- Today strangers able to enter the building I work in if their IDs blazed green, I have been in the building for months but with only one or two well-distanced and masked workers at any one time
- Not worried and not complaining just saying as one of the menially essential and essentially menial
- I've had it good compared to the Safeway cashier
- and much better and safer than campus housekeeping
- More menial, me, than essential, you'll be too if not already
- More at other place
- I'm grateful for Earthgirl's awesome masks, very grateful to D who said I look like Biden after a snort of apple sauce and a gulp of apple juice from my sippy-cup in it
- Masks emphasize my Doctor Sevrin ears
- No, we will never listen to the warnings
- Inside the seething white heart of the blue lives matter movement
- The real Republican platform
- Cracker privilege
- Internet and quarantine
- I haven't watched television, as in the television that is in my house, in at least three years, Saturday past it turned itself on and off for two hours then stopped electric death spasms and died
- Earthgirl told me nothing she'd watch on that screen she couldn't watch on her laptop
- When I called Comcast to pay them for more oomph so Earthgirl can zoom her classes through the shitty MCPS zoom portal I went ahead and cancelled cable
- Did you know, beloveds, friends, regulars, visitors, that unless you ask your internet company to put as much zwertz in your uploads as your downloads they put 90% of your zwertzs into download?
- An endless collision of myths
- A collision with the divine
- Accessibility and place
- UPDATE! Pylon!
- UPDATE! Kate Bush!
- UPDATE! Yo La Tengo!
- UPDATE! Dan reviews two new works of fiction
- Woke up with Mats in my head
THE ATROPHY OF PRIVATE LIFE
In the heavy fashion magazines strewn here and there around the house the photos of objects and people mouth the word “money,” but you, assuming no one wants you anymore, mishear the message as “meaning.” Arousal follows. The lives of the rich are so fabulous! The destruction of the poetical lies heavily on their hands, as on their swollen notion that we are always watching. There is nothing behind the mask. Nothing suffocating under its pressure, no human essence trying to get out.
Awareness, always awareness. Don’t you see how these elaborate masks are turning you into a zombie? The private life is not for the eye but for the endless interior. It is trying to push all this crap aside and find the missing line. Nobody, least of all the future, cares about the outcome of this quest.
It is easy to lose, through meddling or neglect, an entire aspect of existence. And sometimes, to cultivate a single new thought, you need not only silence but an entirely new life.