As of seven this morning, it's buried on the Post's front webpage, doesn't appear at all on the NYT's front webpage, and none of the mouth-breathers at the Corner have started woofing, so maybe I'm wrong about everyone but me. On the other hand, I was going to write more about Maryland's uniform in general and my willfully incoherent aesthetic of uniforms in lengthy particular (plus more Harkin v Obama nonsense), so lucky you, consider yourself spared. Look! I did it again!
- Towards an aesthetics of entropy (part two).
- Cassandra and the limits to growth.
- School Reform: A Failing Grade. Standard disclaimer: my wife is a public school teacher, one of my best friends is a public school teacher, my mother and father were public school teachers, some of my favorite aunts and uncles were school teachers, so I am completely pro-teacher; I post links about public education that strike me as important but because of my immense conflict of interest I wont hazard a comment past that.
- Neo-liberalism redux.
- Was there an alternative?
- Double-dose of Chomsky.
- Stoller has a new piece up on smearing Schneiderman and Your Fucking Washington Post's fucking washingtonpostness.
- Obamapologist responds to Stoller.
- Disuse your illusion.
- Crackers and pigs.
- Do you suffer from PDS?
- Two reasons it may not be the shitstorm I thought it would be: (1) those shot were soldiers, not a Villager, and the Villagers don't give a shit about soldiers, and (2) POTUS 12 sucks all the air out of the media vacuum.
- Peter Pan finally to die.
- My future hell.
- The million basic plots.
- Twenty iconic book covers.
- The Long Booker. Nobel will be announced in a month, I haven't seen the traditional Is this the year Philip Roth wins the Nobel stories in Blegsylvania or real life yet.
Julianna Barwick & Ikue Mori - Rejoinder from RVNG Intl. on Vimeo.
HOW SIMILE WORKS
The drizzle-slicked cobblestone alleys of some city; and the brickwork back of the lumbering Galapagos tortoise they'd set me astride, at the "petting zoo".... The taste of our squabble still in my mouth the next day; and the brackish puddles sectioning the street one morning after a storm.... So poetry configures its comparisons. My wife and I have been arguing; now I'm telling her a childhood reminiscence, stroking her back, her naked back that was the particles in the heart of a star and will be again, and is hers, and is like nothing else, and is like the components of everything.
Julianna Barwick & Ikue Mori - Dream Sequence from RVNG Intl. on Vimeo.