You Are a Universe Beyond My Mitochondria

• All four of my semi-annual Please Confirm Continuing Existence emails I emailed out a week ago last night have gone unanswered. 1 of 4 hasn't answered in three years, 2 of 4 hasn't in two, 3 of 4 hasn't in eighteen months, 4 of 4 hasn't in a year. It's time I cull the blogrolls of the moribund (of which there are more and more), those who haven't posted in at least four months: I move the slumbering if probably dead to Moribund so I notice if they stir. In real life..... loved ones are OK, but they've moved, are moving, are busy to the point of disappearance. I'm as guilty as any, more. Your mileage may vary (if you even drive), but I'm happier with my writing as I've been in a long time, the sad (in this case) and Dark (in general) good fertilizer. Is fucked. Fuck me.
• Keats, fires, droughts, motherfucking humans.
• The Soft Fascism of America.
• Um, unpack this if you want. I'm trying not to.
• Badiou, for those of you who do.
• Mumpsimus expands beyond Mumpsimus.
• David Markson, for those of you who do.
• Tying things together: Sorrentino, for those of you who do.
• So I'm halfway through DeLillo's Players, halfway through his Cosmopolis. I think I've said this before: reading dialogue in DeLillo is like hearing the dialogue on Gilmore Girls (when I'd hear it while trying to read in another room while Earthgirl and Planet - who has moved to Michigan - watched reruns), everyone is so fucking witty with dripping irony (I'm as guilty of that as any, more). Still, it seems to be working of a sorts. A project perhaps worthwhile (UPDATE!: strike-thru) that I will never undertake: take every DeLillo novel, divide it into twelve, then read section one of each novel then section two etc as if they are all one big novel. Cause they are.
• UPDATE! Thank fucking Baal I used the Library's pencil underlined and highlighted copies rather than investing in new books, this is not going to end well by which I think it may be ending soon, by which I mean it's ended. It IS a fucking episode of Gilmore Girls. I get why I once got and get why I don't now.
• Woke up this morning with Bardo Pond's cover of Eno's Warm Jets, yay me!

ANY LIT

Harryette Mullen

You are a ukulele beyond my microphone

You are a Yukon beyond my Micronesia

You are a union beyond my meiosis

You are a unicycle beyond my migration

You are a universe beyond my mitochondria

You are a Eucharist beyond my Miles Davis

You are a euphony beyond my myocardiogram

You are a unicorn beyond my Minotaur

You are a eureka beyond my maitai

You are a Yuletide beyond my minesweeper

You are a euphemism beyond my myna bird

You are a unit beyond my mileage

You are a Yugoslavia beyond my mind’s eye

You are a yoo-hoo beyond my minor key

You are a Euripides beyond my mime troupe

You are a Utah beyond my microcosm

You are a Uranus beyond my Miami

You are a youth beyond my mylar

You are a euphoria beyond my myalgia

You are a Ukranian beyond my Maimonides

You are a Euclid beyond my miter box

You are a Univac beyond my minus sign

You are a Eurydice beyond my maestro

You are a eugenics beyond my Mayan

You are a U-boat beyond my mind control

You are a euthanasia beyond my miasma

You are a urethra beyond my Mysore

You are a Euterpe beyond my Mighty Sparrow

You are a ubiquity beyond my minority

You are a eunuch beyond my migraine

You are a Eurodollar beyond my miserliness

You are a urinal beyond my Midol

You are a uselessness beyond my myopia