448> crabfest in the vanilla calamari HQ: re-quartered arkhives gitting lost in shocklit city

national archives

4 Sept 2015 > reconciling into routine – putting tutto in its rite place on the homefront – the new Calamari Archive HQ — xcept knot wired yet into the national grid – ComCast guy here as we speak trying to resolve u – dear Inurnet – outside now braving the mosquitos – stomping + slapping so we hand him repellent – accepts w/ a nod – iphone in other hand talking to girlfriend – an argument about «6 buts» – not butts but buts – how she always saying but – «like saying "i like that sports bar but i dont like sports" dont make sense» he sez as analogee – evidently she used the word «but» 6 x the nite b4 + he didnt like it – meanwhile he clips wires + douses hisself w/ Cutter all @ the same time (gotta admit the guy can multitask) — otherwise ComCast = complete idiots – spent hours on the fone haggling w/ 3 diffrent peepole – 1 of them got to the point where we aksed her if she = human — the modem they originully sent didnt have wifi capability — + we thawt we = luddites — ¿who plugs their machines into cords anymore? — only the tip of the iceberg of their incompetence — [beat] – anyway – all fixed now + back online — last week we showed «where we writing from» – here = our vue uv wut we looking @ while we do wut we do here —

new Calamari HQ

5 Sept > went to sum sort of National Book Festiaval today — on the way passed the libary of congriss + national arkhives — the library of congress (name always struck us as funny – like a place where ppl hook up for sex in the stacks) = a stones throw away – if u can throw a stone 500 ft + also insidentally where most of the Calamari gits arkhived in addition to our home — also in the shadow of the Capitol bldg — for those knot familiar w/ The District — they (our 4fathers) quartered it into 4 quadrants — NW + NE + SW + SE — we sit in the SE but the oregin (0, 0) = the Capitol bldg (currently shrouded in scaffolding) — each quadrant (per Wiki) «delineated by their ordinal directions from the medallion located in the Crypt under the Rotunda of the Capitol» —

the oregin (0, 0) of The District


statue of Puck in front of Folger libary –
inscryption reads «For Wisdom's Sake, A Word That all Men Love»


Library of Congress (main Jefferson bldg)(+ our new backdrop to this page = the inside)


Gutenberg bible inside LOC

> continued us along Pennsylvania Ave past the National Archives (pictured @ the beginning uv this post + also this vu below from the Navy memorial) —

> + up 8th street NW—

façade along 8th st


Utz truck parked on 8th

> past yet another libary —

Carnegie libary

> to the National Book Festival – everything we xpected – massive corporate family fun event — but had to see for ourself – why knot sints in our backyard — saw some xhibit on Mapping the West w/ Lewis + Clark – a topic dear to our hearts sints The Becoming + now working on A Raft Manifest — then as much as we cood stomick of an event on 225 years of federal copyright law (call us geeks we know) – crazy that the copyright act = the 1st order of bizness (in 1790) when they founded US – guess our paranoid 4fathers felt they had intellectual property to proteck —

display of lettering @ natl bookfest


X marks the spot

> after went us to git lunch @ Busboys + Poets — named for Langston Hughes who evidently got «discovered» working as a busboy @ a nearby hotel — the food @ B + P nuthing to write home about but intresting place to hang —

Lux lounge


along New York ave


likely to become replaced by a bank ± Whole Foods


whats left uv Capital Fringe



inside B + P (collected Kafka lower right)


Busboys + Poets

> continued slogging east to Union Market (which they shouldnt call a «market» but a yuppie «food court») then home down 6th st —

xing the trax




7 Sept > went running along the waterfront – south down to the Navy Yard – across a bridge into Anacostia — in scouting mode still trying to find good running routes — desent trail along the Potomac + thru sum woods — ran north-east following the river to the E Capitol St bridge — crossed back over + followed the river back on the north bank – past the congressional cemetary where last month they used goats as bushmowers – but unfortunately them work = done + them moved on to greener pastures so we have to wait til next year to see them in action — longer run than we normally do (~8 miles) – purhaps shorter (but more boring) if we cut strait back E Capitol St (the X-axis of the district grid) — in loo + in the spirit of our Maphattan Project we thawt to do the same in DC – to systematically flâneur the district street x street — but knot so straitfwd — all the diagonals throw kinks into the grid — making it a pain to walk ± bike — for now we just letting ourself wander along paths uv least resistance + uv most intrest —

