Today is not an Egoslavian Holy Day, Lordy, what the fuck to blog about, everyone and everything still sucks and/or is same meh and/or is still unKind and/or Kind and/or terrible and/or wondrous. The three of us are seeing Federico Fellini's 8 1/2 tonight, I hadn't heard of it (I'd heard of him though I couldn't name a movie this moment beside 8 1/2 which I hadn't heard of until yesterday), I'm told it's a classic. I don't see movies. This is not a moral stance, this - once, still - is about I've enough obsessions already. This blog, thanks to the many Egoslavian Holy Days, thanks to my dwindling interest in or ability to re-sausage the daily duh, is what I do, read poetry, listen to music (solo piano, yo, whenever I'm Hey, Sailored, Lordy, love), scribble in tablets. If I gave in to movies (and I want to give in to movies, it would be easy) I couldn't remain ram to the dam of poetry and music, I've only two ears, two eyes, one hard drive, so many hours. This is why I dress in black and STAND for ninety minutes for a stupidass soccer team, why until this past election I only voted straight Democratic tickets. This is why I write a sentence like the second one before this one. Anyway,
- I'll not review the movie. You're welcome.
- I have no idea why blogger doesn't embiggen on this site, and you probably don't want to anyway, but to see above poem to read it, go here, and click mosaic, yo, then click it again.
- Our post-racial society.
- James Comey ain't your homey.
- Federici's Feminist Critique of Marx.
- I know the owner of this blog.
- Serendipitously, this morning, after writing the monologue last night re: movies, I got an email from David Vaipan, a Kind reader out of Fresno California who asked me if I'd bump his Kickstarter for his new project You (Plural), a film adaptation of both Joyce's Ulysses and Shakespeare's Hamlet. Check it out.
- The killing of Wheaton.
- If USMNT gets to Brazil, it'll be via play-in game, and probably not even then. Psst. I don't care.
- I've kept up the the Newest Gag project over on blogroll left, a new site every day through May. I'm undecided whether it will run into June and if it does whether it will be the same blogroll or a new blogroll. Check out the new places.
- Auster and Coetzee, for those of you who do.
- The Milosz is in the mail.
- The weirdest album to ever go platinum?
- New Diamond Terrifier.
- Aereogramme was requested:
WOE!
Czeslaw Milosz
It is true, our tribe is similar to the bees.
It gathers honey of wisdom, carries it, stores it in honeycombs.
I am able to roam for hours
Through the labyrinth of the main library, floor to floor.
But yesterday, looking for words of masters and prophets
I wandered into high regions
That are visited by practically no one.
I would open a book and could decipher nothing
For letters faded and disappeared from the pages.
Woe! I exclaimed - so it comes to this?
Where are you, venerable one, with your beards and wigs,
Your nights spend by a candle, griefs of your wives?
So a message saving the world is silenced forever?
At your home it was the day of making preserves.
And your dog, sleeping by the fire, would wake up,
Yawn and look at you - as if knowing.
