I'm tribal, I'm shallow, I'm small. I think human capacity to micro-network tribal grievances saved humans from destruction merely by exacerbating human incapability to organize and execute self-extinction. Some guy would shoot an arrow at a fat fleeing me because I'd shoot an arrow at some fuck in a tree-stand shooting arrows at sickly-ass Maryland deer. I've never found peace because I've never looked for it.
I'm black licorice to some; many are black licorice to me. This is not complaint: I like being black licorice almost as much as I like being liked, as if I had a say either way. This is not a complaint: those who hate each other instinctively, competitively, vigorously, teach us more about ourselves than all the love of all our friends.
- Send Arthur a few bucks.
- UPDATE! Blegfriend JRB has a new (second) blog!
- Ed Rendell says Obey the .06% Less-Shitty Rules!
- Good riddance. No hopes for change, but good riddance.
- Papists, secularists, capitalists.
- Motherfucking christers.
- America 2010 (btw, that's Charlie's new place).
- Things you can find: holy fuck.
- One-time offer.
- Is Greenwald beyond criticism? I think his asinine defense of Kos' book undermined some of his credibility, and he earned all the criticism he took for that, but I think he's a far more honest broker than Digbys and Shakes, etc.... which doesn't mean he's beyond criticism, just explains why he might be criticized less.
- UPDATE! Influential left-wingers? I confess, I love reading Zizek, think he's an excellent fraud, possibly the best fraud now working. And I mean that as a high compliment.
- Headline of the Day.
- Or is it this?
- Typepad has been sold:
It's been almost a decade since we started Six Apart. With you, the bloggers and creators, we changed the way people expressed themselves online, empowering anyone to publish and build large and loyal audiences. We thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your continued support and trust as you've shared your worlds and your passions on TypePad.
Today we announced our intention to join forces with VideoEgg to form a new, modern media company called SAY Media. This new company will continue Six Apart's mission to make creators like you more successful. It will continue to help you create powerful and engaging content, and grow and monetize your audience. And it will continue to leave you in control.
Nothing in TypePad changes today, and SAY Media will continue to provide support to TypePad subscribers, and evolve the TypePad platform. You can choose to take advantage of our strong relationships with marketers to monetize your blogs, or you can keep your blog ad-free.
- Typepad does little things that piss me the fuck off - it loses fonts when I change them for quotes and poems, it loses fonts when I cut and paste, it doesn't have those cool self-updating blogrolls like some of my blegfriends who blooger - and I'm due to pay-up the $125 for another year in a month, but until VideoEgg fucks things up - and VideoEgg will fuck things up and charge more for it - I haven't the energy or the will to move.
- Library bookdrops.
- MOCO public libraries.
- Preppy burglar!
- Slots to open near where hunter fell from tree!
- Bang. I've posted her here. Not love, but pretty near.
- UPDATE! I just reread the excellent Bang poem, and I cannot resist saying that the rug-covered table really tied the poem together.
- Age of Citation.
- Serendipitously, two days ago I was talking to a colleague about Cake, as in, whatever happened to...
- More Bill Nelson.
- Yes, again.
- Ex-lion tamer.
- What about the voice of Geddy Lee, how did it get so high?
- UPDATE! Just put in my head: be in yours.
THIS SPACE AVAILABLE
Thomas LuxYou could put an X here.
You could draw a picture of a horse.
You could write a tract,
manifesto - but keep it short.
You could wail, whine,
rail or polysyllable celebrate.
You could fill this space
with one syllable: praise.
The only requirement,
the anti-poet said,
is to improve upon the blank page,
which, if you are not made blind
by ego, is a hard task.
You could write some numbers here.
You could write your name, and dates.
You could leave a thumbprint,
or paint your lips and kiss the page.
A hard task - the blank
so creamy, a cold
and perfect snowfield upon which
a human, its only human,
wants to leave
his inky black and awkward marks.
Another one of dozens of my five favorite songs ever: