Revolution, Fellow Complicit Motherfuckers!

Eight mile out-and-back to White Rocks from Gathland on Appalachian Trail yesterday.

Today: twenty-seven holes at Seneca (that's a birdie on three last year):

Tonight, after dinner in Chinatown, we see Stephin Merritt plays twenty-six songs, titles A through Z.

Then I Realized the Very Futility Was Salvation

• Three hours of Bowie from midnight this morning.
• Forests proceed us, deserts follow.
• The Gutting of Dayton.
• The motherfucking rich.
• The dishonesty of a motherfucking resident scholar at the motherfucking American Enterprise Institute arguing against Obamacare: In a world of scarce resources, a slightly higher mortality rate is an acceptable price to pay for certain goals — including more cash for other programs, such as those that help the poor. Help the poor. A motherfucking resident scholar at the motherfucking American Enterprise Institute says Help the poor with a straight face.
• Thievery Corporation.
• Deleted extended self-scourging with reminder there is a reason 99.9% of posts on this shitty blog are tagged My Complicity. 
• Today's monologue down in tags.
• Rick Pearlstein, phony centrism, and the strange attack on history.
• Understanding discrimination in the digital economy.
• Science and virtue.
• Maggie's weekly links.
• { feuilleton }'s weekly links.
• Is there DNA in earwax, tears, snot and/or shit?
• Charles Simic says goodbye to his friend Mark Strand.
• Danielewski interview.
• On the Marilynne Robinson essay on Poe. Starting Housekeeping today. I hope to be fair with it, but I worry I want to be wowed too much.
• Yes, I've posted the below Dean Young poem before. I like it.

ROMANTICISM 101

Dean Young

Then I realized I hadn’t secured the boat.

Then I realized my friend had lied to me.

Then I realized my dog was gone

no matter how much I called in the rain.

All was change.

Then I realized I was surrounded by aliens

disguised as orthodontists having a convention

at the hotel breakfast bar.

Then I could see into the life of things,

that systems seek only to reproduce

the conditions of their own reproduction.

If I had to pick between shadows

and essences, I’d pick shadows.

They’re better dancers.

They always sing their telegrams.

Their old gods do not die.

Then I realized the very futility was salvation

in this greeny entanglement of  breaths.

Yeah, as if.

Then I realized even when you catch the mechanism,

the trick still works.

Then I came to in Texas

and realized rockabilly would never go away.

Then I realized I’d been drugged.

We were all chasing nothing

which left no choice but to intensify the chase.

I came to handcuffed and gagged.

I came to intubated and packed in some kind of foam.

This too is how ash moves through water.

And all this time the side doors unlocked.

Then I realized repetition could be an ending.

Then I realized repetition could be an ending.