Two colleagues I didn't know were Hillaryite each offered me a measure of sympathy that Bernie Sanders is dead dead dead dammit just admit he's dead. I am not a Sanders fan or voter - I had the chance to vote for him in Maryland and did not, I said. The support I have for Sanders is the kayfabed fan's towards the best professional jobber on circuit who valiantly fights until the heel cheats for advantage before executing his signature move on the jobber BOOM! one two three. Year after year. S.D. Jones, Brooklyn Brawler. What, said one. (Another HC) warned me about this, said the other. Bernie knew he had no chance but sold the story line and perhaps a new generation of rubes not yet kayfabe can enjoy the mark's illusion that progressive change is possible in the Empire - I envy them, the dopes. Is this going to be in your blog, said one. Is this going to be in your blog, said another.
- They both gave me permission.
- Sanders' moment of truth? Jobber? asked one HC. He works for The Syndicate, I said. If he goes independent and naders Clinton I'll give him $5. HC said, Trump Trump Trump Trump.
- We are the happiest in the world.
- Anthem for bummed youth.
- Political parties and black holes.
- The Hillary Conundrum. Duh, but a good compilation of the Duh.
- Politics and animals.
- Earthgirl and I are going to Maine in August, we're gonna climb Katahdin and all kind of woods, one of the books I have in paper or in device will be by William Gass.
- So yes, Butler's recent birthday had me digging out my Furs, found my Love Spit Love too.
Perhaps I’m a cruel artist. I always depict
In great details, lovingly, all the defects
On the faces and bodies of my models.
I use my eyes and brushes to thread
The jagged gaps of their stiff smiles. I pamper
Each pimple, hump, massage each incrustation.
I cajole my models into poses that are awkward,
Dangerous, unhygienic, sometimes mortifying.
I don’t care to paint smooth, poreless skin but collect
All manners of rashes and eruptions. Inspired,
I’ve forced a hundred bodies—impossibly old,
Extremely young—onto appalling heaps,
Democratically naked, viscous with sweat, spit and etc.,
Just so I could render the human condition
Most accurately and movingly.