But think why Obamaxelrod lifted the moratorium of deepwater oil drilling yesterday when they didn't have to until after the election, have a knee to the nuts, eco-progressives, and you know what? Axelrod may be right: having followed corporate mandate and disabused America's Left that America will ever move Left again, corporate will rein in the hyenas (though not as easily as they think they can) post-election. Obama has done his job. There is a center-right model of middle-American consumer-citizens corporate likes; corporate thinks there's 20 more years of coal in that middle-American center-right consumer-citizen, needs to keep you and me breathing until we motherfuckers can be top-mined for scrap.
- UPDATE! On corporate and the Right's hyenas.
- Enemies list.
- Sweet denial.
- Malaise, with no end in sight.
- Clusterfuck nation.
- Punch a strawman.
- The cop.
- UPDATE! Not gender identities but class distinctions.
- Ruth Marcus isn't as mendacious as the other YFWP columnists, but she is the stupidest.
- The education of Pam Geller.
- Paladino: I'm very sorry I called you the disgusting fudge-packers and carpet-munchers you are.
- UPDATE! Did Paladino open for the Butthole Surfers?
- Have more catnip: Every November, all five of The Dobbs Group’s show-jumping horses must be transported from their summer stables in Vermont to their winter stables in Wellington, Florida. The workers are transported to the tropics too, returning to New England with the horses in April. They ride in trucks each way alongside their expensive equestrian charges, tending to the horses’ needs throughout the thirty-two-hour journey. Their return to Vermont marks the start of a new annual circuit of horse shows—an exhausting schedule during the spring, summer and fall months that entails constant travel between their Vermont base and horse shows around the country. At these shows, it is not unusual for the grooms who care for Dobbs’s horses to rise in the middle of the night or in the predawn hours to clean, brush and prepare the horses for a training session or early morning competition. For years, undocumented immigrants from Mexico have been relied upon to meet these labor demands.
- State of the Kitty Address.
- UPDATE! Leggett's priorities. Why not raise the property tax on the motherfucking mcmansionists?
- Yesterday's abandonment of a Euro Cup Qualifier in Genoa between Italy and Serbia because of Serbian hooligans reminded me of when Elric (whose father is a Serbian) was stationed in Belgrade within the past two years and was strongly recommended to stay away from any bar where Serbian soccer fans drank much less attend matches. Elric, send me the links from your archives, please.
- UPDATE! Elric in comments: A couple of Ultras saw me buy a Partizan scarf in a gift shop one evening and came after me, and I had to run a couple of blocks - fortunately there was a tram that I could jump in. By the time I got on the tram there were about a dozen of them chasing me. It went the wrong way and I got lost, but I eventually got back to my hotel. It could just as easily have been a Red Star scarf, but that was what they were selling that day. There's more. Go look.
- Funny old Booker. I have the Jacobson on my desk. It keeps Hey Sailoring me, and I pick it up and then put it down. It's not so much I don't want to read it, it's that other books keep butting in front of the line.
- UPDATE! Why the Booker is cool, or: Brits are different.
- On C, part four.
- Who cares if you read?
- Bad music, worse politics.
- UPDATE! This week's new releases w/MP3.
- Try it before you buy it.
- UPDATE! A review of the new place. I like the overlapping photos - and other than agreeing on the correct color of our soccer team's kit, we've never agreed on colors. And holyfuck, look at that dinosaur below.
THE CITY LIMITS
When you consider the radiance, that it does not withhold itself but pours its abundance without selection into every nook and cranny not overhung or hidden; when you consider that birds' bones make no awful noise against the light but lie low in the light as in a high testimony; when you consider the radiance, that it will look into the guiltiest swervings of the weaving heart and bear itself upon them, not flinching into disguise or darkening; when you consider the abundance of such resource as illuminates the glow-blue bodies and gold-skeined wings of flies swarming the dumped guts of a natural slaughter or the coil of shit and in no way winces from its storms of generosity; when you consider that air or vacuum, snow or shale, squid or wolf, rose or lichen, each is accepted into as much light as it will take, then the heart moves roomier, the man stands and looks about, the
leaf does not increase itself above the grass, and the dark work of the deepest cells is of a tune with May bushes and fear lit by the breadth of such calmly turns to praise.
Born 55 years ago yesterday:
Born 69 years ago today:
I love some Simon and Garfunkel songs, I like some Simon solo stuff, though he's written jackshit since Graceland.
And remember when Simon and George played together on SNL?