Which Was Perhaps Immodest of Whoever I Am

CWCF I am, it may be my imagination but it feels like the burners under the rube soup have been turned down from a rolling boil to a ready simmer in the past week. Everything's quieter. Look at the sleeping blogrolls. Maybe it's exhaustion only, a catching of breath, resting the rubes before the also resting keepers begin boiling the rubes again in reaction to what the keepers can't control, boiling the rubes to try and control the rube-response best they can.

Yes, the weekly (not) paradigm-shifting OMFG! skipped this week, but is it me or has Corporate (in its own loosely coordinated and incompetently executed way) tamped the brakes on 24-7 rube-boiling, if only to catch its own breath and reorient before deciding (in its own loosely coordinated and incompetently executed way) how best next to raid grandma's kitchen pantry for ingredients for rube soup?

The simmering weirds me out. How strange to live in a world where a reduction in my boiling causes anxiety by an ominous calming of my happily agitated molecules.

• Greenwald and Silber on Drum. It's entirely possible to have faith in the judgment of Obama the politician while having zero faith in the judgment of Obama the moral agent.
• I hate motherfucking christers. Hate. I'm small this way.
• How much is too much. Yes, posted before, but put before my eyes again so put before yours again.
• Eternal punishment.
• What makes these people tick.
• The news from Japan.
• Tony Morrison could do that thing with her mouth.
• The most important thing about Libya is not in Libya.
• The perils of moralism.
• All war all the time.
• Someone wants a fatwa.
• New American Ghost Towns includes Oh So Shitty Maryland. 
• Bleggalgazing. There's a lot of that going on too.
• Speaking of blogrolls, there are a few new additions. Look.

• Les Murray.
• Burning man, part five.
• Spend three hours in the 60s?
• A sunset song.
• Cosmic cars.
• Theoretical girls.
• Gossip.
• Richard Thompson is 62 today.

FAME

Les Murray

We were at dinner in Soho
and the couple at the next table
rose to go. The woman paused to say
to me, I just wanted you to know
I have got all your cookbooks
and I swear by them!

I managed to answer her, Ma’am
they’ve done you nothing but good!
Which was perhaps immodest
of whoever I am.