> grilled last nite — mosquitos swarm u the second u step outside so u have to dress head to toe ± douse yourself in Cutter — another nite made softshell crab — reading Lost in the City by Edward P. Jones — «nothing to write home about» but appropriate enuff for our 1st read in DC — as always we knot crazy about strait-up story-telling but @ least the stories all take place in chocolate city – psychogeographical wandering figures prominently (complete w/ street names) — stories of regular folk – written in the early 90s + the stories themselves from the 50s so purhaps a bit dated — now even more gentrified + yuppified — the vanilla from the suburbs now mixing into the chocolate core more + more – but @ least we can relive it vicariously thru reading + meet all the charactors we knot likely to meet en vivo —

8 Sept > labor day — walked down along the river near the Navy Yard — tried to make our way tward the southwest waterfront to find crabs but street blocked by an active crime scene — strait out of 1 of sum crime show — retreated to crappy TGIF-like place near the ballpark — figured save crabs for another day —

@ the Navy Yard

> went to the game – Nats vs Mets — tryin to git into the spirit – all prepared to root x3 for the «home team» – like we used to w/ the Mets – but 99% of Nationals fans = old white folk – hardly representaive uv DC demographic it seems — only blacks u see scalping tickets ± on the street cuz cant afford (± dont want to waste their $ on) tix (even tho much cheaper than say NYC) — got us decent seats behind the dugout – never saw a game that close in NYC — hot as hell tho in direck sun — for a second got xciting when Nationals hit a grandslam — but Metropolitans prevailed + the real fucked thing = ½ the Nats fans left the ballpark before the 7th inning (down 8-5) – lame — ⅓ uv the park full of Mets fans — we (coincidentally) sported a tattered «New York 10019» Hells Kitchen shirt + an urban camouflage sun hat we got in Garissa — otherwise did our best to show team spirit — when deepdown still we rooting for the Mets — not that we give a shit either way – ∀ll just a dumb game —

9 Sept > have us our 1st houseguest so figured weed have a crabfest – ¿how cliché rite? – when in Rome — hoofed it to the wharf – amidst a snarl of freeway xchanges + riverside construxion – janky fish market – centurd round our namesake «Capt White's» — got a ½ bushel of blue crabs – large males — + while there figured may as well git us sum oysters — carried them all in an open tote bag — packed oysters + icepack on top to keep the crabs from snipping our underarm — onto the Metro – nods from locals that knew the drill — into our frigerator to cool them crabby hotheads down —

bellying up to Capt Whites

> peaches also in season so figured 1st ¿why not make us a peach crumble pie? – for dessert – ez enuf — then it came down to cooking the crabs — cod uv had Capt White steam them for us but that = no fun + not as fresh — just watch a few youtube videos to figure out how — most notably this guy seams to have it down to a scients — we didnt have a pot nearly that big tho so had to do them in batches — @ 1st when u git them out of the fridge they lethargic + knot so snippity so knot hard to git them stacked in the pot (w/ 1 of them steamer discs flipped upside down to keep crabs out of the vinegar + beer + old bay concoction) — douse old bay tween each layer — but by the 2nd round the crabs in the sink had warmed up + when u reached for them (we = woosies w/ tongs but still got to use yur hands) they snipped back @ u + all grabbed @ 1 + another forming a daisy chain of live crabs refusing to go in the pot — by this time our better-½ came home so she helped put the lid over them so they didnt git out while we reached for the next — 1 did git out the 1st batch grabbing + everything – almost ate the pie cooling on the counter — felt sort of sick to our stomach doing it — cooking them alive — 1 of the pots had a glass lid so cood see them — tried to justify it in our mind that they just bugs — low order bottom dwellers — + if some1 cooks them alive may as well do it ourself — if u order crab ± lobster in a restraunt u inflict the same suffering wether u see it or knot —

