>>>Deleted bleggalgazing<<< >>>Deleted clusterfuckblarging<<< Instead, yes, I know Herman Melville was born 193 years ago yesterday. Time to re-Confidence Man, re-Pierre, Moby Dick's xteenth rereading due 2014, every World Cup year, makes scheduling easier. From Moby Dick:
Though amid all the smoking horror and diabolism of a sea-fight, sharks will be seen longingly gazing up to the ship's decks, like hungry dogs round a table where red meat is being carved, ready to bolt down every killed man that is tossed to them; and though, while the valiant butchers over the deck-table are thus cannibally carving each other's live meat with carving-knives all gilded and tassled, the sharks, also, with the jewel-hilted mouths, are quarrelsomely carving away under the table at the dead meat; and though, were you to turn the whole affair upside-down, it would still be pretty much the same thing, that is to say, a shocking sharkish business enough for all parties; and though sharks also are the invariable outriders of slave ships crossing the Atlantic, systematically trotting alongside, to be handy in case a parcel is to be carried anywhere, or a dead slave to be decently buried; and though one or two other like instances might be set down, touching the set terms, places, and occasions, when sharks do socially congregate, and most hilariously feast; yet there is no conceivable time or occasion when you will find them in such countless numbers, and in gayer or more jovial spirits, than around a dead sperm whale, moored by night to a whale-ship at sea. If you have never seen that sight, then suspend your decision about the propriety of devil-worship, and the expediency of conciliating the devil.
- Motherfucker, I still can't help getting mad. Stupid me.
- Motherfucking Obama.
- Either would be excellent from a giggle's point of view.
- Go Jill Stein.
- 1943 = 2012.
- The perversion of scholarship.
- Gore Vidal.
- Eat Mor Chikin if you want. Don't if you don't. I was talking with a friend who was griefing me for griefing her for advocating gov't banning of new franchises, it dawned on me what scared her when I said, you give the guy grief for being a capitalist and yet he deliberately chooses to throw away one-seventh of his potential profits by closing on Sundays in the cause of his belief. He acts on his faith more than she acts on hers.
- Because, also too. Stupid motherfucking liberals. And by that I mean me, not in this case, but elsewhere.
- Boatload of sillyass Star Trek allusions.
- Things you might have missed.
- I had a friend who lived on Moxley Road. Is it Clarksburg, is it Damascus? Automocoblogography, yo.
- Kevin Payne and Ben Olsen on Kojo Nnamdi show today at 1pm EDT.
Melville, Moby Dick
Is it that by its indefiniteness it shadows forth the heartless voids and immensities of the universe, and thus stabs us from behind with the thought of annihilation, when beholding the white depths of the milky way? Or is it, that as in essence whiteness is not so much a color as the visible absence of color; and at the same time the concrete of all colors; is it for these reasons that there is such a dumb blankness, full of meaning, in a wide landscape of snows- a colorless, all-color of atheism from which we shrink? And when we consider that other theory of the natural philosophers, that all other earthly hues- every stately or lovely emblazoning- the sweet tinges of sunset skies and woods; yea, and the gilded velvets of butterflies, and the butterfly cheeks of young girls; all these are but subtle deceits, not actually inherent in substances, but only laid on from without; so that all deified Nature absolutely paints like the harlot, whose allurements cover nothing but the charnel-house within; and when we proceed further, and consider that the mystical cosmetic which produces every one of her hues, the great principle of light, for ever remains white or colorless in itself, and if operating without medium upon matter, would touch all objects, even tulips and roses, with its own blank tinge- pondering all this, the palsied universe lies before us a leper; and like wilful travellers in Lapland, who refuse to wear colored and coloring glasses upon their eyes, so the wretched infidel gazes himself blind at the monumental white shroud that wraps all the prospect around him. And of all these things the Albino whale was the symbol. Wonder ye then at the fiery hunt?