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jeffreymoro.com
jeffrey moro
@jeffreymoro.com
140 followers 110 following 16 posts
asst. clinical prof. @ https://mith.umd.edu
I mostly write about old computers & the weather
📍 Baltimore
🔗 https://jeffreymoro.com
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I went to Savannah and all I got was this blog post: jeffreymoro.com/blog/2025-10...
The low sweep of the Georgia coast looks at first as though a long war between land and sea has come to an uneasy truce. Each front has gained on the other until distinctions no longer hold, leaving exclaves and enclaves like a Balkan border: brackish pools and miniature lakes shape the negative space of a latticework of grass; above, crows and herons and turkey vultures prowl for their catch of the day. Roads risk the coast and bridges hold where they can. The sea, underneath all, secrets itself behind mangrove and palm, but you can still smell it. The salt-rot is in the dirt.
October 13, 2025 at 3:59 PM
jeffreymoro.com
a new blog post, in which I explain the difference between trochees and iambs and we take a brief detour to medieval Japan: jeffreymoro.com/blog/2025-07...
I have been derelict in writing these past few weeks, to no small shame given that I got through two posts of this blog slash newsletter slash thing and immediately fell off the wagon. Mea culpa. My excuse: that I have been packing up my life in DC and moving it, after months of stops and starts, to Baltimore. We’re mostly unpacked. The cat is unfazed. I have spent more money than I thought even possible. It’s an adjustment, a good one, I think.
July 30, 2025 at 9:25 PM
jeffreymoro.com
another post, this time about wood as an element and also about contract labor (in several respects): jeffreymoro.com/blog/2025-07...
When we bought the house, one half of a two-story duplex in north Baltimore (the stage left half), we thought the floors on the first level were pine. Up the stairs and into the second level ran grey carpet, wall-to-wall. We would have it removed, we said. We didn’t know what was underneath; the inspector suggested generic subfloor and we didn’t know enough to disagree. Homeownership, I have learned, even in its preliminary stages, entails putting your faith in others. So when we bought the house, the floors were pine.
July 4, 2025 at 2:59 PM
jeffreymoro.com
for this week’s blog, I wrote about a glam rock song from the 1970s and what you do when you just can’t look away jeffreymoro.com/blog/2025-06...
the beginning of a blog post: “The temperature’s rising,” Brian Eno sang. Out of the ten tracks on Eno’s debut solo record Here Come the Warm Jets, released in 1974, the third track, “Baby’s on Fire,” has always held me hypnotized. The song’s “plot,” such as it is: an unnamed woman on fire, papped by giggling onlookers, Eno crooning out her plight with a barely contained sneer — and then that guitar solo, three-and-a-half minutes of Robert Fripp freaking the fuck out over the steady cacophony of the song’s two (count ’em, two) chords. Fripp was no stranger to violent and surreal art rock: the opening track of his band King Crimson’s debut, In the Court of the Crimson King, released five years earlier, declaims “innocents raped with / napalm fire” over a set of accelerating free jazz riffs. The temperature in the 1960s and 1970s was no doubt rising, if metaphorically — meteorological data suggests that summers in the United States and Europe were if anything a bit cooler during those years compared to pre-industrial averages — but politically and socially, the heat was on.
June 20, 2025 at 1:55 PM
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cat pic as promised
an orange cat sitting in a window
June 14, 2025 at 12:45 PM