Sunday, May 17, 2020

The Dogs Have Given Their Voices to the Warp of Reproduction

  • For forty-five years I've gone to Sugarloaf, to hike, read, write, long ago lost younger things, it's one of my five most sacred places though I'm told I don't play that game any more
  • We park on Mt Ephraim Road instead of the lots on Sugarloaf because best starting spot/landing spot for favorite six mile loop
  • Friday past, on Comus Road, past the circle at mountain's base, past the mansion exit, where pavement turns to dirt just like that, all the grass parking spots blocked by boulders
  • turned right on Mt Ephraim and every possible parking spot the two miles to where we would have parked and a mile more down the hill all the way to the big Frederick County school bus turnaround just above the house and land I've coveted for forty-five years was blocked by boulders
  • Coveted the house and land then turned around and drove back and parked in the West View lot of Sugarloaf, speculating why the boulders during drive, and when we saw all the new parking spaces on the right before East View lot and on the left almost all the way between East View lot and West View lot, guessed right
  • Ran into Stronghold workers, they confirmed, invasive destructive species, pesky, never-walkers walking in time of plague, trashing the joint (in the back of the workers golf carts trash bags filled with empty plastic water bottles and granola bar wrappers, and bags of dog shit, this is true, humans bag their dogs' shit in the woods then leave the bags in the woods, what an idiot species), getting lost after sundown being blind in daylight, the workers saying they need herd the never-walkers into two lots to help them find their cars after the workers rescue the lost dopes from the dark
  • Sugarloaf still sacred

  • America: So there are two likely reasons the Michigan legislature gave into violence. One: they think that right wing violence is legitimate. Two, they don’t trust the police or national guard to stop right wingers they sympathize with and support. Meanwhile only two parts of the left believe they have a right to be violent: Antifa, and the Black Panthers. The Black Panthers have taken to armed escort of legislators they support. Those who disarm; those who believe fanatically in non-violence, always exist at the whim of those who believe in violence and are good at it. This is the position the left has put itself in in America and many other countries: disarmed, bad at violence, with no influence over the violent organs of the state and almost no tradition or skill in violence in the few organs it still has influence over (like some unions.)
  • Today in motherfucking Democrats: My family is in quarantine, I worry about a premature return to work, and sure, I laughed at that Shaun of the Dead photo of Ohio protesters protesting state lockdown laws. But I also recognize the crisis is also raising serious civil liberties issues, from prisoners trapped in deadly conditions to profound questions about speech and assembly, the limits to surveillance and snitching, etc. If this disease is going to be in our lives for the foreseeable future, that makes it more urgent that we talk about what these rules will be, not less — yet the party I grew up supporting seems to have lost the ability to do so, and I don’t understand why.
  • Today in motherfucking Democrats: As millions lose jobs, health care and homes, House Democrats have moved from helping Donald Trump give large corporations $4 trillion, to now asking the really important questions: How can we prevent rank-and-file workers from getting too much subsistence income, and how can we then rescue the real victims in this crisis -- the corporate lobbyists that run Washington? 


Patrick Milian

A trouble with images is that they set the gut to tremble in congratulation. Two flounder-shaped bowls with eels for spoons. One salt. One sugar.
He didn’t say please with manners or please please with desperation like a bitter sprig to the fiery night.

Watching yourself swath your eyes in skin is difficult. I’m the executioner’s mask that whispers to the head. Don’t let go. And how often have I been a convention without knowing it. And how was I supposed to know.
For at least one person we’re called the second person.
Scrying is only a recombobulation of reflections. To at least one person everything after is epilogue.

He will. Someday. Sleepwalk into my dinner. The luminous strip of belly through his bathrobe will shiver in the evening air. But I’ll see my face reflected in it.
The elegant dogs are tonguing glass figurines.

On the third shelf. An X to be prince of. The kind of X that razors sewn into the duvet were stropped against. A second X for you to burn.
My next question was to be. Who tastes as much slither as sugar. But the dogs have given their voices to the warp of reproduction.


  1. Your hiking experiences reminded me of the time we were backpacking in the high Sierra, (you soon leave the day hikers behind when backpacking) we camped above tree line about 11,000 feet. We climbed a 12,000 foot peak which was very difficult. When we got to the top we found six empty beer cans.

  2. in my six dozen solar circuits i have slept outside something like ten times

    ones of the most memorable was a half century ago - on the last night of a boston to san francisco motor trip my companions and i laid our sleeping bags out in the california mountains above the tree line

    it was the time of the perseid meteor shower and we had a clear and dark night for it

    in the morning when i woke up there was a crested bird - i suppose it was a quail - about a yard from my feet

    i don't remember what we had for breakfast

    2)that's a nice looking photo of a hiker in the spring woods

    3)the account of the workers removing bags of dog exrement reminds me of the old joke about what do you have if you have twenty mf professional democrats - specifically bill and hillary and chelsea and neera and their most trusted associates snd generous 'donors' - buried up to their necks in sand?

    not quite enough sand yet

    similarly, those who would bag their dogs' throughput, and yet not remove it from the landscape, have a certain degree of consideration for others, but not quite enough consideration yet

  3. the last sentence of milian's next to last stanza reminds me of something from noam chomsky

    our friends at wikipedia inform us

    In 1985, a literary competition was held at Stanford University in which the contestants were invited to make Chomsky's sentence meaningful using not more than 100 words of prose or 14 lines of verse. An example entry from the competition, from C.M. Street, is:

    It can only be the thought of verdure to come, which prompts us in the autumn to buy these dormant white lumps of vegetable matter covered by a brown papery skin, and lovingly to plant them and care for them. It is a marvel to me that under this cover they are labouring unseen at such a rate within to give us the sudden awesome beauty of spring flowering bulbs. While winter reigns the earth reposes but these colourless green ideas sleep furiously.

    and now i'm reminded

    Noam and I - a true story

    Noam Chomsky and I go back a long way, although not a deep way. In my undergraduate days I took a course from him, and got an A (it was "Intellectuals and Social Change" - a large lecture course - everybody got A's).

    On a more personal level, in the early 1970s he and I worked in Building 20 at MIT - it was built of wood during World War II, and was still there three decades later (it lasted until 1998, I've been informed, and has more than one web site dedicated to it). One coffee break time we were both standing in front of a vending machine in the basement, and he asked if I had two nickels for a dime. I did. He acted just like a regular person, not a world-famous celebrity.

    He and I have not talked since, but I still consider myself an intellectual interested in social change, and part of the continuing struggle against the MICFiC* - *M ilitary I ndustrial C ongressional Fi nancial C orporate Media Complex, a conspiracy to use, abuse, and confuse the people, to "milk, shear, and slaughter the sheeple", figuratively speaking - except the slaughter is literal.