That's Kate Bush's new single. After fifteen listenings, better than mkay, not near wow, but never judge an album by the first single. 50 Words for Snow releases November 21. Was recorded during the Director's Cut sessions - and I have multiple issues with Director's Cut - but maybe her new sounds and textures sound better with new material. Regardless (and it might be great, lord, I hope it's great), Kate Bush has one of the two permanent spots in my sillyass desert island five game.
- This is true: news of the new Kate Bush album buys me another day of blogwhoring without confronting my not confronting Occupy. I can say Zizek has helped: that motherfucker trying to grab the brand - I admire the motherfucker, he's transcended self-parody, he's - I say this admiringly - the embodiment of our age of complex superficiality of late-capitalist self-defense of personal whoredom. I thought about going downtown yesterday, thought of Slavoj, said fuck that for now.
- Also, it's not my generation's occupation.
- The greatest cover of all time.
- Occupy London.
- Occupy everything.
- The elites in trouble?
- You say misconception, I say attempted hijack.
- The lump of unfairness fallacy.
- In search of honest capitalism?
- Police violence.
- Who do the white shirts report to?
- Days of rage, evenings of indifference.
- And no, I can't subjectobjectsubject like you, like Slavoj, who can out-subjectobjectsubject motherfucking Lacanians, I resort to imprecise metaphors that attempt to capture not so much my soul as my compromised and circumscribed motherfuckedness.
- It isn't much, but we're paying off our Bank of America credit card and getting one from our credit union.
- Ambitious motherfucking cracker asks for federal aid.
- This is really funny.
- Days.
- In defense of Paul Simon.
- Go team!
- Go Team!
THE MOWER
Philip Larkin
The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found
A hedgehog jammed up against the blades,
Killed. It had been in the long grass.
I had seen it before, and even fed it, once.
Now I had mauled its unobtrusive world
Unmendably. Burial was no help:
Next morning I got up and it did not.
The first day after a death, the new absence
Is always the same; we should be careful
Of each other, we should be kind
While there is still time.
