Into the Into

Did you know Dwayne DeRossario has been traded to Toronto by the same professional wrestling bylaws and ethics that brought Freddy Adu to United?

MLS provides critical perspective on the rubotics of my politics. In the past year I spent $60 in straight donations to the Obama campaign plus $40 more on Obama signs to piss off the neighbors, which is $1600 less what I spent on United season tickets last season.

Like BLCKDGRD's new theme, btw, the new colors? Hope so, cause I do. A friend emailed and said, that white type on noxzema-blue? you're good you know, I really like reading you, but not enough to take the headache reading white type on noxzema-blue gives me. I've created a new category, Autoblogography, because that's what I do and I'm not going to pretend I don't anymore, and I've also started the rearrangement of the blegrolls. If you don't see yourself where you were, I've moved you up to daily. Feel flattered, but not too much: this is for my convenience, yo.

I pay Typepad $150 a year, $1550 less than I paid United last year for four season tickets, $50 more than I gave to Obama, making me Little Ruby Blegginghood, blegging the poison porridge that's just right, the bestest rubiest rubity, dollar for dollar, I spend on myself instead of my daughter's college fund.

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• The Duty Calls Model of Blogging, with examples.
• Conciliatory note from an otherwise intelligent blogger.
• I hate when this happens.
• Ask a cannibal, did God ask Mary if he could fuck her?
• Giftmas: a proper perspective.
• Crackerstani youth.
• I've been going to Georgetown (the destination) for three decades and working in Georgetown for two, and once Desperados and the Cellar Door and The Bayou bellied-up, it's sucked as destination. This is nothing new.
• Friday Hope Blogging.
• Seven theses about the history of literary theory.
• Garth's year in reading includes the disclosure he's the first person since 1990 to read from cover to cover McElroy's Women and Men. Let me spin around in my deskchair to my bookshelf for today's corpse:

 

• Toptenpalooza, novels-edition.
• The woodfoodfight continues in comments, in which, amongst the flung nuggets, a couple of comments that remind me I haven't reread Confidence Man in at least fifteen years and any Melville in a couple. Hey! Anyone wanting a free doctoral thesis topic no charge? Melville and Ashbery, yo.

Ashbery? New Ashbery?

ALCOVE

Is is possible that spring could be
once more approaching? We forget each time
what a mindless business it is, porous like sleep,
adrift on the horizon, refusing to take sides, 'mugwump
of the final hour', lest an agenda - horrors! - be imputed to it,
and the whole point of its being spring collapses
like a hole dug in sand. It's breathy, though,
you have to say that for it.

And should further seasons coagulate
into years, like spilled, dried paint, why,
who's to say we weren't provident? We indeed
looked out for others as though they mattered, and they,
catching the spirit, came home with us, spent the night
in an alcove from which their breathing could be heard clearly.
But it's not over yet. Terrible accidents happen
daily. That's how we get around obstacles.

• Scott's got some juicy downloads for you.
• My friend, and Seattle Sounders season-ticket holder, Stevie Zoom's top ten.
• Moka's number one of the year.

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My #3?