Wednesday, June 12, 2013

The Scrimmage of Appetite Everywhere

  • For the record, I've no idea what Edward Snowden's motives were, so without knowing his motives I can't unreservedly call him a hero though I can say I'm pleased he did it, not because it will slow the advance of the surveillance state (I keep yodeling, whoever, whatever, whyever this now, this is a MAJOR PLUS for the surveillance state for all the short-term pain-in-the-ass Snowden may or not cause panopticon operators), but because it reveals the motherfucking loads I was stupid enough once to think smart and .06% less-motherfuckeringly loadish, because it flash-gauges everyone's current state of loadishness.
  • Let me hasten to add: this is always about my complicit loadishness, my fascination with these solipsistic watersheds, he types into his blogger edit page and pushes Publish.
  • For instance, me and Planet and Ari and Hamster and Laudru and Ilse and DataBoy and Whispers (?) are going to Germanboyds tonight to watch a US Open Cup game between my sucky soccer team and Chester. Despite my dire concerns over the surveillance state, I will use a debit card to purchase gas that can be tracked, will drive on MOCO roads that are fully videoed at stop lights, and during the game a Park Police cruiser will record all the license plate numbers of cars parked at SoccerPlex. It'll be a blast, and there will be Stanchion Porn on Thursday.
  • Gaddis, for those of you who do.
  • Cover of Pynchon's Bleeding Edge, out in three months.
  • Life story.
  • Prunella's latest playlist.
  • Today's David Thomas song, one song at least a day through June, Thomas' birthday the day after tomorrow people, REQUESTS PLEASE, or not. This one you'll hear at least twice this month, probably more:


Delmore Schwarz

The heavy bear who goes with me,   
A manifold honey to smear his face,   
Clumsy and lumbering here and there,   
The central ton of every place,   
The hungry beating brutish one   
In love with candy, anger, and sleep,   
Crazy factotum, dishevelling all,   
Climbs the building, kicks the football,   
Boxes his brother in the hate-ridden city.

Breathing at my side, that heavy animal,   
That heavy bear who sleeps with me,   
Howls in his sleep for a world of sugar,   
A sweetness intimate as the water’s clasp,   
Howls in his sleep because the tight-rope   
Trembles and shows the darkness beneath.   
—The strutting show-off is terrified,   
Dressed in his dress-suit, bulging his pants,   
Trembles to think that his quivering meat   
Must finally wince to nothing at all.

That inescapable animal walks with me,
Has followed me since the black womb held,   
Moves where I move, distorting my gesture,   
A caricature, a swollen shadow,
A stupid clown of the spirit’s motive,   
Perplexes and affronts with his own darkness,   
The secret life of belly and bone,
Opaque, too near, my private, yet unknown,   
Stretches to embrace the very dear
With whom I would walk without him near,   
Touches her grossly, although a word
Would bare my heart and make me clear,   
Stumbles, flounders, and strives to be fed   
Dragging me with him in his mouthing care,   
Amid the hundred million of his kind,   

The scrimmage of appetite everywhere.


  1. Yo, Delmore hit the spot this morning. Thanks!

  2. Wow is that Pynchon cover boring. Also. Has no one every heard of throwaway phones?

  3. Replies
    1. that last dot ing of my dots above was meant to be further a ... field , / i'm crossing paths with carrie anne a lot here ,of .. in the last few weeks .. . ,said the real flying kick ..'er

  4. We are all complicit .. . with Sun Kil Moon . .. or at least .06% ... . Loads.

  5. Tom Friedman has weighed in. I don't want to spoil it, though!

  6. Luckily I've already used up my ten free views of the NYT this month.

  7. ES says he's not a hero because he did what he did for selfish reasons -- it finally hit him that the world he was being contracted to fuck over was the only world there was ever going to be for him to live in. QED.

    (That's the sort of clarity that comes with never having been the subject of the mind control experiment known as attending an American university.)

    Re. Delmore and this great poem of his -- is it just me, or was not the ursine totemic resemblance (author/subject) , in this case, startling?