Friday, May 29, 2015

This Glove Hand, for Instance, that Glides so Securely into Mine, as Though It Intends to Stay

  • Iannis Xenakis was born ninety-three years ago today. Play LOUD! please for best effect.
  • The Egoslavian birthdayiest month of the year continues. Will continue. There's one last May birthday, an apt Egoslavian High Holy Day day after tomorrow for finishing.
  • FIFA Wednesday, Hastert yesterday, I'm so nuts my first thought is Triskelion Co. is purging looming right-tainted turd-droppings pre-2016. My second thought was, depends who's indicted Friday.
  • Oh, for the record, on third and fourth thought, my Clinton Theory of why an Oligarch's Decision to Try FIFA for the Crimes of The Oligarchs: Bill Clinton (and his overlords and client subordinates) built a ponzi on US getting 2022 and when it was bribed out from beneath him he called down his vengeance.
  • The right sort of politics - 19th C American anarchism. I'm always willing to listen if always unable to be convinced, not to the argument but to its impossibility.
  • Purple Line. Here's how small I am: beyond the economic benefits and transportation benefits of the Purple Line, I want it built just to fuck with motherfucking Chevy Chase.
  • An article on Pere Ubu circa 1977. (h/t Prunella).
  • Planet wants this guy to do our tattoos.
  • The Summer Schedule for WFMU has been released. Looks like Station Manager Ken has moved to a three schedules a year from two. I confess, I'm ridiculously fascinated by what I imagine to be the backroom treachery amongst DJs to save or grab a spot.  
  • The Complete Electronic Music of Iannis Xenakis.


John Ashbery

A talent for self-realization
will get you only as far as the vacant lot
next to the lumber yard, where they have rollcall.
My name begins with an A,
so is one of the first to be read off.
I am wondering where to stand - could that group of three
or four others be the beginning of the line?

Before I have a chance to find out, a rodent-like
man pushes at my shoulders. "It's that way," he hisses.
"Didn't they teach you anything at school? That a photograph
of anything can be real, or maybe not? The corner of the stove,
a cloud of midges at dusk-time."

I know I'll have a chance to learn more
later on. Waiting is what's called for, meanwhile.
It's true that life can be anything, but certain things
definitely aren't it. This glove hand,
for instance, that glides
so securely into mine, as though it intends to stay.

1 comment:

  1. re hastert - the blackmail payment was so high i suspect it has to do with an underaged boy

    re radio shows - this was iinteresting