Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Now We Are Used and Use in Turn Each Other

My apostasy works back in only one direction: just because my disgust and anger at motherfucking Democrats makes me loathe them more daily, that doesn't raise my esteem for motherfucking Republicans. I am small this way.

Last night was last Thursday's pint night. I proposed yesterday's thought experiment. I said, for argument's sake, we agree that management of both Corporate's legacy divisions are 100% on board re: strategy re: stiffing the middle class, re: perpetual war and empire, and we agree their flinging ethical herrings roobs like me gurp like Good and Plenty are diversionary tactics in the battle of which division gets to run the spigot, and we agree that the state of American empire's decline will be .06% + or - in 2016 regardless who wins POTUS in 2012, but if we also agree that if Republicans win POTUS and House and Senate and governorships and state houses ethical herrings like women's reproductive rights and gay rights etc will be rolled back decades, does that justify hating motherfucking Republicans and crackers more than motherfucking Democrats and complicit motherfucking pwoggles like me?

I'd hate you either way, said Leona. She won a scotch of ridiculous price.


Mary Joe Bang

Now we sit and play with a tiny toy
elephant that travels a taut string.
Now we are used and use in turn
each other. Our hats unravel
and that in itself is tragic.
To be lost. To have lost. Verbs

like veritable engines pulling the train
of thought forward. The hat is over-
turned and out comes a rabbit. Out comes a man
with a monocle. Out comes a Kaiser.
Yikes, it's history, that ceiling
comprised of recessed squares, each leg a lifeline,

each lie a wife's leg. A pulled velvet cord
rings a bell and everyone comes running
to watch while a year plummets
into the countdown of an open mouth. A loop of razor wire
closes around the circumference of a shaken globe
of snow. Yellowed newsprint with its watery text,

a latticework of shadow thrown
onto the clear screen of the prison wall.
From a mere idea comes the twine
that gives totality its name. What is a theory
but a tentacle reaching for a wafer of reason.
The inevitable gap tragic. Sure, tragic.


  1. One can have "integrity" and shitty taste in music, no? (I'm assuming Krugman isn't being paid to shill for that band who shall remain nameless.)

  2. Heh, it was a cheap shot; it would have violated my personal code of blegethics not to take it. I'm small this way too.

  3. It must be nice to have the washington post as a personal spooge messenger.

  4. Yah, I wonder how that worked. Puny has always claimed YFWP gave unfair treatment to his dumbass helmetball team in general and Puny in particular. Maybe figured he could play off that PLUS give YFWP a chance to rip City Paper.

    Look for Freddie Hiatt in the owner's box next season.

  5. Hilarious Krugman pick!

    I'm not so sure the American "empire" shouldn't decline. Maybe, in the process, learn a few of those everything-I-know-I-learned-in-kindergarten-type cliche lessons; to wit: play well with others, share, don't be a bully, don't be an asshole, etc.

    Azaleas started dropping off the shrubs here the last couple weeks.

    For me, Diane is either hit or miss.