So - a small run of High Egoslavian Holy Days is here, I pretend I am morally obliged to honor them since all past years I felt morally obliged to observe them here. Plus my mood has brightened, something about seeing Planet, plus I found Borzutzsky's latest book of poems in the Kenyon bookstore, I can let him do the dark. Plus I can't make myself shut the fuck up no matter how much I (don't) try. For some reason - probably I had just read Krasznahorkai - I wrote last year's Eno birthday post - he's sixty-seven today - and used some translation bot to convert it into Hungarian. The dog and cabbage again seemed apt.
Brian Eno volt ma született 66 évvel ezelőtt. Azt hiszem ez tetszett Eno ambient zenét nagy négy dolgot. A BLCKDGRD, bizonyos vagyok benne, hogy mothefucking POTUS 16 vagy több köze van bleggal szorongást, bármi. Nem tudom, mit kell tennie, hogy elkerülje a zaj nem okoz nagyobb zaj.
Nem, nem beszélni magyar. Bárcsak én is. Anyukája megtiltotta a lányok beszélni magyar. Igen, ez is csak egy másik BLCKDGRD sillyass.
UPDATE! Nem kapcsolódik Eno születésnapja, de válaszul az általános kétségbeesés kombinálva bleggal hiábavalóságát plusz három órát, hogy a munka a tervezett napot:
DREAM SONG #16
Hay golpes en la vida, tan fuertes ... Yo no sé!
— César Vallejo
— César Vallejo
They sniffed us out of the holes with the animals
they had programmed and there are blows in life so
powerful we just don’t know and there were trenches
and there was water and it poured in through our mouths
and out of our ears and there were things we saw in the
sand at that moment of sinking: mountains and daisies
and tulips and rivers and the bodies of the people we
had been and the bodies of the people we had loved
and we felt hooks coming through the trenches and we
felt hooks coming through the sand and I saw hooks coming
through my child’s clothes and I wanted him to know that they
would never be able to scoop us out of the sand but of course
it wasn’t true they had scooped us out of the sand and our
mouths were so full of dirt it is what they do when you’re
dead and they made us spit and they beat us until our mouths
were empty and they paid us for constructing the mountain and
it was me and L and we looked for S and we looked for J and J
and we looked for O and we looked for R and we looked for J
and S in the holes in which the bodies of those we loved were
hiding or dying or sinking or stealing some shelter some little
worm’s worth of cover to keep their bodies from dissolving
into the maniac murmurs of this impossible carcass economy
Oblique Strategy: Show Corgi attacking a cabbage.ReplyDelete
Works for me every time.
And, again, Congrats!
my late father had corgis, strongly resembling the one attacking the cabbage in the video - sometimes he had more than one at onceReplyDelete
a couple years before he died in dc, he gave away his last one to my brother
a few months ago that dog died
corgis also appear in the movie 'dave' - coincidentally, that was my father's name
speaking of dads, and death, and dc, in the news today - a family found murdered in their five million dollar home (near embassy row) after a fire erupts there - i agree with those who speculate that evidence shows the father did it as a murder/suicide - Heywood21 writes at the washpost website
>>Savopoulos is listed on the company Web site as president of American Iron Works, a Hyattsville-based company that manufactures building materials. His Facebook page says that he is the head of Sigma Investment Strategies, a hedge fund and management company, and that he had recently accepted a job in Puerto Rico.
A person who answered the phone at American Iron Works declined to comment, as did a representative at a law firm in Bladensburg that lists Savopoulos as an attorney.
I am sure that an investigation of their family finances will show they were living way above their means and desperately trying to keep up appearances. He wa a CEO, but he was also a partner of a law firm, but also a hedge fund manager, but also moving to Puerto Rico? Yeah he was scrambling to keep up appearances while things were collapsing.<<
add to this the fact that a housekeeper received a text message, supposedly from mrs savapoulos, telling her not to come to work - 'the family is sick' - and the narrative of murder/suicide is clearly the most probable account
even sadder is that there are two teenage daughters, both away at expensive boarding schools, who must deal with the consequences of these evil acts (murder and arson, whether by their father or someone else)
how much more fortunate is our host's daughter, graduating from college - as the prayer of st fred rogers expresses it, in his unabashedly theistic way, "thank you, god"
i have just added to my comments at washpost:Delete
The facts about the location of the family Porsche when found refute the sequence of events I hypothesized. I withdraw my theory and hope that the guilty party or parties are apprehended and that justice is done. The mystery of how the "don't come today" message came to be sent still needs explanation and it could be, as some have suggested, that it was sent during a hostage situation.
I saw Hans-Joachim Roedelius play his e-piano part to By This River at a concert scheduled for some reason on a Sunday afternoon at the Empty Bottle in Chicago circa very late 90s, which concert was attended by no more than fifteen enraptured devotees. Well, I was enraptured; no doubt a few others were not; no doubt some would have been if they hadn't stayed home or gone/been somewhere else; no doubt some of them had no idea Roedelius had been in town.ReplyDelete
No more than a year prior, the same venue offered up a normal evening event featuring the same in-Austria-residing Berliner on a double bill with Bri's bro Roger, who I love, but who performed a set a tad to new age-y for my taste (his piano was fine, the electro-beat guy accompanying him not so much).
That time it was a full house. I'm sure H-J R expected a larger audience when he returned on a Sunday at 5pm a short time later. Instead he got me handing him my band's latest CD when all was said and done, no doubt wondering where the nearest rubbish bin was and no doubt wondering how long it would be before I left the general area of his face.
That experience was a remarkable departure from the time I met him no more than a year prior at the Metro, also in Chicago, this time with Cluster (him and Dieter Moebius), whereafter they signed and sold CDs in an area reserved for such thing. He spoke with me cordially, even enthusiastically, no doubt because it was their virgin trip to America.
Never saw or met Eno Eno. However, not long ago my friends Vinyl Terror & Horror received an award at a ceremony in one of the Scandinavian countries, Eno being the keynote award recipient at the same event. They were told by more than one of the organizers — without having even asked or expressed any interest one way or the other — to stay away from him and his dressing room, which they only took as a matter of amusement. No doubt he hadn't even instigated the promoter's paranoia.
What a diff a name makes.
Thanks much! and my apologies for late Thanks much! I now have my playlist instructions for Monday and Tuesday, it's been a while, H-J R, et al....Delete