As He Grew Older He Loved the Word Etcetera and Refused to Abbreviate It

• Progressive movement as PR front for rich Democrats.
• Pragmatic centrism is crony capitalism.
• The enemy-industrial complex.
• The elites' propaganda system.
• Resistance versus emancipation.
• Resignation or revolution.
• The thing is we're losing.
• To save everything, click here.
• The *P* in poetry is political, and I agree but so?
• So yes, reengaging the fuck it, a faith in faith's persistence and ability to find a bed at night, etcetera. To embiggen the above go here, click mosaic, yo, then click it again. Or not.
• Maggie's linkages.
• Sunday linkages.
• { feuilleton }'s linkages.
• Fuck me jig, yo.
• Reconsidering Richard Ford, who I read once but largely forget and not because of his poke at lit bloggers living in Terre Haute but because I don't remember the novels, just reading them, which is no doubt on me.
• Rat-sized house-eating snails?
• Paper versus screen.
• Stalin's library card.
• The 23 most beautiful solo piano pieces?
• Wowee! Archives of 1985 Throwing Muses concert. I was young once too.
• Via Edmond:

           
PERPETUALLY ATTEMPTING TO SOAR

Mary Ruefle

A boy from Brooklyn used to cruise on summer nights.

As soon as he’d hit sixty he’d hold his hand out the window,

cupping it around the wind. He’d been assured

this is exactly how a woman’s breast feels when you put

your hand around it and apply a little pressure. Now he knew,

and he loved it. Night after night, again and again, until

the weather grew cold and he had to roll the window up.

For many years afterwards he was perpetually attempting

to soar. One winter’s night, holding his wife’s breast

in his hand, he closed his eyes and wanted to weep.

He loved her, but it was the wind he imagined now.

As he grew older, he loved the word etcetera and refused

to abbreviate it. He loved sweet white butter. He often

pretended to be playing the organ. On one of his last mornings,

he noticed the shape of his face molded in the pillow.

He shook it out, but the next morning it reappeared.