.html"&gt;Free Verse&lt;/a&gt;.  Many friendly faces appear there, including Tost (my bizarro world double -- or is he my regular world double?  In any case, for the record, I am actually the author of Invisible Bride).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Stan Mir has written a review of my book, Double Venus.  Many thanks to the magazine for this and to Stan for his generous and rigorous reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New GutCult is all coded.  Should be up by mid-week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-110542088006834230?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/110542088006834230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/110542088006834230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/01/new-issue-of-free-verse.html' title='New Issue of Free Verse'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-110512469575564172</id><published>2005-01-07T13:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-07T14:05:39.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Aphorism...</title><content type='html'>Often, as I find myself obliged to perform one or another momentary ritual or duty (the very stuff of my life), I'm also tempted to "take a day off."  Doing so is often recommended, after all.  But a job is like living, not the other way around.  If I were to take a day off from living, I would surely die. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-110512469575564172?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/110512469575564172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/110512469575564172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/01/another-aphorism_07.html' title='Another Aphorism...'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-110468142999091317</id><published>2005-01-02T10:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-02T10:57:09.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Aphorism...</title><content type='html'>2, 3, 4, 5, etc.  1 is a fable.  Consider the generation of the trees.  Sometimes it is best to believe in 1.  Sometimes it is harmful.  Life could be summarized as a long attempt at figuring out when and when not to believe in 1.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-110468142999091317?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/110468142999091317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/110468142999091317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/01/another-aphorism_110468142999091317.html' title='Another Aphorism...'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-110468131735603492</id><published>2005-01-02T10:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-02T10:55:17.356-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Aphorism...</title><content type='html'>You speak too much and too little.  What are you afraid of?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-110468131735603492?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/110468131735603492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/110468131735603492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/01/another-aphorism_110468131735603492.html' title='Another Aphorism...'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6488464.post-110468128176913184</id><published>2005-01-02T10:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-02T10:54:41.770-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Aphorism...</title><content type='html'>Buzzard in my father's field, what will hop like that over your bones? &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6488464-110468128176913184?l=aaronmccollough.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/110468128176913184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6488464/posts/default/110468128176913184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://aaronmccollough.blogspot.com/2005/01/another-aphorism_110468128176913184.html' title='Another Aphorism...'/><author><name>Aaron McCollough</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11462134957412356058'/></author></entry></feed>