Friday, May 7, 2021

The Question Is Submitted Through an Encrypted Browser

One of the strangest meetings ever today, a Royal Librarian of Exco Credentials hired and scheduled to debut in person in April 2020 has scheduled meetings with lessers since zoom-shackling to get to know us, she hears so much about us, after every department but circulation she got to my comrades recently and me today.

She seems a decent human and decent humans I'm friends with who think me a decent human vouch that they *think* new RLoEC a decent human. I did not tell her what I think about anything of the library other than I like my tier comrades one and all now now that Scold is gone, I vouch that statement about my comrades is true. 

I vouch this is true. Do you have pets was her first question. Dear Jeff's boss, RLoEC asked, how do I approach Jeff? I like to hike, I'm told you might have suggestions on great local hikes, question two.

She and her husband lived in Bolton Hill two blocks from where Planet and Air lived in Bolton Hill when Planet was at MICA.

If she baited me into that she's shrewder and scarier and demands more respect and is WAY! more likeable than any of my other bosses

Why cats knock shit over!
About that rules based international order
The cracker crucifixition of and bidenite beatification of House of Cheney, thank you for the reminder, my recent allergic reaction to blooming givvafuck abated, where are the cicadas?
Thankless thoughty thinklets
"Culled"Avedon Carol's occasional linksPreviewing the 2024 Democratic primary
The curse of the zombie bookThom Gunn's letters575Mike Nesmith week
Superwolves my favorite album of 2021 so far, it's not even close

DAY #1101

Daniel Borzutzky

The hospitals are exploding in the middle of the city and they tell us

The dead are not dead and the beach is disappearing

And the sand is disappearing and the lake and the dirty water and the children are disappearing

And the broken parents gamble with their own flesh because they know it has no value

They know their blood has no value      their hair has no value

And they ask the coroner

What can we bury here       there are so many bodies to bury

If we don’t bury them soon

We will need to burn them or toss them into the river

And they ask the police

Are we allowed to mourn here

Has our request to mourn been stamped with the appropriate seals and signatures

Can the authorities confirm we won’t

Be immolated like the excess bodies      like the high schools

Like the sand and the lake and the patients who dissolve on the nightly news

Who char in the Bank of America

Can the authorities confirm who we must pay

In order to mourn the bodies we love

The question is submitted through an encrypted browser

The question is submitted into the blankness of the bureaucracy

Thank you for your question     we will contact you as soon as

We locate an authoritative body

Who has been granted the permission to speak

But and

We need to thank someone because we have not yet been sacrificed like the sand

But and

We need to pay someone because we have not yet been disappeared like the sturgeon

We are not like the drinking water     we have not yet been    contaminated beyond repair

And we are still alive       though leaking with griefshame

And we are still broken    though dripping with griefshame

And our faces feel so hot because they are dying from so much life again

And our faces feel so hot because they are living from so much griefshame

We want to trade ourselves but we don’t know

What we are worth to the operating system controlling the algorithms

Managing who we love     where we live     what we eat and whether or not

Our bodies will be blown into shards rubble ruins remains debris splinters

There is nothing to see here     say the authoritative bodies to the international observers

And it’s true     our mouths are empty

Our eyes are empty

The price of my body is four

The price of my eye is five

The price of my future is twenty-two

There is no meaning for the depository

No rest for the depositor who is buried under the weight

Of the cryptocurrency tying them to a state that is not sovereign

There is no place for the weight of my thigh

I am hungry but there is no place for hunger

I am tired but there is no place for tiredness

Is my blood worth eighteen

Is my sperm worth fourteen

I have kidneys        I have a forceful face that does not know its place

I have a blank mouth that does not know what it can earn on the free market

And when I confess to what the authoritative bodies want me to confess (I live in the wrong body)

My life can’t be verified among all the other lives

All the four-digit codes I give them are connected to accounts that have been closed

All my passwords have vanished


  1. 0)the cicadas are underground - but soon, soon....

    1)that's a good picture of a couple of cats - so nice you put it twice - the first time is more contextual, the second more cat-centric - i like them both

    2)and speaking of cats, here's an excerpt from

    john gray is being interviewed by tayo bero

    But lots of human dilemmas, not just in extreme situations of war or pandemic ... but in everyday life, don't have a single right answer and may not even have any answer.

    Human beings simply have to come up with something from their own reserves with which they're satisfied, or if not satisfied, then at least they can live with.

    So, if by craving tranquility, we will forever be in turmoil, and if seeking meaning and happiness are mere distractions, what are we meant to do? What are the ingredients for the best life?

    If you want to know the variety of human goodness, don't read philosophers. Read really good novelists of various kinds in various languages from various cultures and various times in history. Read novelists or writers or poets. You'll learn a lot more about the variety and the real nature of the good life than you would by reading philosophers.

    1. sorry for the error - i misidentified the interviewer - Gray spoke to IDEAS host Nahlah Ayed