If He Rests It’s to Wind the Metronome or Sip His Cup of Ice . . .

• Contest! Make a verb out of Katehi.
• Woman gets jail for food stamp fraud, banksters get.....
• Of course it is....
• The memo....
• PERF.
• Metaphor.
• UPDATE! Ambrose Bierce on Occupy.
• Metaphor. 
• UPDATE! (h/t)

• UPDATE! On the above.
• Metaphor. 
• Strategy.
• Does America need Wall Street?
• Also, motherfucking crackers. 
• Radio silence. Good luck, friend.
• Fear. 
• Today in futility: taking for granted the YFWP ombudsman Patrick Pexton is a motherfucking coward, is he more a motherfucking jackass than motherfucking fool or motherfucking visa versa?
  

This is the slowest week of the year in Blegsylvania, I'm picking up my daughter at BWI this evening and have plans most nights this week and all day and night this coming weekend, which isn't why I'm incapable of forming a half-coherent paragraph on my thoughts regarding Occupy's meanings, re: my full support for it v my half-assed participation in it. Perhaps the slowest week of the year in Blegsylvania is the time to post inchoate thoughts, though busy weeks in Blegsylvania have never been an impediment to such practice. In any case, I've watched this dozens of times in the past week, this is now BLCKDGRD - Theme Song 4:






INTROIT AND FUGUE

D. Nurkse

After death, my father   

practices meticulously   

until the Bach is seamless,   

spun glass in a dream,   

you can no longer tell   

where the modulations are,   

or the pedal shifts

or the split fingerings . . .

if he rests

it’s to wind the metronome   

or sip his cup of ice . . .

but who is the other old man   

in the identical flannel gown,   

head cocked, listening

ever more critically,

deeper in the empty room?