George was born sixty-eight years ago today. I love George. I can say with utter certainty that I have listened to All Things Must Pass more than any other album. In that sillyass desert island game, it's one of five.
Ric Flair is 62 today:
His shoes cost more than your house.
- Shoes for Barack.
- The future.
- Back to the future.
- All-American decline.
- Wrong questions, wrong answers.
- A love that dare not speak its name.
- Volcano of rage.
- So the fuck what.
- Krugman is never going to have his obamapostasy.
- On the above.
- I'm Robert Siegel.
- UPDATE! On the above.
- Objecting to butt-kissing (when caught).
- Gaithersburg semen squirter sentenced!
- New TV on the Radio!
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper-colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have in order to be singular? (Echo persuades us everything we say has been said at least once before.) Two plump, bald men in gray tee-shirts and tan shorts are walking a small bulldog – followed by the eyes of an invisible third person. The Trinity was born from what we know of the bitter symbiosis of couples. Can we reduce echo’s sadness by synchronizing our speeches? Is it the beginning or end of real love when we pity a person because, in him, we see ourselves?