- Stolen - both the vid and the bleggalweariness app - from ZRM.
- Police and Occupy.
- The Villagers of Fuckface Hiatt's YFWP op-ed page dance on the grave of the Newtster once, twice, three times.
- Under the eye of the imperial panopticon.
- Why Afghans can't tie their shoes. Adding, no one seems to mention that American occupation of Afghanistan has as much to do with what country directly west of Afghanistan can be bombed from American air bases in Afghanistan as anything else.
- The American occupation of Okinawa.
- Jive talking.
- I finished this instead of writing today's bleg lede:
- Against JSTOR.
- Retail outlet.
- McCarthy, for those of you who do.
- Sebald, for those of you who do.
- The last (faxed) poem of Bukowski.
- Beckett, for those of you who do.
- The vault and arch of landscape.
- Absolutely horrifying and horrible news.
- Glass is 75 today.
This trace, if it exists, is alms for delusion.
An arch uncurls from the floor
scented with the scent of a tapestry, housed here.
I recall the hour but not its passage
unless dream captures and ties it to sleep:
a fat bellhop smiles, shows me to the tower
where I can watch the departure.
But some days settle so that nothing
crosses the horizon; stare as I will, no star
needles the air. Now I am left
on the outskirts of a forest hemmed in by wheat
where plump trees hide the image, its symmetry
shot up and blown across the ground like feathers.
The unicorn, the grail, blue and red wings
of kneeling musicians, these are embroidered
elsewhere. Perseverance was crowned.
Hope and Pity prayed for success.
How fast is this camera? Can it record a trace?
There was a voyage. Four mounted horses
strain against centuries.
To each is allotted: dust kicked up, smoke, plumage.
Or maybe even if you don't: just heard BBC film critic Mark Kermode rave over "Patience After Sebald" after confessing he's never read a word of Sebald.ReplyDelete
The basic problem is that while I still enjoy blogging, I'm truly tired of Hey! Look! Obama sucks and motherfucking crackers on multiple levels, hence the weekend vacation.ReplyDelete
Birds and in a few months, butterflies.
Thanks for the linked article on JSTOR. True. Funny, in, y'know, an utterly malicious way that makes me giggle even harder. True fact: it costs way less for a government library than for an academic one.ReplyDelete
Thanks for the lonk-love, BDR.ReplyDelete
I saw Glass perform about 15 years ago in Gainesville, FL. A man in a suit and tie got up from his chair during the performance and went to the front, near the stage (this was in a small amphitheater that is part of an art museum) and began yelling, "People, people! This is NOT music! This is NOT art! You're all begin duped!"ReplyDelete
It's probably my favorite memory of a live musical performance ever.
(Oh, and the performance was great).
Don't get the accusation part. People, anonymous ones at that, are constantly accusing you of something or other. Usually I don't know what. Now, don't get me wrong: I'm not accusing you of being paranoid or even overly sensitive to feigned attack or even insult. And, hey, maybe it's all a part of the Kayfabe—kinda' like Superpac non-co-ordination—hereabouts. In the hedgehogs and foxes binary, that probably makes you a bustle in in the hedgerow. Not that there's anything wrong with that, or anything to get hung about. So. Yeah.ReplyDelete
Jack White, heh!
Heh! It's been fascinating getting friendly grief from friends analog and digital (and *me* analog and digital) whose opinions I value for not being as angrily partisan, as in as viscerally outraged constantly by crackers, like I used to be, it's like, you're inconsistent, and I'm like, Yes, exactly, thank you, though I'm using that in this case as a metaphor for all self-reevaluations and scourgings I'm thoroughly enjoying.ReplyDelete
And stop posting Def Leopard allusions!