Gently Fanning Our Digits, Gently Fanning

 
David Gilmour is sixty-seven today. I neither hate or love Pink Floyd and lean more towards like than dislike depending on the song though I can state experientially that me and mushrooms and Floyd didn't play well together the two times we tried thirty or so years ago, so while there's not much Floyd here, I'll celebrate Gilmour's birthday as an excellent excuse to play Kate Bush, David Gilmour playing lead guitar on the above, watch it, you'll see him. As I go to bed I'm told when I wake up there might not be power because of storm that's my fault, in my head I did a snoopy dance at another snow-less winter on March 1, if this sentence isn't struck out when you read this I did wake up without power plus the scheduled posting worked, which would be a first, fucking blooger. So, power this morning. We're told we'll most likely lose later, so three days - yesterday's, today's, tomorrow's - worth of links today. Prunella ponders lesser-evilism, provides awesome playlist. Advanced obamapologetics. Of course he can and does. Presidents have always, what's different now is THEY WANT YOU TO KNOW ABOUT IT. Meanwhile, imagine how much snuff has gone on in Venezuela in the past eighteen hours with Obama's classified approval. Of course Chavez was an asshole. Anyone who wants the power he wanted is an asshole. I bet he's ordered people tortured and the assassination of his citizens, forgive my romantic rubity, I like to think him at least .06% less-shitty but no more - assholes are assholes - than motherfucking Obama. The vultures are circling. But yes, distrust everything you read from all sides on Chavez the next week, but distrust the anti-Chavez noise .06% more. The sequester's hidden danger: These policies are an appalling intellectual failure. Yet our current leaders in Washington seem unable to learn this lesson, even in the face of such stark examples of Britain and other European countries. Though he backed the stimulus in early 2009, Barack Obama had already displayed a sympathy for deficit reduction policies before he took office, and he subsequently appointed the Bowles-Simpson commission to suggest ways to balance the budget as soon as possible. He did not accept their proposals, but the austerity advocates quickly gained the upper hand. GAH! The policies are not a failure to those that set policy. Our current leaders did learn the lessons of Europe. Another victory for the 1%. My apologies, someone called this bullshit deliberate shock doctrine theatrics, I forget where, but yes. Conspiracy theorists. This land is your land. Gaming the news. Bleggalgazing. PEPCO brags about performance. How's that for taunting the weather? Witness the power of my Baal-Taunting. At 3:59 EST yesterday afternoon I tweeted Sergio Ramos own-goal. Good for the filthy bastard. Fucking Real Madrid, the *ONLY* team in the world that could get me rooting for Man Utd. At 4:13 I tweeted Manchester United are down to 10 men and need to score two goals without reply to make it to the last eight of the Champions League >>> and >>> That's from Guardian live blog, posted to prove my Baal-taunting skills remain awesome, minutes after mocking Ramos.  It could have gone either way, but Cuneyt's decision to red card Nani changed the game. Did you know Washington DC has a professional soccer team? Hymn to life. The peculiar nature of literary creation. William Gass interview. Borges. Glass of water and coffee-pot. Borges' book selections. William Carlos Williams talks. Young woman drawing. Performance enhancing drugs for writers. 101 versions of Stairway to Heaven. Stream the new Sun Volt? More mehfeh than fehmeh. Wyatt's Shipbuilding. Zombie playlist. Have I ever mentioned how holyfuck-much I love Kate Bush, that she has one of three permanent spots in my Sillyass Deserted Island Game?






ESSAY ON RESEMBLANCE

Lisa Robertson 

Our toebones resemble the toebones of another species whose individuals prefer a climate, which is also our ideal climate, the climate through which knowledge culminates in itself and in which we rest on porches because it is expedient to do so, gently fanning our digits, gently fanning.

This is about non-mystical doubling, which is also mystical. In theosophical cabins made of cedar and tin, freedom and poetry repeat unpunctuated, correspondent. Their leaves are moving.