I like some Philip Glass much and some not at all; as I said to (don't fear) the griper, there's plenty of better shit that he'd hate more, adding, I try every fucking day! The post was more responding to Glass' participation in that Occupy moment and what it might signify, I was using my playbook of self-serving swerves, the playbook that allows me to live in reflexive minor self-scourging peace through whining on my shitty blog about my complicity's palette, how I'll poke it but not change it, which is to say I still haven't found the language to express how at best, with human's involved, the plus/minus ratio between more or less shitty at .06%, why I still invest more than wishful idolatry towards a mythical ideal as proof of some moral superiority though such investment is proof both for and against such ideals. Why always me?
- Occupy Empire.
- Threat level 99%.
- Occupy DC.
- Decaying facade.
- Janitors join Occupy.
- The untouchables of Zuccotti Park.
- Police state.
- Fried chicken still on the menu.
- She Is as Shitty... really hates Gingrich.
- Moses to God.
- That's what I said sometime last week.
- The Cabins.
- Earthgirl's second favorite novelist. As for George Herbert, Hecht constantly urged me to read him, though it never quite worked.
- It's almost Zappadan, yes? Reminder, I celebrate Zappadan and honor Zappadanis and will Kind when found, but while I admire and like Zappa, he's never been in any rotation for any sillyass desert game long before three of the five seats were filled.
- Pruit Igoe.
- The Grid.
Love built a stately house, where Fortune came, And spinning fancies, she was heard to say That her fine cobwebs did support the frame, Whereas they were supported by the same; But Wisdom quickly swept them all away. The Pleasure came, who, liking not the fashion, Began to make balconies, terraces, Till she had weakened all by alteration; But reverend laws, and many a proclomation Reforméd all at length with menaces. Then entered Sin, and with that sycamore Whose leaves first sheltered man from drought and dew, Working and winding slily evermore, The inward walls and summers cleft and tore; But Grace shored these, and cut that as it grew. Then Sin combined with death in a firm band, To raze the building to the very floor; Which they effected,--none could them withstand; But Love and Grace took Glory by the hand, And built a braver palace than before.