Category: writing

Kevin Smith Reveals Coverage On His Superman Lives Treatment From the ’90s

~ Chris Cocca ~ Leave a comment

Now the battle is to keep fascists out of power and freedom in sight. Even the Daily Planet suffers at the hands of the villains, who fear the truth of their exploits will be exposed and therefore go after Lois and the free press. The struggle is to keep Brainiac from overtaking the world via mindless technology while trickster Lex Luthor works in tandem, to fool everyone into believing they need protection from a false enemy, while he shields the sun and becomes the lone source of energy for sale…”

Kevin Smith may have accidentally created our current timeline.

https://comicbook.com/movies/news/kevin-smith-reveals-coverage-on-his-superman-lives-treatment-fro/

Even Now, My Dad is Cooler

~ Chris Cocca ~ Leave a comment

I said the other day that our family was not one to spend serious money on shoes.

I forgot the one exception.

In 1991, my dad was in his late 30s. He was very active in our regional men’s fast-pitch league (I have nothing but derisive things to say about so-called ‘slo-pitch’) and played a lot of racquetball and handball. He was good at all of them.

Somehow, he ended up with a pair of Rebook Pumps that Christmas. I think my Grammy bought them. All I remember is double-checking that the tag was not, in fact, made out to me.

I never got the Agassis, but Dad did give me the sweet-ass box those ATXes came in. I used it to store my NES games, and even that far removed from the actual shoe, I still felt cool as hell.

Anoche cuando dormía – three translations of the Antonio Machado poem

~ Chris Cocca ~ Leave a comment

I was writing a poem about bees, and a friend shared these with me. They are lovely.

vielmetti's avatarEdward Vielmetti's WordPress weblog

Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt – marvelous error! –
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from all my old failures.

(Antonio Machado, translated by Robert Bly)

Last night I had a dream—
a blessed illusion it was—
I dreamt of a hive at work
deep down in my heart.
Within were the golden bees
straining out the bitter past
to make sweet-tasting honey,
and white honeycomb.

(Antonio Machado, translated byAlan S. Trueblood)

Last night while sleeping
I dreamt, – blessed illusion!
that a beehive
within my heart;
and the golden bees
were making,
from my bitter disappointments,
white wax and sweet honey.

(Antonio Machado, translated by Chris Cavanagh)

Anoche cuando dormía
soñé, ¡bendita ilusión!,
que una colmena tenía
dentro de mi corazón;
y las doradas abejas
iban fabricando en él,
con las…

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