- Penderecki turned eighty yesterday.
- Decoding the ideological bullshit of a bourgeois simpleton, part one.
- Optimism of the will has come to represent denial of reality.
- Elizabeth Drew's obamapostasy, of a sort. Going into the mid-terms and POTUS 16 this will be the Democrats rallying cry: Obama: incompetent and puny, not evil.
- Foucault (for those of you who do) on the state.
- On false flags.
- Bleggalstuff: in a preposterous waste of time for reasons you don't want to hear about and signifying more to me than you want to hear about, I'm going to create a cemetery(s) for sites on the blogrolls that haven't posted in more than six months. Alright, I'm going to tell you two of the thirteen reasons I just scribbled down: one, Blegsylvania fascinates me - have I mentioned this before? - and two, when zombies arise I sometimes miss them in the mass of the living. No one is going to be purged and, btw, there are three new places added within the past week, look for them as they float to the top.
- UPDATE! And immediately there are questions. The first blog I click on to get URL to transfer to Moribund has gone private, so while the URL works to a log-in, the site is unavailable to me, and the feed comes in nameless. I've renamed it and added it since it's presumably alive (and as an aside, I think I know why it went private). The third blog I clicked on is dead and gone, as is does not exist anymore. What to do? This may be more interesting (to me and probably me alone) than I thought it would be.
- This is on the radio as I type this sentence:
- Why does Metro suck?
- Kensington's best bartender.
- Food links.
- Maggie's weekly links.
- { feuilleton }'s weekly links.
- Beckett and Coetzee, for those of you who do.
- The views expressed do not necessarily reflect..... Adding, the GbV comment has been expressed to me by a few over the years too.
- I think Mary Szybist, poem below, is going to be this coming week's obsession.
- I think Dean Roberts is going to be this coming week's obsession:
HAPPY IDEA
Mary Szybist
I had the happy idea to suspend some blue globes in the air
and watch them pop.
I had the happy idea to put my little copper horse on the shelf so we could stare at each other
all evening.
I had the happy idea to create a void in myself.
Then to call it natural.
Then to call it supernatural.
I had the happy idea to wrap a blue scarf around my head and spin.
I had the happy idea that somewhere a child was being born who was nothing like Helen or
Jesus except in the sense of changing everything.
I had the happy idea that someday I would find both pleasure and punishment, that I would
know them and feel them,
and that, until I did, it would be almost as good to pretend.
I had the happy idea to call myself happy.
I had the happy idea that the dog digging a hole in the yard in the twilight had his nose deep in
mold-life.
I had the happy idea that what I do not understand is more real than what I do,
and then the happier idea to buckle myself
into two blue velvet shoes.
I had the happy idea to polish the reflecting glass and say
hello to my own blue soul. Hello, blue soul. Hello.
It was my happiest idea.
