Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Full of the Same Wind

Full on XTC cascade, YAY! sparked by listening to Nonsuch on drive home from Ohio. Full album at bottom of post. Expect LOTS next week or so. A friend asks, Proust? I failed, will be buying amber Nyquil for TNPers all of 2014. Why I wanted a quieter mind is a larger question than why I thought I could achieve one. Another friend asks, Tablet? Maybe. Another friend asks, fucking blooger? YES! If anyone has any suggestions on how to make the Apply to Template button work, I'll buy you amber Nyquil all the rest of 2013 if you can fix it. Links: Police state. Capitalism. Capitalism. CapitalismPriorities. The myth of justice. The coming collapse. Dirty WarsIsrael's Tuskegee. More here. Police state practiceOne year ago. Why aren't you using these apps to track your death?

Did you know Washington DC has a professional soccer team?  Writers on writers. I've never heard of Joseph Ceravalo. While I have failed Proust, I have not failed Olson, Maximus works. William Gass discusses Rilke. Everybody knows this is nowhere. On not like Wallace Steven's poetry. Pynchon and AshberyPrunella's latest playlist. Mr Alarum provides a Rainer Maria cascade: Rain Your Hand, Viva Anger, Viva Hate, Breakfast of Champions, Contents of Lincoln's Pockets, Make You Mine. FourTEEN. Gubaidulina.


Wallace Stevens

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is. 

XTC's Nonsuch, what a great fucking album, listened for the first time in maybe a year between Friendsville all the way downhill to Hancock this past Sunday (and at least three times since, and HOLYFUCK! what an XTC cascade I'm only beginning to indulge, it's medicinal). Peter, above. My Bird Performs. Dear Madam Barnum. Humble Daisy.

Holly Up on Poppy. Crocodile. Rook. Omnibus. Not only is that one of my favorite songs in the world, there's an allusion - I insist on believing - to Yvonne Craig in the lyrics. Then She Appeared. War Dance. Wrapped in Grey. The Ugly Underneath. Bungalow.