- Fleabus in a hamper last night. Fleabus has rallied from her depression at Olive's arrival. She can only be a kitten for bursts - she is ten? eleven? twelve? - but she's bursting to be a kitten again.
- Every major snowstorm's approach and delivery since I got my drivers license forty years ago PISSED ME OFF! until tonight's/tomorrow's. This time? I'm ready to be marooned.
- It is a shame to waste on a weekend: I wish the storm obliterated a week of work, but.
- I have no plans to publish or not publish during the storm, nor do I wish for outages, though internet before power, please.
- I hoped briefly & mehly for an internet outage, where's the quitting in that?
- Elizabeth Warren was tweeted last night, she was making her I'm a rebel, Dottie noises about motherfucking Triskelions. Folk were oh my, my hero!
- I posed a question on twuuter, how much pleasure would I - and you, I guess, if you want to play - get from watching Clinton Inc FREAK THE FUCK OUT! if Bernie Sanders this Saturday stood in front of a rapturous Iowa City crowd and introduced Elizabeth Warren as his running mate to-be?
- I'm gonna enjoy this Trump phenomenon, especially and predominantly in light of who Sanders and Warren will be endorsing for POTUS come summer.
- Cowboy Isis.
- Badiou, for those of you who do.
- Medial neglect and black boxes.
- On CD Wright's poetry.
- UPDATE! New P.J. Harvey song!
THE WATER WAS RISING
The water was rising, I got up on the bed
Still wearing the Hawaiian shirt he had on yesterday
He used his thoughts to draw a rudimentary circle on the wall
Hitting Beirut and killing 22 civilians
But now go the bells, and we are ready
Novelty is no better than repetition
That graces the walls of toilet stalls with hooey
And comparison with the dead—their slimy cruelty—and meatballs
Perched like ghostly birds
Believing in old men’s lies, then too late unbelieving
There’s rough life in the rust
Long-buried whore’s eggs, razor-clams with shells
Pirates dressed in pink and pit-bulls on parade
With power to extend the longevity of learned fear in the mouse
And a heron on the horizon many sewing-days ago
Jane, Jane, ascend the stairs
Of the river’s mouth at the year’s turn
Thus predicting the shock to the tale that so entertains grown children
Of the animals that have nearly all forsaken us