Tuesday, March 2, 2021

His Saw Soured the Song of Birds with Its Wheezy Gnaw

Jeff! I'm a brand now at work emergency plague cog boosted
No one knows another Jeff, Jeff an Edith, eventual Bertha by way of Jedediah
The one guy in my life permitted to call me Pop called me Popdude, he took Georgetown's *Please get the fuck out* buy-out, it's like he never worked there
Tome called me Rudy Tompopovich (before Kermit Washington decapitated Pudy Jopovich)

I am in trouble because I cake montent available to stackulty and fudents in a plime of tague
Ly mibrary ployems a rerson peduced to opyrightcay, always otherfuckingmay opyrightcay
acultyfay allcay emay I am told I am praised as The Jeff to the Lean of the Dibrary, had I heard?
Onay. At least I wasn't asked if I'm related to Gregg. It's like I never worked there at all



Me, above, self-portrait a year ago, deleted bleggalgaze masked as bleggalgaze
Climates of CapitalIdeology of late capitalism
Bernie’s loss, and two theories of capitalism
The betrayal at the heart of Sanders
Your soon to be illegal use of encryption for privacy
Extinction is erasing the Earth's music
(Update: see comments for context) The great reset & great awakening
American exceptionalism and motherfucking Democrats
Spark BirdPhenomenological PanopticonRansom voice
Helmetball still and always finest metaphor for America
Metal + wind = the eternalBut is it concrete?




Richard Wilbur

Still, citizen sparrow, this vulture which you call   
Unnatural, let him but lumber again to air   
Over the rotten office, let him bear
The carrion ballast up, and at the tall

Tip of the sky lie cruising. Then you’ll see
That no more beautiful bird is in heaven’s height,   
No wider more placid wings, no watchfuller flight;   
He shoulders nature there, the frightfully free,

The naked-headed one. Pardon him, you   
Who dart in the orchard aisles, for it is he   
Devours death, mocks mutability,
Has heart to make an end, keeps nature new.

Thinking of Noah, childheart, try to forget   
How for so many bedlam hours his saw   
Soured the song of birds with its wheezy gnaw,   
And the slam of his hammer all the day beset

The people’s ears. Forget that he could bear   
To see the towns like coral under the keel,
And the fields so dismal deep. Try rather to feel   
How high and weary it was, on the waters where

He rocked his only world, and everyone’s.   
Forgive the hero, you who would have died   
Gladly with all you knew; he rode that tide   
To Ararat; all men are Noah’s sons.


  1. Why would you link to an interview with Dugin? You want your audience to read that shit? What the fuck is wrong with you? I thought you were one of the good guys.

    1. I should have added more context - this was recommended by a friend who says keep an eye out, this is coming down Shitlord Pike. I've seen the term used by others of shitlord bent .

  2. speaking of noah, as wilbur's poem does, reminds me of a conversation i had seven years ago with my older brother - we were both in salem, massachusetts, visiting our hospitalized aunt during her last illness - we had both seen the recently released film starring russell crowe as noah

    i asked if he believed in the literal truth of the story - that every snake, mouse, and bird in new england was descended from passengers on the ark - he said he did

    recently he has made it clear he thinks that the presidential election was stolen from trump

    last week he sent me by snailmail a dvd of "obamagate" the movie - starring dean cain and kristy swanson - as well as a mailing he'd received from congressman devin nunes on which he'd written "if you don't have a subscription to judicial watch, i suggest you get one"