Once I Peeked Through Your Mail Slot and Caught a Glimpse of Your Quiet Individual Self-formed Taste

I still think it a significant difference that when people like me on the American Left protest a war we believe immoral we hold up horrific photographs of maimed and dead children bombed by our country in that current war, and when people on the American Right protest a health care bill meant to make life marginally better for America's worst off, they hold up images of Dachau.

Useful idiots and yadda. Basing a moral roobrix on being a smarter-than-pigstoopid idiot is as vital a vector in affecting change in late-capital America as winning that senior year Homecoming football game X-decades ago.

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• Yup.
• Capitalism.
• Capitalism's exploitation of relentless positivism.
• America as stoned college conversation. (And thanks! for Kind.)
• Eric Cantor might as well give up his dreams of POTUS.
• He might as well dress like an ass and call himself Nancy.
• I give Michelle Bachmann credit for recognizing the Pig-Hottie vacuum and plugging it.
• Free-floating rage.
• The British Obama.
• Excellent Bobo evisceration.
• Your Fucking Washington Post.
• Elric reports in from Nigeria.
• My high school (with video!). Look at those dopes in the marching band, listen to their crappy rendition of the Anthem.
• Yow!
• Purple Line!
• CCT!

• While all Fleabus photos are by Planet, not all photos of Fleabus photos are by Planet. Click, yo.
• Memoir's killed fiction!
• Memoir's killed fiction!
• UPDATE! Deep fried lard with ranch on the side.
• Memoir's killed fiction!
• Why does a new Stephen King novel get top billing in Sunday NYTBR, and why does every review of a new JCO novel legally require the reviewer to use the word "prolific" in the first sentence and a review of a Stephen King novel doesn't?
• Jim's got lit-links and thoughts (and thanks! for Kind).
• I would like a place I could call my own.
• Today's Listening Assignment.
• I used to think the day would never come.
• Today's Listening Assignment.
• Pretending not to see his gun, I said let’s go out and have some fun.
• Today's Listening Assignment.
• It seems like I've been here before.

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YOU SMELL OF DIVES WHERE A PRICK LIKE YOU IS HATED

Cal Bedient

Once I peeked through your mail slot and caught a glimpse
of your quiet individual self-formed taste, the thousand pegs and
    pins

I must have wanted you dead to see you like that.

You should always speak the little fires are in you.
I am not diseased with the remark. Love cares to see the blackened
    tongues.

You twitch with a gathering head stir. Yes, free the little speeds are in
    you.
You're a real person when you go crazy like that.

Their felt legs rolled up for carrying, your people stare from your
    pockets.
Stump round and round the world with them, they are your darlings,

they are not sparrows, they are not sparrows running like rats on the
    cloud sleeves.
Open your works-in-progress to them: let them choose their
    mausoleum.

The horses I could eat, if I still hungered for you.
Backcountry beauties farting lush grass.

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Another one of dozens of my five favorite songs ever: