
Making these headshots disperses my soothing seething fury far more effectively than the grids but people want to see them even less than the grids and I have stats to prove it and reassure me. I said to a chaired professor renowned as a leading historian on American shitliberalism, who still believes a revival of New Deal and Great Society in Shitlordistan is possible, you *don't* believe that shitlords are weaponizing Trump's descent into madness as the trigger for kabooming what remains of America's false democracy forever, you actually believe that after corruptly gaining all this power they will peacefully relinquish it in a world they are willfully and profitably destroying in their efforts to subsidize their survival of their own deliberate wreckage? He would never look at this blog, but he did say I'm fucking nuts. Julian Cope turned 69 yesterday, if this is not one of this shitty blog's theme songs, only a few of which I can remember now, it's certainly one of mine
INVECTIVE AGAINST SWANS
John Ashbery
The soul, O ganders, flies beyond the parks
And far beyond the discords of the wind.
A bronze rain from the sun descending marks
The death of summer, which that time endures
Like one who scrawls a listless testament
Of golden quirks and Paphian caricatures,
Bequeathing your white feathers to the moon
And giving your bland motions to the air.
Behold, already on the long parades
The crows anoint the statues with their dirt.
And the soul, O ganders, being lonely, flies
Beyond your chilly chariots, to the skies.
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