Because some mornings can be so depressing that you just gotta to have a belly aching laugh to get you going. I first heard snippets of Richard Pryor's masterful comedy on a NPR's "Fresh Air" on the history and sociology of the word "Nigger".

Incidentally this was on the road trip back from my first ten day Vipassana meditation retreat. There I was sitting in a car, hitching a ride back to Atlanta from Flordia on a Georgia backroad formerly known as the Cotton Highway, and there was this man on the radio saying "Motherfucker" in about twenty different unique styles. In spite of the high level of profanity etc in his comedy, I thought Pryor was quite close to being a Zen master then as I do now.

So here are some links to the man who quipped on being given the inaugural Mark Twain Prize for American Humor: "Two things people throughout history have had in common are hatred and humor. I am proud, that like Mark Twain, I've been able to use humor to lessen people's hatred. I feel great about accepting this prize. It is nice to be regarded on par with a great white man. Now that's funny."

on working for the Mafia (a video clip) on comparative sexology (a video clip) playing Mudbone (a video clip) an interview on "Fresh Air" some snippets on NPR

I heard Amiee Mann's quite songs way back when watching the movie "Magnolia". These songs also have strong cross echoes with Elliot Smith's songs such as Angeles and Miss Misery on the sound track of "Good Will Hunting".

The most mesmerizing of these songs is "Wise Up", which popped into my head when an Iranian (in-exile) friend sent me an email asking me what I thought of the Middle East madness.

It's not going to stop, until you wise up...

Also listen to "Save Me" from the same movie.

There is at least one pair in every thrift shop in America, molded in plastic or plaster of paris and glued to a plaque, or printed in church pamphlet colors and framed under glass. Today I saw a pair made out of lightweight wire stretched over a pattern of finishing nails. this is the way faith goes from door to door, cast out of one and welcomed at another. A butterfly presses its wings like that as it rests between flowers.

Notes: I was asked to accompany my friend T to a book signing earlier this evening as he wanted me to meet a theologian friend of his. She had just written a memoir on leaving organized church for a more personal religion. As he was waiting in line to get his books signed (one of which was for me), I was looking at the small poetry rack they had in the store, and in this process picked up Ted Kooser's latest volume "Delights & Shadows".