Doug says - Flowers are not just for pansies!!!

Welcome to my little homestead on the Internet. I am a Computer Operator working for the Information Technology department of Southern Illinois University at Carbondale. Working for SIU might not make me rich, but it pays the bills, and I get to work with some interesting people and some interesting technology. Step this way if you want to know a little bit more about me. You may also learn a little bit more about me by checking out the links that I frequent, or the causes and ideals that I advocate. You can even see some pictures of me and of the dear kitty, Johann Sebastian Bach Flummer.

I can be kinda busy in my spare time. I host a radio program on Sunday nights on our local community radio station, WDBX, 91.1 FM (our new website - check it out!). I call it The Galaxy, and it is two hours of an unusually wide variety of music. We have streaming audio now, and it will be linked to the WDBX site shortly.

You can also check out my DougBlog

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What's New:

  • February 2nd, 2007 - Believe it or not, I've actually been sort of working on the page, but right now it's mainly in the conceptual stage (meaning, I'm thinking about it). Obviously, some changes are probably needed, as I've had this same background on here since the mid to late '90s. I've also had some personal changes in my life as well, and it probably wouldn't hurt for my page to be more reflective of that as well. However, it should be noted that people aren't using homepages the way they once did. Personal pages are gone, replaced with blogs, MySpace and whatever (I do have a blog, although I'm not much of a blogger, but I don't do MySpace or FaceBook). One just doesn't browse through Geocities like we once did. But that is how things go. That's alright - most of my recent work on the webpage concerns the radio show webpage (you know, the Galaxy). In any case, I believe that some new pictures will be forthcoming.

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    A Little Bit of Poetry:
    Something to Inspire Thought and Reflection

    Lady Lazarus

    by Sylvia Plath

    I have done it again.
    One year in every ten
    I manage it-----

    A sort of walking miracle, my skin
    Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
    My right foot

    A paperweight,
    My featureless, fine
    Jew linen.

    Peel off the napkin
    O my enemy.
    Do I terrify?-------

    The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
    The sour breath
    Will vanish in a day.

    Soon, soon the flesh
    The grave cave ate will be
    At home on me

    And I a smiling woman.
    I am only thirty.
    And like the cat I have nine times to die.

    This is Number Three.
    What a trash
    To annihilate each decade.

    What a million filaments.
    The Peanut-crunching crowd
    Shoves in to see

    Them unwrap me hand in foot ------
    The big strip tease.
    Gentleman , ladies

    These are my hands
    My knees.
    I may be skin and bone,

    Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
    The first time it happened I was ten.
    It was an accident.

    The second time I meant
    To last it out and not come back at all.
    I rocked shut

    As a seashell.
    They had to call and call
    And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

    Dying
    Is an art, like everything else.
    I do it exceptionally well.

    I do it so it feels like hell.
    I do it so it feels real.
    I guess you could say I've a call.

    It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
    It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
    It's the theatrical

    Comeback in broad day
    To the same place, the same face, the same brute
    Amused shout:

    'A miracle!'
    That knocks me out.
    There is a charge

    For the eyeing my scars, there is a charge
    For the hearing of my heart---
    It really goes.

    And there is a charge, a very large charge
    For a word or a touch
    Or a bit of blood

    Or a piece of my hair on my clothes.
    So, so, Herr Doktor.
    So, Herr Enemy.

    I am your opus,
    I am your valuable,
    The pure gold baby

    That melts to a shriek.
    I turn and burn.
    Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

    Ash, ash---
    You poke and stir.
    Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----

    A cake of soap,
    A wedding ring,
    A gold filling.

    Herr God, Herr Lucifer
    Beware
    Beware.

    Out of the ash
    I rise with my red hair
    And I eat men like air.

    There's a movie about Sylvia Plath, starring Gwenneth Paltrow, that was pretty good and explained a lot about this tortured soul. However, it still doesn't quite equal reading some of her poetry. I've had In Plaster posted on this page for a number of years - maybe 5 or 6, and I've come to the realization that change is sometimes healthy for the soul. I've become quite entranced by this poem here, which tells of a person with a penchant for, shall we say, life renewal?

    Thanks for visiting. Do come back soon!


    Last updated on February 2nd, 2007 - you should be able to guess who maintains this page, so I won't insult you by telling you.

    I acquired this lovely floral background from Sharon at Ace of Space some years ago - ok, many years ago.

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