So I go from four o'clock Friday afternoon until seven o'clock Sunday night without looking at readers or feeders or tweeters, not by design, not out of protest, not for lack of access, but because it just didn't occur to me. Holyfuck, weird and wonderful. So quick, aarghful and unaarghful links because I could get used to non-aargh and no links; oldtimers can vouch I've a propensity to addiction followed by relentless evangelizing. Als0 to0 the promised poetry and music plus two more trip photos. The above is on the south side of 70 viewed heading west from Old Senecaville Saturday morning, the below taken yesterday on the way home in a gas station/restaurant in Bruceton Mills West Virginia (exactly halfway between Kensington and Zanesville), my snapping the photo eliciting a question whether I'm a nigger-loving liberal, the poem from Keith Waldrop's Transcendental Studies, a copy of which I found in a used bookstore in Granville Ohio. Music is from yesterday's Zanesville to Wheeling to Washington to Morgantown to Cumberland to Hancock to Hagerstown to Frederick to Kensington sound track.
- The myth of liberal individualism.
- The business of America.
- No creature escapes capital.
- Predictions and hypotheticals.
- Obamancrush. By the way, it may just be coincidence, but when I was in Ohio Tuesday and Wednesday morning there were far fewer Romney/Ryan then this past weekend, they've bloomed everywhere post-debate. And, politics aside, is there a lamer logo the Obama's O? Yes! Romney/Ryan logo (is Paul Ryan still the Republican VPOTUS-nominee? Is he still alive?) is not only lame it's ironically lame.
- Motherfucking crackers.
- Troll-baiting from the NYT.
- The problem of the NYPD.
- Did you know Washington DC has a professional soccer team? It's true! and bless St Benny and the Balkan Connection, I just might get one more home game this calendar year. A side note: Planet wins so I didn't see the game, but one o'clock on a Saturday afternoon, Toronto hosts a home game a one o'clock on a Saturday afternoon? Are they trying to not make money?
- I suppose I should be more surprised I'm not seeing more tributes to Hobsbawm, but I'm not.
- Rabbit reflux. I get the pun in the title, btw, Dave.
- Greyhoos' latest playlist.
- Prunella's latest playlist.
- >>Deleted bleggalgazing<< Will appear elsewhere after at least six more washes. Is related to this post's monologue, as you can imagine.
- Good, not experiemental. I am getting my novel-reading eyes back. Finishing up Antrim's laugh-out-loud funny The Verificationalist, blogbud Edmond sent me a copy of his Human Wishes/Enemy Combatants, THANKS! it's next, then maybe the novel Dan reviews at that link after.
- Frances, sorry, I can't find where I put your novel. Beg you for another copy? UPDATE! Nevermind, please, I just ordered a copy from Amazon.
- Ashbery talking about Riding.
Keep well in mind that it is strangely possible
for us to oppose ourselves. An illustration: competing
visual fields. The projection room is dark. The blue of the
sky would not move us, were it a foot or so above
our heads. Fear drives the body, looking for itself.
Someone lying in the roadway. About pain, we are
all more or less agreed, but reflection is
necessary for such functions as urination, walking,
writing, sexual intercourse. A single, unified
judgment establishes the matter as undecided.
Sweeps of the eye traverse and surmount
something, the traversing and surmounting of which
might, in another way, be a matter of time, toil,
danger - its very height suggesting the
violence of a fall. I am myself, but I develop.