I didn't pursue beyond saying that it's not the training to be mean but the training to be kind that is used to keep us leashed best. Is that why you capitalize the word Kind on your blog, asked Leona. Excellent wry and amber three hours.
- Torture and stupidity.
- What I said yesterday said better.
- On propaganda.
- The view from Scotland.
- On the shaky prospects of meritocracy.
- National pride.
- Raw thoughts.
- Social media and the future of poetry.
- This week's new releases.
- Agalloch. It says something about these days that I wait all week for the death metal sets on Diane's Kamakazi Fun Machine.
- UPDATE! Holyfuck, wanna drive up your hits? Make a link with the name of the band in the above bullet point and watch google spin.
While you walk the water's edge, turning over concepts I can't envision, the honking buoy serves notice that at any time the wind may change, the reef-bell clatters its treble monotone, deaf as Cassandra to any note but warning. The ocean, cumbered by no business more urgent than keeping open old accounts that never balanced, goes on shuffling its millenniums of quartz, granite, and basalt. It behaves toward the permutations of novelty-- driftwood and shipwreck, last night's beer cans, spilt oil, the coughed-up residue of plastic--with random impartiality, playing catch or tag or touch-last like a terrier, turning the same thing over and over, over and over. For the ocean, nothing is beneath consideration. The houses of so many mussels and periwinkles have been abandoned here, it's hopeless to know which to salvage. Instead I keep a lookout for beach glass-- amber of Budweiser, chrysoprase of Almadén and Gallo, lapis by way of (no getting around it, I'm afraid) Phillips' Milk of Magnesia, with now and then a rare translucent turquoise or blurred amethyst of no known origin. The process goes on forever: they came from sand, they go back to gravel, along with treasuries of Murano, the buttressed astonishments of Chartres, which even now are readying for being turned over and over as gravely and gradually as an intellect engaged in the hazardous redefinition of structures no one has yet looked at.
Hot damn, this really captures truth:ReplyDelete
"...it's not the training to be mean but the training to be kind that is used to keep us leashed best."
Have I remit to quote?
Agalloch. It says something about these days that I wait all week for the death metal sets on Diane's Kamakazi Fun Machine.ReplyDelete
You're only encouraging him!
Excellent Clean Day! Vehicle is one of my all-time favorite albums. And echoing Jim yesterday... also The Bats.ReplyDelete
The Clean is another band I just never got around to spending time with but that's good stuff. Curse ye, death metal. & thanks!ReplyDelete