The glaucoma medicine that's saved me from eye surgery (or rather, delayed my eye surgery) makes me always look like I'm stoned, I wish sometimes, but no. I do plan on visiting a Legal Weed Store in Michigan since I now own property three miles from one if and when I ever see the property I own in Michigan.
Self-negotiation with that effing whale novel have re-opened, will I agree to skip the sections of human torturing whales to death to get to where the whale kills the humans?
Separate self-negotiations between *two* Ishs, the one above, the other who wrote Klara
Self-negotiation with the effing tablets on-going, for now until it's not it's here and pOj, complete fuck it at pOj, not complete fuck it here, the fuck is wrong with me.
Self-negotiation with disc golf crawling, I have not thrown plastic at metal baskets since plague's inception, 9/10ths hike first with Earthgirl over parking Roc, doink putt, 1/10th first hike with Earthgirl (Dr Z emailed two days ago, Seneca is a muddy mess and Dietles has been ordered to serve food).
Self-negotiation on this longest sustained manic uptick I honestly can remember is complete, fuck it, I'm riding it out.
Fleabus the best cat ever. I may get to hug the person who gave me the phone case in April. I got Doctor Sevrin ears.
"To put it another way: acute and sudden pain temporarily blots out the chronic complaints that had been troubling you before. Who cares about the latter when a limb has just been mangled?" >>>>
Fladry: a line of rope mounted along the top of a fence, from
which are suspended strips of fabric or colored flags that will flap
in a breeze, intended to deter wolves from crossing the fence-line.
USDA National Wildlife Research Center
I am weak and edible. Some human quality
stays weird, alien to the wild, outsiders,
bad sport with spooky habits not just fladry—
other enchantments against order, house paint,
yard art, border fences and the tunnels under borders,
the amen, the wedding ring, the flavored condom.
The wolves are back. I've seen them, seen the fladry
ranchers tie, red flags' flutter to puzzle or annoy,
folk-work tendered back from wood-shadow,
more each year, abjured with clover.
What I like most about the first shot of bourbon
is how it feels like letting go of a grudge.
In the dream, I kill my friend and bury him
lime in the church basement between sump pump
and broken fireplace. On my knees I tile
red stone back to mosaic. Soldiers beat me up
and called me names in my own language,
this one, the one Whitman used to soothe
the dying, limbless, the bleeding, the infected.
Beat me with fists slight more stone
than the shape that holds this pencil.
A house is held together by shapes.
And yet in the ongoing negotiations between
the world where I hold my son and
famine, bombings, hate, prosperity—
two notes, octaves apart
attenuate what's hidden inside your body
to the invisible. It might help remembering
shadows and not hours. Infinity
also has the contour of a children's game.
Infants remember fladry, safe in the car seat grasping,
Ozzi, our neighbor to the right's kitten, has adopted us, we open any door and in she sprints. Fleabus unhappy, responding to us with furious attacks of love meows and cuddles, Rosie gives no fuck, Stanley - I need to write about Stanley, first to myself, don't worry - Stanley is curious, purring and singing and trilling - I need to make a video of Stanley's purr and song and trill, and Olive is
Momcat o fuck but chill, Napoleon o fuck but chill, Frankie - the most inside baseball joke this shitty bleg can do - Frankie, who we think drove away his and Nap's sister Greycat - I don't think I ever wrote about Greycat, I know I've mentioned Frankie for the inside baseball joke but I have never written about Frankie in any tablet ever - Frankie is an asshole, I think if his brother Nap dies before their mother (an increasingly apparent possibility) Frankie will drive off Momcat, he's doing recon on Ozzi from the azalea bushes, he might be old man smart enough to know his most vicious attack Ozzi will see as playing and kick Frankie's ass thinking it play
Artificial friends, cats. Not done with Ishiguro's Klara and the Sun and I will need reread it again and soon but the obviously uncanny is that of people I love in my life I've seen three in the past year in person and here I am typing at you who live miles from me and have no more desire to meet me in real life than I do you, and I true unconsciously true self-consciously synch with favorite makers and Ishiguro always tapped that Mwah on the my widget until *Buried Giant* and I thought my Ishiguro widget dead, and if *Klara* is mwah > Mwah at least I know that I'm not dead
LotS! of deleted and (omni)present bleggalgaze (fills tablets that have no mention of Stanley or Frankie), reminded I dig Arab Strap
<<< "During his campaign against Hillary Clinton and in his ongoing use of Hillary Clinton as a rhetorical punching bag, Donald Trump and his minions have often cited many of the things you will read below. This does not mean they aren’t true. They certainly are. True stories that can be verified, after all, are ideal weapons for an opponent. It is important for readers to take this distinction into account. The feud between Clinton and Trump is not a cosmic battle between good and evil, but a falling out among thieves."
<<< "Poverty and healthcare assume the appearance of individual responsibility, the state assumes the appearance of an obstruction to open market circulation flows, the commodity assumes the appearance of base survival, a satiated proletariat assumes the appearance of a good credit score, a redistribution of wealth assumes the appearance of socialism, a megalomaniac assumes the appearance of fascism, culture assumes the appearance of a mechanism of empowerment, the struggle against racism assumes the appearance of democratic leaders taking the knee in kente cloth, a healthy economy assumes the appearance of a healthy population, ad nauseum."
