OK, I admit I'd never heard that song until yesterday on Irwin's show, what, it was wowee, I wasn't going to post it? I swear, blessed serendipity, I woke up this morning with the song below the Jack Gilbert poem in my head and then when link-fishing this morning I saw this, posted while I was asleep. Holyfucking weird. As for the Gilbert poem, I was surprised when I saw this obit/appreciation of Gilbert last night and realized I hadn't posted it during the Gilbert blizzard:
He thinks about how important the sinning was,
how much his equity was in just being alive.
Like the sloth. The days and nights wasted,
doing nothing important adding up to
the favorite years. Long hot afternoons
watching ants while the cicadas railed
in the Chinese elm about the brevity of life.
Indolence so often while no one was watching.
Wasting June mornings with the earth singing
all around. Autumn afternoons doing nothing
but listening to the siren voices of streams
and clouds coaxing him into the sweet happiness
of leaving it all alone. Using up what
little time we have, relishing our mortality,
waltzing slowly without purpose. Neglecting
the future. Content to let the garden fail
and the house continue on in its usual disorder.
Yes, and coveting the neighbors' wives.
Their clean hair and soft voices. The seraphim
he was sure were in one of the upstairs rooms.
Hesitant occasions of pride, feeling himself feeling.
Waking in the night and lying there. Discovering
the past in wonderful stillness. The other,
older pride. Watching the ambulance take away
the man whose throat he had crushed. Above all,
his greed. Greed of time, of being. This world,
the pinewoods stretching all brown or bare
on either side of the railroad tracks in winter
twilight. Him feeling the cold, sinfully unshriven.
- On the suckage of presidents. I don't know what Spielberg's motives were when he made Lincoln, though the combination of his full-throated support of Obama and my wild and profound distrust of Obama lead me to think Spielberg's making a comparison between Lincoln and Obama re: the noble sacrifices and hard choices each made and make in the face of racist opposition by enemies and rank political opportunism by friends. Forgive me if I can't equate ordering the death of hundreds of thousands of Americans for the emancipation of slaves with the impoverishing of millions for the saving of bankers' summer cottages in the Alps.
- Plus, as the great (I think so, the guy at the link above thinks so) Duane Ellison ( I took this guy's class years ago. I can tell you that this is hands-down the WORST teacher I have EVER had - so bad I never forgot his name. Rude and just plain creepy as all get out. Impossible tests. Over half the class dropped out before the semester ended. This man made me hate history. DO NOT take his class - you have been warned) taught, the Civil War was about (1) National Bank (2) sale and distribution of western lands (3) protective tariffs and (4) internal capital improvements and only became about slavery when the Union citizens collectively gave up the fuck about the top four.
- Devastation in meatspace.
- Obama calls on citizens to cut their own throats.
- Whistling past graveyard.
- The new, freed from running for reelection, free to be himself, progressive Obama!
- Progressive heroine.
- Who has a conflict of interest.
- One evil motherfucker.
- Because killing raises less pesky
legallogistical issues than taking prisoners.
- Reviewing United's roster.
- Even if United was hosting the MLS Cup title game this Saturday and I was there and would scream for a victory I would still shout that MLS playoffs suck. Cause they do.
- Zombie Doug Duncan!
- No no no, it's Ningland v Chivas.
- On the psychoanalysis of ruins.
- The greatest American artist you've never heard of? I hadn't.
- Two hours of Uncle Tupelo taking requests. Yes, this is a Wilco-free zone, but Uncle Tupelo played often (if not in a while).
- The rise and fall of the obscure music download blog.