I know this sounds callous and complicitous, but my generation of mes probably won't lack for catfood, it's my daughter's generation that will begin hording catfood, it's my grand-childrens' world that need survive the catfood famines, both natural and man-made, but my only child wants to go to Bowdoin or Hamilton or Carleton or any of seven others, we can afford to send her to a school which will credential her to be in a class of Americans who'll risk exposure to tainted blackmarket catfood almost next to last, and so would you.
I'm still distraught with the certainty I'm leaving my daughter a world shittier than my parents left me, but I fear I've underestimated with my puny hive-mind how many zeroes are multiplying zeroes in cascades of kazillions of totalitarian square-root signs, that my house may be repossessed by square root even after I've paid it off, that my timeline of catfoodery is too optimistic by at least one generation.
- Stand-up comedy.
- 5 myths about taxes.
- Progressive, like the 1980s.
- Work forever.
- Bay Bridge one of world's scariest?
- MOCO cops taze 65 year old man.
- I don't know if this was a suicide, but there's a history of people committing suicide by stepping in front of freight trains near Randolph Road.
- UPDATE! Yesterday I got a lot of hits at the old place from people googling images of Michelle Lissel, the dreamy dominatrix from Fox Soccer Channel who left FSC to take a front office job with Toronto FC and I wondered why. Maybe this had something to do with it.
- Poster Children is one of the bands in the CD crates found when Elric moved his stuff out of our basement.
Born 116 years ago today:
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience,your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose or if your wish be to close me, i and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending; nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing (i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
Here's another band in the CD crate found in my basement: