Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Butt In Their Bone Cage Surges to Bursting

  • John Cage centenary tomorrow. Requests solicited in comments or via email please and thanks. Provide links if possible, please.
  • Reminder: I'm closing comments after they've laid moribund for a day or two: I'm getting major spammed - Hi! Mr Indonesia, Mr Bangladesh! - and as much as I hate the comment-squiggles I'd just as soon not impose them on you.
  • Busy, have some linkages, songs, a poem.
  • Not enough crackers.
  • I'm going to try very hard not to bwah the Charlotte Bwah. Just failed.
  • UPDATE! Of course they are. Pay no mind.
  • Last call at the Playboy mansion.
  • If the Republicans were interested in winning.
  • Capitalism's ideological crutches.
  • Shameless pandering to My Little Pony fetishists.
  • Nietzsche, for those of you who do.
  • Hey! Magnetic Fields playing DC Saturday and Sunday November 17, 18. Wasn't going to go: other than three songs, the new album bores me. Driving Planet back to Gambier she played some from all the earlier albums, bored me. I remembered the show we saw in Philly earlier this year, was lots of fun but Merritt's I hate you you fucking fucks and I hate being here act bored me. Still, Earthgirl and Planet said please and Sunday the 18th is when Planet flies in for Thanksgiving Break, so we're going. Will be fun just to go. Someone named Emma Straub, Novelist, is opening, what the fuck? What's an Emma Straub? Anyway, join us! Tickets are general admission, let's have dinner first!
  • UPDATE! Handwritten Beefheart poem!
  • What, you expect a Mag Fields' song before the poem. NO! Have new Bob Mould single first, then the poem, then Mag Fields.


Janet Holmes

The noun one keeps batting away
refuses declension.

He says, I don’t want to be
twenty-four again.
Twenty-four was a handful:

the flawless
meatflesh, best self, miraculous
leap/thump on the hardwood,
the twist and splash.

The exuberance
in the present tense,

the timebound blood pump
two throbbing lungs butt
in their bone cage

surges to bursting.
He does not perdure

in this internal defection:
so rare, and so heroic.


  1. the poem is about rondo the basketball player, correct?

  2. If there is a basketball player names Rondo - I have no idea - then yes! I got the hardwood and stuff, thought Rondo as in dance/musical movement. Which I suppose it does.

  3. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ekpxJfDd3j8
    he's dripping in swag, lol.
    rondo that is. maybe the dance movement is named after him. fun fact: he didn't start playing basketball til he was 17. before that, he just roller-skated.

  4. Something from "Songs for Drella"... Oh, wait I thought you said John Cale. Oops. OK. Can you find that piece he did with transistor radios? If not, then 4'33" is always an audience fav.

    Here's link to the radio piece: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IC6h1A6TEIE

  5. Hey BDR,

    It is becoming very sucky that we seem to converge. I need newness, yet we are mostly the same. We read the same things. We don't listen to the same things because I don't really listen anymore...I avoid reading, because it depresses me...except for blogs that I read everyday and I play video games that let my id blow the shit out of people and et cetera ad nauseum. Please help and/or advise.