- Yes, still monologueless since all that's appeared in tablet (see above) is bleggalgaze and bleggalgaze is less popular than Jack Gilbert and Elliott Carter and DC United and Andy Partridge and Neil Young. No, writing monologues on the return to quotidian motherfuckeringness (did you know the United States had a presidential election just nine days ago? feels three decades?) not only doesn't appeal (though it's far more popular than Jack Gilbert and Elliott Carter and DC United and Andy Partridge and Neil Young), it's inconceivable (see the Gilbert poem below) at least through today (prompting the bleggalgazing), especially when I all I need to is add a link and point, See? They're all still motherfuckers and will always be.
- Second time as tragedy.
- His generation's greatest academic fraud (I say that admiringly).
- In the land of the free.
- Lessons in surveillance.
- Motherfucking crackers.
- Motherfucking police, same in any language.
- I didn't vote for this motherfucker who lives in the same town I do.
- Humphries. Fred Humphries. Yes, I recycle my fourteen hour old twooter bits here if I still giggle like a six year old at it.
- George Will drops acid, Fred Hiatt publishes. See?
- Riding the general staff.
- So the thumbsucking starts.
- Eternal recurrence.
- Still life.
- Anthony's links of the week.
- Myersville council member not happy with his iPad!
- I can't do that.
- My old friends at Agitprop!
- Jokes toddlers make!
- Remembering Gilbert.
- UPDATE! Gilbert's NYT obituary.
- Henry James, for those of you who do.
- An evening in memory of Dragomoshchenko.
- Stream Robert Wyatt's remastered first solo album.
- Brother from another planet.
TO SEE IF SOMETHING COMES NEXT
There is nothing here at the top of the valley.
Sky and morning, silence and dry smell
of heavy sunlight on the stone everywhere.
Goats occasionally, and the sound of roosters
in the bright heat where he lives with the dead
woman and purity. Trying to see if something
comes next. Wondering whether he has stalled.
Maybe, he thinks, it is like the No-: whenever
the script says dances, whatever the actor does next
is a dance. If he stands still he is dancing.