This Is Regret: Or a Ferret

So I liked the music (and the headers), anyway. I've always wanted music to play when the blog is accessed, and, in combination with a sudden and liberating inability to write about POTUS 12 and motherfucking Democrats and motherfucking Republicans and motherfucking pwoggles and motherfucking crackers and especially about who can and can't criticize motherfucking Israel in run-up to Uncle attacking Iran, when I discovered the play-automatically function at soundcloud I decided to wtf the weekend here and enjoyed myself thoroughly. There are logistical issues - I do still love most of you, so I'll not detail them here - though auto-music will return occasionally. There were major bleggal issues raised, and while I do still love most of you, I can only promise not to luxuriate on them here on a one-day-at-a-time basis.

• Seymour on Zizek on Marx on salaried bourgeoisie.
• Reflections on the current disorder.
• Because policing the discourse is punk rock.
• NYT beats the the war drums. Yes, posted last week when NYT published it the first time. They liked it so much they printed it twice. Jesusfuck, this is going to be the shittiest year since the last shittiest year until the next shittiest year in which Israel's involved in a war.
• Democracy in action.
• Oakland revisited.
• Motherfucking Republicans.
• The Obama Memos. I confess, I haven't made myself read it in full.
• Authoritarian followship.
• A thing barely noticed.
• The Amazing Willard Romney, Issue One!
• Pied Cow Motorcycle Club. I'd ask to join, but I've never driven a motorcycle.
• If anyone was playing here this past weekend and encountered any technical problems with the auto-play, please let me know. 
• United tied first preseason game. I'm not ready for my first preseason Baal-taunting yet.
• Gaddis on his character, JR.
• Shut up shut up shut up shut up.
• Mercury Rising.
• Nick Cave covers Leonard Cohen.
• Destroy, she said.
• Where are the prawns?
• So far to fall.
• Someone twittered about late Roxy, so in my head. All Roxy in short rotation for remaining two of five on island. God, I love this song, must be one of my 20 most air-guitared. Ditto the second song.

TURN OF A YEAR

Joan Houlihan

This is regret: or a ferret. Snuffling
stunted, a snout full of snow.

As the end of the day shuffles down
the repentant scurry and swarm -

an unstable contrition is born.
Bend down, look into the lair.

Where newborn pieties spark and strike
I will make my peace as a low bulb

burnt into a dent of snow. A cloth to keep me
from seeping. Light crumpled over a hole.

Why does the maker keep me awake?
He must want my oddments, their glow.