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August 18, 2008

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRG

United went to Chicago and beat Chicago using Chicago's ugly disgusting bullying tactics and I sang hallelujah. I'm asked, how do I separate my politics and my soccer and I say, huh?

Obama is suckbucketful. McCain is calling him (and by extension anyone who supports Obama) a traitor as I type this sentence. I expect Obama's nuanced response promptly.

Fleabus?

Fellow Crackerstanis, I knew Obama need avoid Angry-Negro Syndrome, but McCain is rallying the Confederacy without needing to scream NIGGER!, stroking the Necks of Red with the very taunts he'd use against Hillary Kerry Gore, and rube that I am, this pisses me off.

I've long abandoned hope in Obama's .06% chance of exceptionality, but lordy, his bucketsuckfulness astounds as much as frustrates. Four years to prepare for the same Rovian tactics as always, and Obama thinks nuance suddenly sells in America.

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Updates later. Or not.

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Buying these old farts' new one today.

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What I've heard on KEXP so far is promising, but I'm old.

Eno is God. His great four are going to that silly island where options are limited.

August 15, 2008

Hamster Advice!


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Looking for om in August, Fleabus? Hamster advice!

August sucks. Damn August and everyone born in August. Especially bloggers born in August.

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Updates later. Or not.

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Why should we look for comfort in poetry?

MARBLE-SIZED SONG

Albert Goldbarth

Does she love you? She says yes, but really
how do you know unless you undress that easy assertion,
undoing its petals and laminae, and going in
below all trace of consciousness, into the neuroelectrical
coffer where self-understanding is storaged away,
and then lifting its uttermost molecule out, to study
in its nakedness as it spins
in a clinical light?—the way
we all, in our various individual versions
of this common human urge, go in,
and in, and in, the physicist down
to the string-vibration underlying matter, and
the Appalachia fiddler getting so
(as she puts it) "into my music," sound becomes
a flesh for her to intimately ("in"-timately)
enter, "its thick and its sweetbreads."
Is he cheating on you? He says no, and feigns
that he's insulted, but for certainty
you'll need to delicately strip the bark away
and drill, and tweeze, until you can smear a microscope slide
of the pith and can augur the chitterlings
—the way the philosopher can't accept a surface
assumption of truth, but needs to peel back
the fatty sheen of the dermis, soak the cambium layer
into a blow-away foam, and then with pick
and lightbeam helmet, inch by inch begin
spelunking through those splayed-out caverns
under the crust, where gems of cogitation are buried
—the way the diver descends for the pearl,
the miner: in, the archaeologist: in, the therapist: down
the snakier roots of us and in, and in, the way
the lone, leg-pretzeled yogi makes
a glowing bathysphere of worldliness and sends it in,
and further in, tinier and heavier and ever in,
the way the man in the opium den is floating forever,
toward a horizon positioned in the center of the center
of his head.... If we could stand beyond the border
of our species and consider us objectively, it might seem
that our purpose in existing is to be a living agency
that balances, or maybe even slows, the universe's
irreversible expansion out, and out ... and each
of us, a contribution to that task.
My friend John's wife received the news: a "growth,"
a "mass," on her pituitary, marble-sized, mysterious.
And the primary-care physician said: Yes,
we must go in and in. That couldn't be the final word!
And the second-opinion physician said: Yes,
my sweet-and-shivering-one,
my fingerprint-and-irisprint-uniqueness,
someone's-dearest, you
who said the prayers at Juliette's grave, who drove
all night from Switzerland with your daughter, you
on this irreplaceable day in your irreplaceable skin
in the scumbled light as it crosses the bay in Corpus Christi,
yes in the shadows, yes in the radiance,
yes we must go in and in.

August 09, 2008

Saturday is the August of Blogging Days, and August is the February of Summer

I'm going outside to play.

August 06, 2008

Fine Damnlessness Abounds

Not damnlessness, August's blurry focus.

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Updates later. Or not.

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When a chickenhawk asks you about the existential threat of al-Q:

August 05, 2008

Debate Tips

 

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Obama as anti-Christ?

EXCELLENT! I've just sent Obamantichrist $20!

But, Fleabus, you told me you were the anti-Christ?

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Why the hell did you think I was buying you Iams rather than Purina?

August 01, 2008

And I'd Do It Again

Obamadmiration makes me feel obamasinine, so it's not love when I obamapplaud obamarmy for not just returning fire but opening fire (he says from a completely morally-neutral spectator of game-playing perch, urp).

Obama play the race card? I kinda look like Eisenhower, but a dime's worth shit anyway even if you kept them in your wallet.

If Obama's strategists, my friends, think poking a half-daft ballistically-tempered time bomb is a good idea, I scream POKE! and GOAD! my friends, POKE! and GOAD!

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UPDATES

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Fleabus_will_eat_you_5 OK, click on that to see just how good a photograph that is. It's even more astonishing when downloaded to your desktop and set as your wallpaper. Yes, Planet is a genius. Send me an email if you want it and I'll mail it to you.

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In my head. Be in yours.

July 31, 2008

Reminder

All Fleabus photos by Planet.

July 29, 2008

Ask Fleabus!

Fleabus, if a black man wearing a Che-beret and a Malcolm X t-shirt burst into pig-evangelical church and gunned down congregants in the name of hating conservatives, would that effectively end Obama's viability?

It's only July, mofos.

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In my head, be in yours:

July 25, 2008

Polling the Obvious

      
       

DOGPOLL!
Is Charles Krauthammer the shittiest human on the planet?
YES, and he should be ground into mulch and fed to goats.
NO, but he's a close second to Cuauhtemoc Blanco.
YES but since he prides himself on it, my voting YES implicates me in his shittiness.
   

Today's evidence.

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Fleabus, Kitten Warz?

Oh, it's on again.

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OH! Thurston Moore is 50 today!

July 12, 2008

No One Reads Blogs on Saturday, But I Know There Will Be At Least Two Posts Tomorrow, So....

Obama is vetting blog-hero Chris Dodd for veep, and Dodd’s interest is confirmed. Next season, in MLS, there likely will be a league-weakening if not league-crippling if not league-destroying labor strike. Mofos, you know how rubystupid I am. 

I need daily reminder that Obama, if elected, will spasm Charles Krauthammer to tongue-biting fury, and until I swear off my benefits as drone in this empire, on bad days that's good enough for me.

Here’s my obamapostasy: I’m too smart to have bought obamartinis and bought them anyway, but I’m not smart enough to enjoy them served over ground glass with a splash of Clorox. 

There’s fun to be had if I just get smart enough to have it.

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Anything?

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