Wednesday, October 8, 2014

With Massive Finality and Apropos of Absolutely Nothing It Came, a Cruel Blessing, the Ultimate Low Not of an Organ Made of Ice or a Passing Night Train of Black Holes

  • Woke up with that in my head. Baal works mysteries.
  • Look, it's not Matt Williams' fault that Jason Werth and Adam LaRoche, the 3-4 hitters, combined for a 2 for 35 series,and that other than Anthony Rendon and Bryce Harper no one hit, but Williams is a motherfucking cement-headed moron: Aaron Barrett, a rookie righthander, had no business being on the mound in the 7th inning of a tie game in an elimination game. None: In the dugout, first-year Manager Matt Williams watched as their season ended like this: a rookie spiked a fastball with the bases loaded while the Nationals’ two best relievers and Strasburg watched from the bullpen. In a moment that demanded urgency, Williams chose orthodoxy... “Because those are our seventh-inning guys,” Williams said. “That’s how we set this up. We had two lefties at the top of the inning, and if we got to the righties, we were going to Barrett. That’s what he’s done for us all year long. We’re certainly not going to use our closer in the seventh inning.” Fucking moron.
  • SeatSix, who will keep the moniker though he won't buy 232-10-6 next season next to my not bought 232-10-5, emailed, wondered if all major league teams do the repulsive mass patriotic jerk-off during 7th inning stretches, and I don't know if all do but I know a bunch do, but the Natinals (sic) do and they also have this schtick during an earlier half-inning where fans are pressured to take off their hats and wave the hats about their heads to show support for members of the military in attendance.

  • So I want to thank the Natinals (sic) for losing, cutting me off when I couldn't cut off myself.
  • On art,opportunism, erasure, and painting with whiteness.
  • Parasitic movements of the deconstructive?
  • Periodic reminder that Obama is a motherfucker.
  • The Potemkin Moment.
  • These naked words.
  • Nobel watch: Philip Roth, a longtime candidate for the Nobel Prize in Literature, was asked recently in The New York Times if it bothered him to be repeatedly passed over. He replied, “I wonder if I had called ‘Portnoy’s Complaint’ ‘The Orgasm Under Rapacious Capitalism,’ if I would thereby have earned the favor of the Swedish Academy.
  • Mind - and I've written this before - I dutifully read each and every Philip Roth novel as they came out, I respect and admire Roth the novelist, I can honestly say I never loved a one.
  • There was a different song beneath the poem than the song there now, just subbed in, Mr Alarem knows why, too bad I don't write about work, cause aargh.
  • Live performance from Mary Lattimore & Jeff Ziegler whose recent Slant of Life is one of my favorite releases of 2014.


Franz Wright

Then he stopped
dead on the sidewalk
to overhear himself
say quite distinctly
I quit,
in his own words — 
be glad you weren’t there.
in the cerebral
combs, unprecedented
mass desertions, solar
It said
the lips moved
not, no thought was
taken. With massive finality
and apropos of absolutely
nothing it came,
a cruel blessing,
the ultimate low
note of an organ
made of ice or a passing
night train
of black holes. He
kept lying there — 
what else was he
supposed to do? — with watch
pressed to one ear, emitting
a molecular hum. (Ever wonder
how they fit a whole
hive inside one
of them?) Minute
hand starting to disappear,
such was its speed
by now; on his face
an expression
of guarded rapture.
No one could do a thing
for him now. They’d stop,
gaze down
in disgust
and concern, a moment before
they hurried on or,
without looking,
adroitly moved
around him, the way you would
dog shit. Invariably
in such cases there is a line
that no one crosses.
You know what
I’m getting at. Mainly
everyone just stands around
and waits for the arrival
of the ambulance; the mind simply stops, nothing,
silence. Then
the most silver,
the tiniest
of a fracture
like that of an ice cube
dropped in vodka
can be heard
around the world;
people freeze
at whatever they’re doing, and bow
their minds, those persistent
illusions in pain,
or shame. But all
is soon forgotten,
the sunlight appears
all at once like
a great shadow
and floats with the gas-like hush
throughout the twelve spokes,
the brilliant yellow darkness
of the twelve candlelit
hallways forever
abandoned, forever
emanating out from
the one central
hexagonal chamber
so much larger than all
the rest, in which
the young queen lies
dreaming, amazed,
eyes open wide
her lead-lined matchbox
rocking bed,
tits up
dead, immovable
sow, maggot
in color.


  1. Are you talking about singing "God Bless America?" The Cardinals have been doing this for a few years, and I think the Yankees started in 2001.

    1. At Nats Park it's America the Beautiful I think - god shed his grace on thee - but I get my hack patriotic songs of musical crap mixed up - but I know it isn't God Bless America (though six of one, half dozen of the other effect-wise).

  2. Yeah, I want to thank the Nationals for that too. Exactly that.

    1. Fire St Peter Soehn Tommy Olsen Onalfo Kurt Nowak Benny.

  3. If you'd take off the post hoc it-happened-for-a-reason glasses, it'd be clear Matt Williams' decisions swung the win probability a couple percentage points at most.

    1. Probably true, but they *were* stupid decisions that he made via his rigid inflexible baseball player/manager as Marine bullshit that pissed me off. Mind, I'm glad he fucked up and is such an ass and proud asshole, restored some needed perspective after my dalliance with old religions.