Bleggalgaze: malaise and despondancy rampant everywhere I don't know how much credit *I* can take for diminishing pings, I'd like to think it the grid and new fuck it policies, but no
I am nobody is my anthem, catechism, most fervent belief. I build domino chains of rationalization explaining why I explain everything rather than write anything. There are nights I should not write and this is one of them or at least not write haiku, which have saved me hundreds of syllables, I measure once cut once not like the guy made of resiliency in the Federal Credit Union radio commerical on WTOP in an ice storm who measures twice. Limbaugh and Larry King - youngsters, my first car had an AM radio an antenna like a cat whisker, if you are like me and like any sound but the sound of a car I NEED SOMETHING COMING OUT OF THE SPEAKERS best shitty better than no shitty. I had jobs with shifts ending ten eleven midnight, I'd drive moco backroads, that's when it started. Larry King radio interviews driving Big Woods Road from 109 to 28, was him or Art Bell, King, then, by a lot, and I yodeled about Limbaugh's cracker-whispering skills twelve years before my first stupidass blog when he went full Fort Marcy, most talented talk radio host I ever heard. I fall asleep trying to remember Frederick County roads like I'm pretty sure I know the way out of my neighborhood now. Then I remember I am nobody and it's my anthem. Lipsyncher me me again then me for umpth time one two three four five, life in the fuck it despondancy ocene, my dead watercolor palette, I swear the Q and A were a happy accident I'm not correcting
<< A friend asked, in the context of humans on this Earth, if I thought anything is possible. I said yes, thinking she thought like I did that anything *horrible* is possible, never considering anything *good* possible at all, or at most some small anything good but only after lots of unimaginablly horrible things I think not only possible but inevitable
I'd never heard of Toyah Wilcox or knew a single personal fact about Robert Fripp's personal life until Hamster sent me the link one or two or three posts ago, Fripp was Kind to me once in a plantation house outside Harpers Ferry when workshopping with crafty guitarists, HE WAS NOT WEARING A SUIT AND TIE
"So why are we convinced, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, that sabotage is an unacceptable and ineffective tactic? One answer is that it threatens the very notion of private property—the bedrock of all of our social relationships. To commit an act of sabotage is to announce that you do not recognize the legitimacy of property rights; to expose the relationship between politics, morality, and the economic order; and to abandon the liberal illusion that discourse undermines (property-based) power relations" >>
<< "We’re in this very funny paradoxical moment in history, which is full of moments of dynamic hysteria, yet everything always remains the same. We get this wave of hysteria – angry people click more! – and those clicks feed the systems and nothing changes. It’s a rational machine model."
"To understand is not to condone. But if the ruling elites, and their courtiers masquerading as journalists, continue to gleefully erase these people from the media landscape, to attack them as less than human, or as Hillary Clinton called them “deplorables,” while at the same time refusing to address the grotesque social inequality that has left them vulnerable and afraid, it will fuel ever greater levels of extremism and ever greater levels of state repression and censorship." >>
<< "The future of virtual reality is far more than just video games. Silicon Valley sees the creation of virtual worlds as the ultimate free-market solution to a political problem. In a world of increasing wealth inequality, environmental disaster, and political instability, why not sell everyone a device that whisks them away to a virtual world free of pain and suffering?"
Double haiku on cracker-whiperer's death - I'm not grave-dancing I don't begrudge grave-dancers. Crackers denouncing grave-dancers can gouge their eyes out with rusty shitsmeared grapefruit spoons
"The U.S. ruling class deploys the military for three main reasons: (1) to forcibly open up countries to foreign investment, (2) to ensure the free flow of natural resources from the global south into the hands of multinational corporations, and (3) because war is profitable. The third of these reasons, the profitability of war, is often lacking detail in analyses of U.S. imperialism: The financial industry, including investment banks and private equity firms, is an insatiable force seeking profit via military activity." >>>
<<< "And so that’s really a trend that we see increasingly is that our response to climate adaptation by the richest countries is really to militarize our response to it. And that’s a real, as that quote you just read, that’s a real concern because it’s a kind of politics of the armed lifeboat. Where basically you rescue a few and then you have a gun trained on the rest."
"The result is a left-wing discourse that is increasingly anti-intellectual. It has to be anti-intellectual, because its members live in mutual fear. The set of views which might be the basis for cancellation are ever-evolving, in part because of the wide discretion this gives wealthy elites in their deployment of cancellation to eliminate voices they don’t like. In such a climate, the voices that can survive are the obsequious types with no real positions of their own. These people can adapt to ever-shifting discursive rules because they are more interested in having a career than in saying anything substantive. People with principled positions–even people who go to great lengths to avoid cancellation–are likely to run afoul of nebulous rules sooner or later. We end up with a “left” discourse populated mainly by people who are comfortable appeasing oligarchs while trafficking in left-wing aesthetics and tropes." >>>
<<<<< It was Krasznahorkai's *Baron Wenckheim'sHomecoming,* a novel I'd waited for with great anticipation, finally got the English translation last January 2020, my eyes do not have the stamina or my concentration the muscle both once did, between the tiny font and the Krasznahorkai triple freight train sentences, first no doubt bell of old
<<< "Every reader is a reader of crime novels. They want the criminal to succeed because they want to escape, and they want the police to catch the criminal because they want to restore order. The reader has the same attitude toward writing in general. She wants it to be free, and then she also wants to say that the third act was all wrong, or that the story didn’t deliver, or that this time around its heart wasn’t in the right place. But whenever a story seems off, that’s when you know that the author was truly free. A story isn’t a fucking chair. This isn’t Bauhaus."
