New Yo La Tengo! New album out on my birthday!
This is true: DC United plays Chicago tonight at RFK. I had season tickets from 2003 through last year and until last year rarely missed a game and those only for extraordinary reasons (Hamster's 50th birthday party in Baltimore) and an acquaintance of mine who I used to meet at halftime at home games for a beer has an extra ticket for tonight and asked me if I wanted to go.
Quick: While DCU contributed to my fall from love - primarily their refusal to promise LOUD SIDE! would get equal seating at a new stadium as currently at RFK - my fall from love was, as is everything, about me. I no longer wanted to dress in tribal colors and stand and chant tribal lyrics at Corporate mercenaries. The yodeling of the past few weeks here about sports and tribalism and Corporate apply. I was delighted that United had a wildly successful 2014 season so I could quit while they were good rather than bad for a recovering zealot's self-congratulatory reasons.
I considered going for old time's sake plus to hang with a friend. Yesterday, just as I was about to decide whether to go or not, news that DC United is considering reneging on a deal with the District on a new soccer stadium at Sparrows Point. Look, I realize this is DC United seeking leverage on the final deal with the District, and I acknowledge it's entirely possible - probable, even - that District government weaseling on the deal's fringes forced United to go public with threats to move to Loudoun County. Long-timers here remember my promise of a Fuck-You-Jig: I've never thought there would be a new stadium in the District and promised to video record me dancing in front of my new seat in a new stadium if I was wrong, and that sentiment was based on the asshats who run the District, not the assholes that run United.
Imagine how unsurprised and delighted I unthinkingly was at the delicious waves of fury pulsing through me at United for the transparent stunt. I impulsively tweeted anti-United angrily, recklessly, was fun! cathartic! (If only temporarily, and left me with this guilty - but not too guilty - hangover.) Yes, it's just Corporate that United dicks with the emotions of its zealots, but it pissed me off, I loved it! I loved it. Hate: the reason I don't believe in apostasies as much I claim to have them. Transferring hate from one object to another doesn't dissipate the hate, it redirects it. Consider my anger at Democrats and professional Liberals, it's the same hate I happily stoked for decades at Republicans and professional Conservatives. Silly stupid pointless hate. I love it. Love love love hate. Time for this extrapolation reduction formula: Fine metaphors abound. Time for this extrapolation reduction formula: Fuck me. Time for this Delgados song again:
- So, I'm not going tonight.
- STREAM A BOATLOAD OF SUNNO)))!
- While you gloat about Snowden, the FBI is watching you.
- NSA on the brain.
- The Wall Street Jounral trolls the internet.
- How not to spend your summer vacation.
- Memory is a word.
- May's scifi short stories review.
- Pynchon, philosophy, ethics.
- The reviewer's obligation.
- There's a new Sun Kil Moon EP. Does it matter is Kozelek is an asshole?
I hate how this unsummoned sigh-sound, sob-sound,
not sound really, feeling, sigh-feeling, sob-feeling,
keeps rising in me, rasping in me, not in its old disguise
as nostalgia, sweet crazed call of the blackbird;
not as remembrance, grief for so many gone,
nor either that other tangle of recall, regret
for unredeemed wrongs, errors, omissions,
petrified roots too deep to ever excise;
a mingling rather, a melding, inextricable mesh
of delight in astonishing being, of being in being,
with a fear of and fear for I can barely think what,
not non-existence, of self, loved ones, love;
not even war, fuck war, sighing for war,
sobbing for war, for no war, peace, surcease;
more than all that, some ground-sound, ground-note,
sown in us now, that swells in us, all of us,
echo of love we had, have, for world, for our world,
on which we seem finally mere swarm, mere deluge,
mere matter self-altered to tumult, to noise,
cacophonous blitz of destruction, despoilment,
din from which every emotion henceforth emerges,
and into which falters, slides, sinks, and subsides:
sigh-sound of lament, of remorse; sob-sound of rue,
of, still, always, ever sadder and sadder sad joy.