Wednesday, February 1, 2012

The Combination of Rain and Sunshine Always Finds Me Defeated, and Then Other Causes Come Along, Seeking Attribution

While I recognize now and turned cutter in response to how my rube has been manipulated with my gleeful consent by American tribalism in the service of capital for the past four decades, and while I accept that any suit elevated to POTUS serves at capital's and nothing but capital's behest, still:




Motherfucking crackers. I didn't say it would be easy, much less possible, to rid myself of the joy! of hating motherfucking crackers even if I accept the kayfabe that my hating motherfucking crackers works directly against my interest in pissing off motherfucking capital. Here's kayfabe: my effort at rejecting the insidious charade of tribalism while moving towards a more universal kind, at this early stage, involves me hating my old team more, not hating the other team less.










THE BICAMERAL EYEBALL

John Ashbery

No one noticed that it was midnight out.
The tools to make the tools were forthcoming.
It wasn’t so much that we were afraid of farting
as that other thieves had gotten wind of his maladdress.
She was startling in her new headdress.
Oodles of trolls performed the funeral litany—
hey, it wasn’t their turn at the foc’sle, so why
be perturbed ahead of time, and too late? The factory
whistle blew and released all the workers inside
who came crowding down along the pavement.

As though walking on stilts people blew up in amazement
like pieces of trash a wind desultorily lifts,
then returns for no visible reason. We were all tired
and happy, plodders on life’s great thoroughfare.
None of us were in it for the long haul, but paradoxically
all of us were, we just didn’t know it yet. But when I
looked over at her I could see why they meant sadness,
not from any bereavement, but growing like a stem
in otherwise barren ground. Oh, sure, there was plenty of majolica
on buffets in those days, chafing dishes with lids
to be lifted and then put back again. There were mild
pools in the woods far from any stream, and ant-size
buggies patrolling the slopes. Good thing for you
it was too. That they were there. Or just on the threshold
of being, like a dream. I told you not to be a gnat
about things, that sooner or later worrying would grow up
to become part of experience. It was just that you
seemed to believe me when I wasn’t being especially serious.

That, and the tens of revolutions to come. I say,
shall we go inside? The combination of rain and sunshine
always finds me defeated, and then other causes come along,
seeking attribution. Meanwhile if he matriculates
in one to ten years, who’s to say I’m not stodgy either?
It was all we could do, her and I, to keep from laughing
at his strife. Meanwhile the fire burned bright.
The maids grew petulant.
But I don’t care, really, none of us could
as long as time brings up the rear, placing a napkin,
folded just so, over the era and whatever it
thought it was up to. Now, doesn’t that make a lot of sense?

6 comments:

  1. I wish this tribalism was more like the tribalism gleefully tossed about in ye olde schule-chylde textbooks, i.e. dums and goopers literally clubbing each other on the skull, with clubs, literally. Sure, their replacements would suck with equal ferocity, but hey, entertainment.

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  2. Honestly, the best anti-Komen rant came from a man? Really? How about Amanda Marcotte's? Or any of thousands others?

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  3. Not saying it was the best of the best, I saw Ed's, he's a blogbud, I gave him a link. If there are some you want me to send eyes too (I'll look for the Marcotte and post it), please send them to me or post them at your place and I'll link.

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  4. On Matt Taibbi's hopey-changy bad hair day.

    Thanks, I rate it link of the day.
    ~

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  5. Isn't it about the time of year for me to claim that Billy Zoom is dead?

    Also: many days, it's nice to have a penis. Today isn't one of them. Internalize this and routinize accordingly. Friendly advice, YMMV.

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  6. Honestly a man has an opinion about Komen? Really? How DARE you! Only women are allowed to write about Komen! Why don't you castrate the motherfucker instead of linking to him? I'm never reading this site again!

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