Filled to the Brim With Excess Idolatry

Hey! Good news!

Showed up in my email box yesterday morning. The above's the email in it's entirety, when I click the PRE-SAVE UPCOMING MUSIC NOW it links to spotify and youtube and other shitty vendors I don't use, no link to bandcamp, and there's nothing at bandcamp yet though all previous studio albums plus more are there so presumably, hopefully, the UPCOMING MUSIC will be there next week *before* I drive to Michigan to see my daughter this coming Wednesday so I can listen to it on the drive there, on the drives once there to disc golf courses in the mornings, and on the drive home





The two of us see Destroyer in Ann Arbor a week from today, both Lambchop and Destroyer vacation-listening staples, I've told you this before. This will tie the score, as of today I've seen Lambchop seven times, Destroyer six. I can find no news of a US tour in support of whatever Lambchop releases next week, I would love for Lambchop to retake the lead this summer

As is now vacation policy, I have no plans to post here and I have no plans to not post here, so I may or not react to the two fake assassination attempts on Trump tentatively scheduled for next Thursday and Saturday. and may or not collect and post evidence that we are ruled by motherfucking sociopaths and may or not post photos from the Destroyer show along with youtubes of songs they played. My dam is holding but my damn is, if not ebbing, changing hue. If I play Renegade's Trail I may post of photo of the island hole

From Rolling Mill to Drone Factory
Managed Neglect and Internal Colonialism in the United States
"Recognition that the viral surges of anger and hope between 2015 and 2020 have left little in the way of a political legacy has already given rise to some thoughtful historical and theoretical accounts"
Three Recent Examples Of AI Being Used For Empire Propaganda
We are ruled by motherfucking sociopaths
Elite impunity has fueled the fantasy that catastrophes are for other people
We are ruled by motherfucking sociopaths
The ICE Agent Who Shot and Killed Renee Good Is Back on Duty
We are ruled by motherfucking sociopaths
The Atlantic’s Hasan Piker meltdown perfectly distills elite media’s warped priorities
We are ruled by motherfucking sociopaths
The Map is Not the Territory					The Western Left Misunderstands Power
We are ruled by motherfucking sociopaths
Send the wrong signals, get the wrong society
We are ruled by motherfucking sociopaths
and the motherfucking Democrats who support them
Gov. Wes Moore Claims Maryland Banned Surveillance Pricing for Groceries. It Didn't
What if the greatest obstacle to working-class power in the United States is not the open reaction of the bourgeoisie—but the quiet adaptation of the Left to the very institutions it claims to oppose?
Rage, rage, against the dying of the White
Euro-poor v Ameri-poor		Alienation Nation				Maggie
What the Royal State Dinner Guest List Says About Trump’s America
The Measurement Problem Has a Donut Hole
Your Dinner Got Worse On Purpose
KONG of PAP [re-posted from June 27 2009, with an offensive new preface, to honor the rancid new biopic]
{ feuilleton }			O'Hara-ing		Breakdowns
Monsterpieces: Ducks, Newburyport						Fanny Howe

EVERYTHING'S A FAKE

Fanny Howe

Coyote scruff in canyons off Mulholland Drive. Fragrance of sage and rosemary, now it’s spring. At night the mockingbirds ring their warnings of cats coming across the neighborhoods. Like castanets in the palms of a dancer, the palm trees clack. The HOLLYWOOD sign has a white skin of fog across it where erotic canyons hump, moisten, slide, dry up, swell, and shift. They appear impatient—to make such powerful contact with pleasure that they will toss back the entire cover of earth. She walks for days around brown trails, threading sometimes under the low branches of bay and acacia. Bitter flowers will catch her eye: pink and thin honeysuckle, or mock orange. They coat the branches like lace in the back of a mystical store. Other deviant men and women live at the base of these canyons, closer to the city however. Her mouth is often dry, her chest tight, but she is filled to the brim with excess idolatry. It was like a flat mouse—the whole of Los Angeles she could hold in the circle formed by her thumb and forefinger. Tires were planted to stop the flow of mud at her feet. But she could see all the way to Long Beach through a tunnel made in her fist. Her quest for the perfect place was only a symptom of the same infection that was out there, a mild one, but a symptom nonetheless.