Erik has moved this blog here and there around the blogosphere but it has always remained a forum for amiably vexed relations with language and its precipitates. Keep an eye on the URL; it is likely to change back to eriktrips.com whenever Erik can scrape together the funds for domain hosting at wordpress or when he finally feels that the server he is building under his bed is secure enough to turn to face the internet.
Erik himself is an overeducated poet who currently counts his place as among the invisibly disabled although he has managed to publish a book fairly recently. The question remains rather open as to whether any disposable income will result from the effort, but that was not the main motivation for writing it to begin with.
In addition to the interjections that appear here at the approximate rate of one per month except in November–when he tries to step things up a bit to meet the “write a [large bloc of text] month” that has become customary at that time of year in certain corners of the interwebs–Erik is also working on a monstrous autobiography that tries its best to say everything possible about this sprawling, incomprehensible wreck of a party that we have all been compelled to attend to entirely without our permission: life, in other, more sensible words.
Erik hopes you find something congenial here and invites you to join the conversation even if it progresses a bit slowly at times. He is working hard to find enough compassion for himself to let it be that not every ambition be realized but he is still not convinced that the sun has set on his music career. He does realize he should probably write more than one song a year if it is to amount to anything at all.
We never grow up here although we may be growing old.
