Thursday, June 8, 2023

« wild » fire’s roiling, locust-clouded « our » stampede—as if ignoring a war

That's old, I had cause to think of it. First time I've typed in digital tablet since May 23. I wrote in analog tablet every day since May 23. Here's creepy: between May 23 and June 7 Evernote added a new feature, AI Cleanup. I don't have a hot take on AI and sense I'm not freaked out enough yet and I'm OK with that, I'm fat from the freak out buffet I already wolf down daily. I think it probably a blessing I don't have the scifi gene. I'm a third into Lord Jim and a fourth into Idiot and can't remember the next day what I read the day before, I've never needed bookmarks more than now, I could read the same chapter four days in a row, unaware then dimly aware then you dumbfuck aware. AI. Some day I won't need to tell you three times we are being reprogrammed, we'll talk about something else waiting our turn to be fresh meat ground in an abattoir

As I type this New Yorkers advised to not go outside and if they must wear a mask because of Canadian wildfires' smoke, in DC it's the brightest foggy day I've ever seen. Polar icepacks are melting. Did you know that the day I typed this the heat index in parts of Puerto Rico was 125 degrees fahrenheit? Remember how once upon by June 1st yards twinkled with fireflies? Where I live as I type this is six inches short of rain for the year, a friend and colleague who's a rabid gardener and brings me her just-off-the-vine tomatoes I eat, juice running down my chin, like apples, tells me local apple crops two weeks to shittier quality and six weeks to failure without multiple days of saturating rain. The bad El Niño predicted for this Summer hasn't started yet and is predicted to be worse in 2024. Enjoy this Summer. If you make it to next Summer next Summer is gonna suck. Reminder: AI funded by shitlords who never want to talk to much less encounter in any fashion any fucking not-dead-yet peasant again

Two above new PJ Harvey songs off an album out in August. Been thinking about musicians and bands and authors and poets I once liked, loved, revered. Who aged first, me or he/she/they/them? Who broke it off most, that most important +.0001st of every relationship? Exhibit One: Talking Heads. Is it me tiring of the music, another I don't ever need to hear any Beatles songs EVER AGAIN except George's *Northern Song* (and even that not so much now) and *All Too Much* or learning (or more accurately confirming what I suspected) that Bryne an ick human? Anyway, I've always, still do, and hope to always love PJ Harvey though why she drops off my radar now and then solely my what the fuck was I talking about, the two songs above new, and two earlier Polly Jean below and yowza. Maybe I should type in digital table more, maybe I shouldn't, and copy/pasting from evernote to blooger every fart the fucking hassle I deserve

Unlike dogs, our feline friends are barely different from their wild ancestors
Cornel West Announces He is Running for President
The expected dismissal and derision was strongest in my tesla timeline not from professional Democrats, a few bothered, but from professional philosophers with academic scaffolding and wrap-up PhD thesis soon-to-be-adjunct faculty wage slaves, as I should have bet you infinite digital pints it'd be
Cornel West Announces He is Running for President
*Should* West gain ANY traction, *then* the professional Democrats bone-sawing begins, they'll Khashoggi his ass
Idle rich baffled by poor people's distaste for dangerous, low-paying jobs
The Demon in America's Sacred Narrative
He hates the Russians and says let the blood flow
No - Such Propaganda Delusions Will Not Win The War
A thoroughly dishonest and cynical apology for Ukrainian fascism, past and present.
Congress likely to hide defense spending in new Ukraine aid bill
More Than Half of America’s 100 Richest People Exploit Special Trusts to Avoid Estate Taxes
They can't stress enough, both parties want a police state & are doing all in their power to hasten one
The fake news about Fake News
Boiling Brook Pkwy one of the weirdest secret roads in Moco and this shopping center THE weirdest secret shopping center in Moco
An Illustrated Guide to Mouth Gestures and Their Meanings Around the World
New (Eno-produced) Peter Gabriel song
Four decades ago a new Peter Gabriel album would be cause for celebration but then he put out So and I said goodbye (the current bald man face-mullet doesn't effect the music but please)
"Close Readings” of New York School Poets — Frank O’Hara, James Schuyler, John Ashbery, and Kenneth Koch (and Much More)


Miriam Bird Greenberg

Whole towns like • horses turnt loose in the bardo of •
« wild » fire’s roiling, locust-clouded « our » stampede—as if
ignoring a war two counties over meant it couldn’t come
closer—plague-black | ened forests consumed by a burnt
• wind: « and untamable » a lithe and lumbering creature cities-
sized, mitosis-prone, come to lick clean the tinder « tender
ly » face of village mid-stampede. Caressing • lost wedding
pictures, kitchen tables, • dogs lured in « runaway » terror in
to the inferno, it leaps roads in its roving. Whole towns re
made over • and far • in « night » parking lots where « away »
wander once-middle-class refugees the fire’s made. Atop
an RV, a parrot’s perched, and for its human from whom
it’s learned, its gift: Fuck you. Its every world of instinct • breach
ed, and black « trust- » its human-made ruin. Hello?

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