Yes, there was more here last night, and Red House Painters too. Now here.
WFMU widget was below, was messing with motherfucking blooger. See widget in blogroll left.
- I pledged Mouse of the Day! I'm getting: Dan Bodah's Break the Tabs & Check Dolby B, Julie's Living in the Dark, Irwin's I Want to Be a Singer, Fabio's O S T-The 2012 Marathon Premium for Strength Through Failure, Stan's Stoned in the Garden of Eden, Inflatable Squirrel Carcass Coloring Book III - Revenge of the Tints, Martha's That's Not Punk, You F**king Poseur, and a WF-MU tee. Yay!
- NYPD Zagat Guide to best and most threatening Newark Muslim restaurants.
- Yes, this occurred to me too.
- She Who Is As Shitty pronounces Frothy dead.
- Yes, but they are motherfucking crackers.
- E.J. Dionne is astonished - astonished! - re: motherfucking crackers.
- Wawa creeping closer. Posted because months ago I asked why there are no Sheetz and Wawas in MOCO. I now vaguely remember hearing once years ago that gas stations in MOCO got some law written that protects them from Wawas and Sheetzs. Anyone?
- Floor, a new online poetry magazine, is worth your eyes.
- Who was Lorine Niedecker?
- I get email. PlayGround, a new online music magazine, asked nicely for a bump so here it is. Please note: Grimes is a motherfucking idiot.
- On Throbbing Gristle.
- Some The Clean to listen to.
- Something that occurred to me when posting Sun Kil Moon is how utterly Modest Mouse - who Kozelek clearly loves, he covers so much - has vanished from public consciousness.
- New Rufus Wainwright.
- Was asked to post some Brendan Benson, who I'd never heard of, in part because BLCKDGRD is a completely Jack White-free zone.
IN THE GREAT SNOWFALL BEFORE THE BOMB
In the great snowfall before the bomb colored yule tree lights windows, the only glow for contemplation along this road I worked the print shop right down among em the folk from whom all poetry flows and dreadfully much else. I was Blondie I carried my bundles of hog feeder price lists down by Larry the Lug, I'd never get anywhere because I'd never had suction, pull, you know, favor, drag, well-oiled protection. I heard their rehashed radio barbs— more barbarous among hirelings as higher-ups grow more corrupt. But what vitality! The women hold jobs— clean house, cook, raise children, bowl and go to church. What would they say if they knew I sit for two months on six lines of poetry?