Thursday, June 16, 2011

We Gave Our Dogs a Button to Sniff, or a Tissue, and They Bounded Off Confident in Their Training, in the Power of their Senses to Re-Create the Body

Thursday Night Pints was last night at my request: tomorrow we leave for England, I need tonight free in case because. Serendipitous: K (whom you've met) and special guest 2nd K, Moskovy-era Russian historian and good guy and soon to be obamapostate joined us, which they wouldn't have tonight.

Debate ensued. I said (I say this all the time here, forgive me), Obama's a motherfucking pig who believes and is invested in Corporate's crescendo to clusterfuck's clustergasm or he's a motherfucking cog, a bigger motherfucking cog than motherfucking you and me (and is fully interested in maintaining that hierarchy, you don't doubt that, do you?), but still a motherfucking cog or he's the moral agent you would have him be and doing the best possible honorable job he can within the parameters he can control: which is the worse scenario?

Well, it's not one or the other, 2nd K said, and I said sure, death to the either/or, that's granted, but you'd never vote for the first and why would you vote for the second? .06% less shitty debate ensued. K asked me how's blogging. I got a motherfucking email last week saying it's a shame I curse so motherfucking much, but other than that it's the motherfucking same every motherfucking day.


D. Nurkse

We gave our dogs a button to sniff,
or a tissue, and they bounded off
confident in their training,
in the power of their senses
to re-create the body,

but after eighteen hours in rubble
where even steel was pulverized
they curled on themselves
and stared up at us
and in their soft huge eyes
we saw mirrored the longing for death:

then we had to beg a stranger
to be a victim and crouch
behind a girder, and let the dogs
discover him and tug him
proudly, with suppressed yaps,
back to Command and the rows
of empty triage tables.

But who will hide from us?
Who will keep digging for us
here in the cloud of ashes?


  1. d'ya have to use s'many dang cuss words?

  2. Thanks, but heh! the complications have already started. The twins weren't going to fly back with us but meet their grandmother in London at the end of the tour. Last night she fell and broke her ankle and can't get to London. As I type this, the twins don't have a flight home. Jeebus.

  3. Goats link is actually Molly's lips. Good rickroll though.

  4. I can't vouch for the translations, but recommend these novels, available here in English:

    This collection includes The Goalie's Anxiety at the Penalty Kick, which you might know from his adaptation with Wim Wenders for the film.

  5. Effin' Lil' Danny.

    All that money vacuumed up and wasted by the Giant Ego.

  6. If only we had a bunch of rare books here so I could sneak 'em out.

    Hope your trip's full of non-lunacy especially since they don't speak American, outside of swearing, I'm sure.

  7. I just wish you'd stop all the motherfucking cursing at this piece-of-shit, slit-tailed cunt of a blog. God damn it, it's what keeps me from coming back and reading all the piss fart cocksucking bullshit you excrete into the toilet bowl of the internet every single fucking day. Asshole cock. Pussy. Oh yeah, it puts me off from commenting, too. Balls.

    Hey! On another score, I hope you have a great vacay. Sorry about the twins. Hope they can get it worked out. What's your blog plan? Going black for a week? Blogging when you can?

    I quibble w/ .06%. On a given day or week, sure. But over time, footfall after footfall, step upon step, building upon accomplishments, more can be effected than you are willing to credit. His highness, the dauphin, certainly ruined much more than .06% in his eight interminable years. Re-building is, as anyone knows (ask Fukushima, Kansas, Alabama, New Orleans), infinitesimal in esse. Shiva is a dynamo.

  8. I, too, quibble w/ .06%. For much the same. Also because the right keeps getting moreso.

  9. Oh, shit, I forgot to say how bad all the motherfucking swearing is.

  10. And it's Bloomsday. And they're tweeting Ulysses.*snicker*

  11. Y'know...people who seriously focus on other peoples' choice of descriptive language, who give even a second's thought to whether words are obscene or dirty or whatever are, in the actual medical sense of the phrase, mentally retarded. Grow the fuck up, you prudish shitstains. And I do hope my use of the words "fuck" and "shit" causes you physical pain.

  12. I think the person's intent was to suggest that I'm costing myself links and blogrolls from people who would otherwise because of the language. The old "people would like you better if you weren't such a foul-mouthed asshole." Fuck it.

    The trouble with the .06% theory is that when the Republics move towards the more shitty, the Democrats move with them. The Democrats are more than happy to keep the .06% distinction. In theory, in our history of the country since the inauguration of GWB, if the Republicans have moved as hard pig as we think they have then Democrats should be at least 10% less shitty. We're being tag-teamed, yo.

  13. I understand the trouble with the .06% theory. On reflection driving home I realized that what I really object to is that folks keep laying that on the individuals instead of the system. Look, I'll crawl on my elbows to vote for Obama over Bachmann any day of the week.

    The problem is a system that brings is a two party system and an electoral college. That's why both parties always move in unison with half an inch between them. (It is also why I despise Mr. Clinton (recognizing fully that Landru has another possibly valid theory).) The system that allows them to all be corporatists is what encourages them to tag-team us.

    But we can't get out of it by being cynical and pissy -- and as an aside, limiting ones vocabulary because Princess Prude might not link is amazingly silly. Why not write all posts in haiku because you might get a link that way? -- but can only hope for any movement by attacking/working on/reforming the system as a whole. And if you want your grandchildren (Yeah, I said it.) to have a place to inherit, you have to do that instead of just claiming it all hopeless.

    Damn, soapbox off. Sorry.

  14. Ooh! Ooh! This is where I chime in and point out that Sasha has never forgiven Willy Bubba for giving her herpes.

    As for you, Sir, yeah, I get the intent. I've received that comment myself, and from someone who knows better. As you acknowlege, why the fuck would you care about whether you're adequately read among the clinically mentally retarded? I mean, the fucktarded, that's another matter entirely, and we're happy to be here.