- Rick Nielsen is sixty-six today. I love a third of Cheap Trick songs, meh another third, loathe the remaining third, they were on the daily soundtrack three decades ago, shoot me. That's today's monologue. I was going to post what I wrote about lunch yesterday with a friend and former poli/sci professor who specializes in American political culture, but (a) I need to think about it more (b) it's the weekend before Giftmas, I've things to do (c) it's the weekend before Giftmas, people have things to do and by and large aren't here (d) see this post's title and (e) the discussion turned to argument over less-shittism, neither changed the other's mind, fuck rehashing that, at least today.
- Enacting Democracy.
- Crony capitalism's power couple.
- The coming drone attack on America.
- Beware of criminal gangs.
- Hey Joe, where you going with that gun in your hand?
- Deficit is the wrong word and concept.
- Why he doesn't much like Liberals.
- The Republicans have already won.
- Liberal Republican? Moderate Republican.
- Rimbaud Conservatism.
- Senator Frank?
- Externalities and the dubious defense of gun rights.
- You can have my pseudo ephedrine when you pry it from my cold dead hands.
- Philosophical delusion and therapy.
- Raging contradictions.
- Rick Nielsen is sixty-six. Fuck I'm old.
- Fucked Up playing free show in Brooklyn tonight (for the few of you here from there).
- Fabulous first song of Bryce's show by Pork Queen. Never heard of Pork Queen, googled it. Gah, the band is not near the top of google hits for Pork Queen.
- Holyfuckedness! Oh man, where has this website been all my life?
A novelist calls me brave for writing about violence. This seems a condescending thing to say. A scholar mentions the war, the problem of pleasure, and sips his wine. This, a condescending sentence to write. The tulips bow their heads. Ruskin: "All violent feelings have the same effect. They produce in us a falseness in all our impressions of external things, which I would generally characterize as the 'pathetic fallacy.'"
My baby wakes up and I am saved by the winds of chance, says the soldier on returning to his two-story home in Pensacola.