About Me

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e. l . wood is a native of birmingham, alabama. he grew up on the urban streets of dallas, texas before attending college at houston baptist university where he earned a b. a. in english and psychology. after a year of teaching high school english in the public schools of houston, e. l. wood attended sam houston state university where he earned a master’s degree in english. after bouncing around the deep south for several years, he finished his ph. d. in american literature before 1900 at the university of southern mississippi. e. l. wood has been teaching in some capacity since 1992 and has taught for a local community college since 1995. in his spare time, e.l. wood enjoys reading, movies, and the outdoors. he is personally acquainted with several search and rescue teams around the southeast. he is married to the lovely and gracious a. c. they have a daughter (special k), and one dog. They reside in h'burg, deep south. in addition to being the sole proprietor of the gandy dancer billiard parlor, e. l. wood dabbles in folk art and the occasional cultivation of a handlebar mustache.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

what country do you think this is?*


lately, it seems the gop has attempted to have life imitate art. unfortunately, they chose the theater of the absurd to immolate in the last election cycle. and clearly, even after the election, some folks in the party still don’t get it. this is poignantly illustrated by congressman joe knollenberg (republican, michigan) at around the three minute mark of the following clip. note knollenberg’s answer to cavuto’s question, “where do you draw the line with our money?” joe’s answer is not unlike the clock in perandello’s play , the bald soprano, which strikes the hour twenty-nine in one scene and “as many times as it wants” in another. there’s a disconnect here that is becoming more and more bizarre as the calendar turns.



*garage attendant - ferris bueller's day off

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

pic from dia de los muertos


click to enlarge scary skull face

Monday, November 17, 2008

fashion trends in the deep south



as an instructor on a college campus, i see a range of fashion year to year, season to season. every now and again, a fad or trend will surface that piques my curiosity as to how and why said fashion evolved. currently, a bizarre trend grips our deep south campus where the temperatures during the months of october and november average around 85 degrees for highs and about 45 degrees for lows. on any given day, more than half the co-eds are wearing shorts accented by snow boots with fuzzy trim. are these folks hot or cold? when is the last time it snowed on this campus? does the bookstore carry odor-eaters? is the circulation in their extremities poor while their core temperatures remain above average? is this look popular in current pop culture? is this a statement on the alleged global warming? what would mr. blackwell think of this look, god rest his soul? while not as troubling as the billed cap worn cock-eyed or as strange as a toboggan with a bill, i do wonder what these young folks are thinking as they dress for the day. probably the same thing i was thinking during the early 1980’s while sporting argyle patterns suited only for exclusive links courses or pastel tee-shirts and white jackets with the sleeves rolled up a la the set of miami vice. huaraches and mullets, anyone?

Friday, November 07, 2008

the signs are everywhere. . .we just need to see them


“Dagny, the whole world’s in a terrible state right now. I don’t know what’s wrong with it, but something’s very wrong. Men have to get together and find a way out. But who’s to decide which way to take, unless it’s the majority? I guess that’s the only fair method of deciding, I don’t see any other. I suppose somebody’s got to be sacrificed. If it turned out to be me, I have no right to complain. The right’s on their side. Men have to get together.”
She made an effort to speak calmly; she was trembling with anger. “If that’s the price of getting together, then I’ll be damned if I want to live on the same earth with any human beings! If the rest of them can survive only by destroying us, then why should we wish them to survive? Nothing can make self-immolation proper. Nothing can give them the right to turn men into sacrificial animals. Nothing can make it moral to destroy the best. One can’t be punished for being good. One can’t be penalized for ability. If that’s right, then we’d better start slaughtering one another, because there isn’t any right at all in the world!”
He did not answer. He looked at her helplessly.
“If it’s that kind of world, how can we live in it?” she asked.
“I don’t know . . .” he whispered.
“Dan, do you really think it’s right? In all truth, deep down, do you think it’s right?”
He closed his eyes. “No,” he said. Then he looked at her and she saw a look of torture for the first time. “That’s what I’ve been sitting here trying to understand. I know that I ought to think it’s right – but I can’t. It’s as if my tongue wouldn’t turn to say it. I keep seeing every tie of track down there, every signal light, every bridge, every night that I spent when . . .” His head dropped down on his arms. “Oh God, it’s so damn unjust!”
“Dan,” she said through her teeth, “fight it.”
He raised his head. His eyes were empty. “No,” he said. “It would be wrong. I’m just selfish.”
“Oh, damn that rotten tripe! You know better than that!”
“I don’t know . . .” His voice was very tired. “I’ve been sitting here, trying to think about it . . . I don’t know what is right anymore. . . .” He added, “I don’t think I care.”
She knew suddenly that all further words were useless and that Dan Conway would never be a man of action again. She did not know what made her certain of it. She said, wondering, “You’ve never given up in the face of a battle before.”
“No, I guess I haven’t. . . .” He spoke with a quiet, indifferent astonishment. “I’ve fought storms and floods and rock slides and rail fissure. . . . I knew how to do it, and I liked doing it. . . . But this kind of battle – it’s one I can’t fight.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Who knows why the world is what it is?”

Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged

Thursday, November 06, 2008

more halloween goodness!



here's special K in her wilbur (pronounced "YIL-bur") costume. we went to our halloween party as the cast of charlotte's web. big al was a stunningly beautiful charlotte and i had my own gutter rat take on templeton. a good time was had by all. as soon as ms lundy forwards the digital pics, we'll post more.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

halloween treats!


as always, halloween was a blast! this year was especially memorable since my daughter was able to have BIG fun in all the festivities – halloween party at our house, carnival at the school, trick or treating in the neighborhood. lots of candy and good times. this is one of the early pics we got back from the disco tent at the school carnival. thanks, laura, for snapping it and sending it our way!