blue crabs b4 –


– after cooking turn brite red

> so w/ the traumatick part over (the abuv foto = only ½ yet uv wut we cooked) we turned to shucking oysters for the appetizer — also a 1st for us — figured we go thru so many oysters may as well git a shucking knife to do them ourselfs – again learning how from youtube — but these oysters knot so easy – the sposed «sweet spot» on the hinge all caked w/ solidified layer upon layer — big briney oysters (presumably from Chesapeake) — we got 1 shucked but coodnt git the 2nd — trying to pry the hinge when all of a sudden jabbed ourself — hard — rite between our thumb + forefinger on our left hand — hurt like hell – felt like it hit bone – knot a big cut but deep – (we did have a towel folded over our hand for protection btw – it just flipped loose ± the shucking knife struck thru it) — went to the bathroom to wash w/ soapy water — our better-½ went to find peroxide – stooped @ the sink running water over it started to feel queasy as we normally do @ the sight of blood – specially our own – we a wimp we know — that puncturing feeling making us feel a pit in our stomick — after running cold H2O on it a minute it stopped bleeding – not so bad we thawt — then last we member we turned around – felt out of body – lite-headed like how sumtimes happens but u know will pass if u dont fight it — then herd a distint crashing sound but otherwise next thing we knew we supine – lain flat on the floor in our better-½'s arms — she screaming hysterickly + freaked out – witch served to freak us out (otherwise we felt no pain) – like wut ¿this = wut it like dying? – in retrospeck we didnt have a clue wut happend – but we just tried to assure her we = ok — felt terrible for scaring her — she sez we blacked out for a good 20 seconds – fell into the glass shower door – knocking it of its hinge almost braking it – our eyes rolling back in our head — she called 911 but we kept saying dont bother – we ok – but she insists we knot — her fone cutting out so she heads tward the front of the house — we cood hear her talking to the 911 operator – we tried to tell her knot to – panicking @ the prospeck of goin to the hospiddle — we felt ok didnt understand wut happend – didnt lose that much blood – not enuf to warrant fainting – but we squeamish easily go into shock – tho this = the 1st time ever for us blacking out — figured we needed to just chill a second + we ok – anything but a trip to the emurgency room — got up to tell her no need to send ambulance we ok – trying desperately to act normal – must have walked thru the kitchen + again we blacked out — falling onto the dining table w/ the crabs piled high on it – evidently hitting our head — by this time drenched in sweat – witch = our reaction to most anything so knot unsual — meanwhile our houseguest shows up – knocks on the door comes in ¿wut the hell? — + then the paramedix showed up — big firetruck w/ red flashing lites — ¿= all this rilly nescassary? — cant believe this = happning — never happens to us — paramedix come in see me – all drenched in sweat – wearing our bad brains shirt (w/ capitol bldg gitting stuck by lightning) + probly our commie hat (to keep our hair in while we cook) — laying next to a table piled high w/ crabs — they take our blood pressure aks us questions like ¿wut day = today? – to witch we say we never know the date – witch evidently = the rite answer — but still they insist we go to hospital to check out our head witch sposedly we fell on x2 tho we dont member a thing — but we insist we feel ok – by now back to normal — so they left us to eat our crabs (we offered them sum but they declined) — a strange start to our 1st crabfest — by this pt (past 8) starving hadnt eaten much all day mite of had sumthing to do w/ it — that + bad karma from cooking the crabs en vivo — but them crabs = «good eating» as they sey round here — wolfed them down 1 x 1 (again learned how to eat them on youtube) — our houseguest tried her hand @ shucking oysters as she had shucked b4 but sed these 1s = particularly difficult — when we 1st cut ourselfs we thawt never wood we try again to shuck but then started thinking we shd git over the fear so we shucked a few in between wrestling the crabs — alreddy hard enuf shucking crabs + oysters let alone w/ our left hand wrapped in tape + gauze that the paramedix put on — gitting all gunked up w/ crab guts + whatnot — but still tween the 3 of us ate a ½-bushel + we ate more than our fair share – probly 15-20 crabs we ate just by ourself —

the aftermath

> + then we ate the peach pie w/ vanilla ice cream — woke up in the middle of the nite our hand throbbing — more then the cutting the blunt trauma made our whole hand hurt — + now feeling our knees + elbows + hip – the parts that broke our falls — the traumaticness sinking in — the reaction of our better-½ a gauge to the potential severity (almost crashing thru the glass door probly wut freaked her out most) — the thawt that we blacked out for the 1st time in our life — never b4 have we had a brake in our space-time continuum — to think we lost those 2 x 20 = 40 seconds — ¿knot sure wut happend w/ that time? — a certin sense of controlessness — freaked out about our lack of ability to stay conscious much as we tried – that spirals into itself to make u lose control even more — your body just deciding to shut down for wutever raison – just the idea of a forein oject (in this case a shucking knife) puncturing our epidermul layer – gitting under skin — strange reaction tho to black out rather than fight it — like those feinting goats — not exactly a good survival skill — but in another sense we feel reset — + still in 1 peace

 447 <( )> 449 > a Seed fever in Asspen induiced by sinickle psycling to get high + knot breeding nun


[  (ɔ)om.Posted 2015  derek white  |  calamari archive   ]