There have been moments in our history when important elements of business were "progressive" in the sense of recognizing that social reform was in capitalism's long-term interest.
Yes, there were. Capitalism has reassessed and decided social reform as loss-leader no longer provides adequate return on investment, short or long-term.
I've no viable alternative myself re: clusterfuck, though I've been urged to bleggalgaze again, but no, one bleggalgaze the second slowest week in Blegsylvania is enough.
Wait, there's this!
Nine years after the terrorist attacks of 2001, the United States is assembling a vast domestic intelligence apparatus to collect information about Americans, using the FBI, local police, state homeland security offices and military criminal investigators.
The system, by far the largest and most technologically sophisticated in the nation's history, collects, stores and analyzes information about thousands of U.S. citizens and residents, many of whom have not been accused of any wrongdoing.
Duh and all, but I'm sure E.J. Dionne is this moment contemplating a column on the progressive values of Sitting the Fuck Down and Shutting the Fuck Up.
- Government's one-way mirror.
- The great fear.
- Tale of two websites.
- Ideological State Apparatus is Xmas #1.
- The War on Christmas.
- I'm all for an independent Crackerstan.
- War criminals shouldn't cheat on their wives.
- Yay! I've been drinking water with known carcinogen!
- Death ray in Rockville!
- Fucking shoot me.
- Abject-Oriented Ontology.
- Rules are broken to be made.
- Wear John Ashbery's head at your own peril.
- The Weather: A Report on the Sincerity.
- Lisa Robertson.
- Both links above h/t wood s lot, whom you should subscribe to.
- Lisa Robertson's Magenta Soul Whip is kaboom.
- Darkblack's Sunday Overnight.
- Emerald and Lime.
- Things behind the sun.
- Don't need a reason.
- Lick my decals off, baby.
ESSAY ON RESEMBLANCE
Our toebones resemble the toebones of another species whose individuals prefer a climate, which is also our ideal climate, the climate through which knowledge culminates in itself and in which we rest on porches because it is expedient to do so, gently fanning our digits, gently fanning.
This is about non-mystical doubling, which is also mystical. In theosophical cabins made of cedar and tin, freedom and poetry repeat unpunctuated, correspondent. Their leaves are moving.