Fuck to the fucktillionth, no, but jeebus people, stop clutching your OMFG!s and howling about Rick Fucking Warren as if this surprises you one onanistic dribble of outrage.
Some asshole who believes he's got The Bearded Statutory Rapist on spiritual speed dial is going to give the invocation for the inauguration of a president of a country where an overwhelming majority of citizens pray daily to The Bearded Statutory Rapist and his bastard son born of rape, and a majority of those citizens believe same-sex butt-fucking is a mortal sin (forgiven in their individual pre-saved cases by the subsequent acceptance of the bastard son's thoroughly un-gay love), so chill.
It's a fucking bone, an insulting, deliberately fuck you bone, a brilliantly pragmatic and obvious bone, and every shriek by every megaphoned lefty justifies the bone. Rubes.
My favorite book of poems of 2008?
Solemnly do I swear and affirm and affix
many foil seals with arcane symbols
to the lividly carcinogenic spirit
of Senator Joseph Raymond McCarthy
of Wisconsin, a state I like
for letting Matt live there in happiness
with his wife, for being the only place of birth
Karri is likely to have. And further
do I tiresomely swear with my face
made up in moral gravity that in most ways
I am fucking awesome
and not a subversive person interested in
or committed to the overthrow of governments
by violence, disobedience or denial
of gym membership. I swear
upon the many stacks of leather bound Bibles
the Gideons leave in hotel rooms
where I often went with lovers
to roll around entire weekends
in sheets we fouled with ourselves and Chinese takeout.
I swear on your mother's grave
and the fresh one beside her
where your father sleeps beneath new sod.
On my children screaming inside me
to hurry up and create them
with a foolish but lovely woman.
On her body's every curve
by which I know how not to grow lost
when all there is to see by
is the moon tumbling from the sky
and the alarm clock's red math.
I swear this and avow that
and sometime I promise
to promise to never violate
the Geneva Convention in all its charming quaintness.
I depose and declare
and many other verbs
which sound wondrously stern.
I lay down with my heart
and my hands above it
and both are filled with blood
and every breath swears its false oath so help me God.
- Footy giggles.
- Wyatt Mason captures an essential aspect of Bolaño. (Hey, ALT-164 gives you the tilde!)
- Hey, Waggish is back, and he's thinking about Bolaño too.
- New things to look at are up.
- Scott's latest year-end mp3s twang.
- Make it stop.
- Obscure Sound's 30-21 and 20-11, with mp3.
My #5? (More here):