I read the debates yesterday on whether feeding hungry children increases test scores or not. Anti-feeding the hungry on public dime say no, feeding the hungry on public dime say yes, there's evidence, REAMS AND REAMS OF EVIDENCE PROVING FED CHILDREN LEARN BETTER, and of course, those who'd feed the hungry on public dime are right, as scientifically right as those who say the better you feed the cow you'll slaughter the better the meat.
Some said, though none wearing tribal colors that I read, even if there wasn't solid science proving fed children learn better - say there were studies proving that fed children learn no differently than hungry children: in a just society there are no hungry children.
- Davidly made that for me. Believe it or not, I'm trying not to be at the top of everyone's blegrell every day, though mostly selfishly - I don't want to mine the aargh daily, am fighting the jones.
- Has one major Democrat said, Federal funding for Meals on Wheels per year costs less than one Donald Trump Air Force One weekend trip to his castle in Florida?
- Democrats would rather bark at Russia - psst: won't work.
- Reminder: Democrats hate Sanders more than they hate Trump.
- Reminder, Jeff: fuck me. I'm 24-7 Olive and her pipe-cleaner toy.
- Down the rabbit hole.
- Professor Tarzie If You're Nasty.
- Bumping again: The Revolution Will Not Be Curated.
- Reminder: The Revolution Will Not Be Televised.
- Donald Barthelme's 81 books to read for a literary education.
- Muriel Rukeyser: a short primer. Lots of her poems here.
- Jason Molina died four years ago yesterday. Here's this blog's RIP cascade.
- Which made me think of Sparklehorse.
BY THE RIVER BAAB
We know that somewhere far north of here
the two rivers Ba and Ab converge to form
this greater stream that sustains us, uniting
the lifeblood length of our lands: and we believe
that the Ba's source is heaven, the Ab's hell.
Daily expeditions embark upcountry to find
that fork, to learn where the merge first occurs.
Too far: none of our explorers return. Or
else when they reach that point they themselves
are torn apart by a sudden urge to choose—
to resolutely take either the Ba/the Ab, and trace
good or evil to its spring. Each flips a coin
perhaps, or favors whichever one the wind's
blowing from at that moment. Down here
even we who have not the heart to venture
anywhere that would force us to such deep
decisions, even we, when we hold that glass of
water in our hand, drink it slowly, deliberately,
as if we could taste the two strains, could somehow
distinguish their twin flow through our veins.