That's Kenilworth to East Capitol to RFK last night. United won, a strange sensation, 2-0, over Ningland. So I dated it wrong. Oops.
Napoleon is home, quarantined in the small first floor bedroom. (For those just tuning in, background here). He's a sweetie. I lie on the bed, he doesn't know how to cuddle, just knows that he wants to. My face lower than his as he looks down on my head on the pillow, this is the first time either of us has had this perspective. I think he will be a kneader: he climbs on my chest and starts but is disconcerted and thrown off balance by the up and down of my chest's breathing. He love-knocks foreheads. He still hasn't figured out the litter box. Something's gonna give.
UPDATE! He figured out the litter box!
Our vet tells us MOCO Animal Services takes these cases seriously to the point that is we don't follow their rules for animals with animal bites exactly they claim the legal authority to seize Napoleon and cut off his head to check his brain for rabies. The vet called MOCO Animal Services from my house on Friday and repeatedly Saturday morning. I called MOCO Animal Services Friday and talked to a receptionist who filed a "Bite Ticket." I have not heard from MOCO Animal Services. No doubt MOCO Animal Services is short-staffed, under-funded, and overwhelmed. This is a mixed blessing: they are, after all, less-likely to seize Napoleon and cut off his head to test his brain for rabies over a closely observed violation on our part of their policies because they are short-staffed, under-funded, and overwhelmed. Fine metaphors abound.
Have some stanchion porn:
Mr Alarum saw this VITALLY IMPORTANT NEWS! yesterday and Kindly tweeted it to me, knowing I've been asking every day for several years if and when it would ever happen: Kazuo Ishiguro's first novel in a decade, The Buried Giant, will be released next March, his publisher Faber & Faber has announced. The book will be the first from the acclaimed author since 2005's Never Let Me Go, an unsettling examination of hope and mortality set in a dystopian near future. The Buried Giant was described by Faber as "sometimes savage [and] often intensely moving". The publisher would only reveal that the book, Ishiguro's seventh novel, will be about "lost memories, love, revenge and war". Stephen Page, chief executive, said that the book was "a truly sublime new chapter in one of the most significant bodies of work of anyone writing today". "It is as surprising, moving and brilliant as you could hope for, and we can't wait to publish," said Page. In 2008, Ishiguro told the Paris Review that he had "arrived at an odd setting for the novel I'm writing at the moment". "I'd wanted for some time to write a novel about how societies remember and forget," the author said at the time. "I'd written about how individuals come to terms with uncomfortable memories. It occurred to me that the way an individual remembers and forgets is quite different to the way a society does. When is it better to just forget?" Time to reread everything. No sure what order, just know The Unconsoled will be last.
This is the album that's playing in background of top video, David Van Tiegham x Ten's Fits and Starts:
- On data dumps, death states, and "respectable" dissent.
- Financial capital is destructive capital, part one: This continued expansion of finance capital, that which the circular war industry serves, proves Lenin's theory that imperialism is the highest stage of capitalism. Finance capital is awesomely destructive capital, its investments impositions and its creations liquidations. Wherever it emerges, it does so on top of rubble and more than a few heaps of bodies. In Detroit, those bodies scatter on church steps, shivering beneath spread newspapers and flattened cardboard boxes, awaiting precariously the offerings of the soup kitchen upon the morning's opening, all the while flirting with death, and sometimes succumbing to it; in Libya, bodies lie dead, scattered across the ruins of Tawergha, their hands behind them handcuffed by empire's local civilian reserves exploiting the aid of NATO bombs. In both cases, the bodies are very often black, although lord knows not exclusively so--the more individuals capital excludes from its ownership, the more victims it includes, and even embraces.
- January in Detroit.
- Another day of civic activism in Santa Fe.
- Coates, Chait, and the Iraq War understanding of gratitude.
- Maggie's weekly links.
- { feuilleton }'s weekly links.
- The term "America."
TWENTY QUESTIONS
David Lehman
Why did the moth fly into the flame? Was it for the same reason
That Achilles died young? Who gets more fun out of sex,
The man or the woman? (Be sure to explain how you can tell.)
Which is more real to you, heaven or hell?
Why do sinners’ ways prosper? What causes the death of love—
The love of death? Did Adam and Eve have a choice?
Did the Virgin Mary? What are we afraid of, anyway?
Even agnostics have the right to say “thank god,” don’t they?
Looking at these dancing atoms, shall I say I saw a ring
Of pure and endless light? Or did I dream the whole thing?
Whom shall I say is calling? Are you in if it’s your wife?
Are you willing to relocate? Do you like your life?
What makes this night different from all other nights?
Would you say it’s your fate to be always,
Without exception, five minutes late? If you arrived
At 9:10, would the ceremony have started at 9:05
Though it had been scheduled for 9:15? As you walk down
The aisle, and the others rivet their attention to you,
Do you ask yourself what you’re going to do,
As though it mattered, as if you knew?
