Friday, April 13, 2012

I Used to Lie with an Ear to the Line for That Way, They Said, There Should Come a Sound Escaping Ahead, and Iron Tune of Flange and Piston Pitched Along the Ground, but I Never Heard That

I just tweeted about the shitstorm while waiting for you, I said as we were sitting down to Thursday Night Pints and the shitstorm was quickly mentioned. I tweeted, I continued, I'm curious, I wonder how much immediate and long-term money and influence Hilary Rosen, in the penthouse boardrooms of Corporate - Dem Division, just flushed in that thirty-second soundbite. This is the stupidest shitstorm yet, said K. Till tomorrow, said L. I said, I have to imagine Rosen will be muzzled and dog-housed once her Ozzie Guillen self-flaying is complete, at least two weeks or six more shitstorms, whichever comes first. Imagine, said K, think how pissed-off Obama's camp must be, how pissed off he is, she fucked-up Obama's winning game-plan now no matter how inconsequential and temporary it probably turns out to be. L said, I'd guess Rosen loses the time and money it takes Obama's camp to gain back the advantage they had before Rosen opened her mouth, time and money permanently lost. My guess, I said, is she'll still be more wildly wealthy and influential than she is right now after opening her mouth last night but she'll never be as wealthy and influential as she might have been before opening her mouth last night. Has anyone responded to your tweet, K asked. It took me two minutes to set the new iPhone up for wifi in the bar, everyone's told me, always use wifi instead of 3G whenever possible (or is it always use 3G before wifi?), I had to go up to the bartender to get the password, was told on my way to the bar to get the password that I might as well buy a round while I was up there anyway, so when I looked at twitter five minutes after the question and more than an hour after the tweet the answer was no.









GLANMORE SONNETS IV

Seamus Heaney

I used to lie with an ear to the line
For that way, they said, there should come a sound
Escaping ahead, an iron tune
Of flange and piston pitched along the ground,
But I never heard that. Always, instead,
Struck couplings and shuntings two miles away
Lifted over the woods. The head
Of a horse swirled back from a gate, a grey
Turnover of haunch and mane, and I’d look
Up to the cutting where she’d soon appear.
Two fields back, in the house, small ripples shook
Silently across our drinking water
(As they are shaking now across my heart)
And vanished into where they seemed to start.


6 comments:

  1. No clue what this shitstorm was so I had to look it up. Comical on all fronts.

    Been surrounded by plenty of oh-so-polites for a long time. More folks should-but-won't realize it ain't that far from A to Bambambam for a sizable chunk of all-striped Murkans.

    Godot's busy drinking with Wotan.

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  2. Good post, bdr. Thanks for the birthday shout outs, as well. They happen to be dudes that have had a powerful influence on me. My work day can't blow enough to get me totally down now.

    Of course, I also turn to the dyad of McClusky and Grinderman to at least partially ameliorate my inchoate rage.

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  3. Some days, beloved, you could not possibly be more full of self-absorbed shit if you actually went to the self-absorbed shit-packing clinic and had yourself medically stuffed.

    Happy Birthday, HH. I'd come upstairs and fuck up your work day, but I'm not in the building. I'll see if I can drum up a skeletal mariachi band or something to mark the occasion.

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  4. Oh, also: slide guitar kills. I saw them in Columbus once. Yes, that tour.

    And wait a minute, I think I read HH wrong. No matter, I've already dispatched the boneyard Mexican (s)trumpets.

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  5. Heh, self-absorbed shit? It's a motherfucking blog, by metaphysical definition it's.... but yes, I needed to publicly and pridefully castigate myself for the stupid iPhone, though in my defense, the dumb phones the Corporate store sells are dumber now than the dumb phone that died that they sold me five years ago.

    I saw Little Feat a few times here in DC (a big Little Feat town) and was at the Lisner show for George's solo album the night before he died. Still weirds.

    Hamster, I've got a present for you, will show up here later today or tomorrow. And we need to game-plan for Monday. I'll call you tomorrow.

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  6. Would you like to join the Sneed Urn Fan Club? A hundred dollar membership gets you a free t-shirt and a hand lettered "Sneed Urn Fan Club" cardboard sign, suitable for waving around at all Little Feat shows, and guaranteed to get you invited onto the tour bus. Act now, supplies limited...

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