BLCKDGRD

(s)p(l)urge?

Common sense requires assuming the neocon fuckfarts at Fred Hiatt's op-ed page said "Fire motherfucking Froomkin or else...." what, Charles will wetfart and mean it this time?

Why fire Froomkin? Again common sense requires we assume neocons are pussies and will not tolerate accurate, documented proof of their pussiness, yeahsureyeah, but what if...

Froomkin has already shown he will hold Obama to the same standard of accountability that he did George Bush. What if firing Froomkin is a neocon nod they know Obama is one of them (and will help keep their secrets)?

!hEh! Neocons are so pussy they're dimly aware Froomkin's a vital weapon against Obama but order his execution anyway because Froomkin has to call them pussies to call Obama a pussy. Patriotism, bitches.

*

• Happy Birthday, Bromark!
• Barack Hoover Obama.
• Let the good wars roll.
• Why are Iranians dreaming again.
• The difference between Iran and America.
• Foucault in Iran.
• On trolls.
• Here's a line for you: Those of us intoxicated by Lacan and Zizek, worried, as philosophers, at how we might escape the rut of literary and cultural criticism. Don't we all.
• This is your president.
• Just one degree at a time.
• Two minutes by foot from the house I grew up in, underneath which many a toach was roked. With ____ guy and ____ guy.

• Things to love about East Moco.
• Philip recommends Peter Van Greenway, a novelist I confess I've never heard of.
• Another view of Carver. It's not Carver I dislike as much as - sorry, I know I've said this a hundred times - the plague of Carver imitators he spawned. O! and the MFA breeder-kennels. None of which is what the post is really about.
• A reminder that Planet is a genius:

 

• If you didn't listen to this the other day, listen today, please. Start w/Easy, a song that has injected trope-venom into every cell of my internal monologues.
  
• Animal Collective interviewed.
• Today's Listening Assignment.
• Today's Listening Assignment.

UPDATE! A friend just put this in my head, so PING!in yours:

• Today's Listening Assignment.
• Today's Listening Assignment.

*

Lamentation on Ur
FROM A SUMERIAN SPELL, 2000 B.C.

Tom Sleigh

Like molten bronze and iron shed blood
    pools. Our country's dead
melt into the earth
    as grease melts in the sun, me whose
helmets now lie scattered, men annihilated

by the double-bladed axe. Heavy, beyond
    help, they lie still as a gazelle
exhausted in a trap,
    muzzle in the dust. In home
after home, empty doorways frame the absence

of mothers and fathers who vanished
    in the flames remorselessly
spreading claiming even
    frightened children who lay quiet
in their mother's arms, now borne into

oblivion, like swimmers swept out to sea
    but the surging current.
May the great barred gate
    of blackest night again swing shut
on silent hinges. Destroyed in its turn,

may this disaster too be torn out of mind.

*

Seattle 3, United 3

College fucking baseball and its pussy aluminum bats. I'm grateful ESPN broadcasts MLS games, but they can't do a screen in screen? They can't put the game on ESPN News or ESPN Classic until the fucking college baseball with its pussy aluminum bats and pussy double ear-flapped batting helmets is over? No one can say into Glenn Fucking Davis' ear that it's not "the United" or into Kyle Fucking Martino's ear Seattle's keeper is Kasey Keller, not Josh Wicks. (I got up this morning and watched it on ESPN360.com, where it is now if you want to see it.)

Coming back from 3-1 for a point feels better than gacking 1-3 for a point, but I'm far less encouraged having watched the game than I'd have guessed if I'd been told beforehand United would rally from two down. I mean, yay and all, but.... what this guy says.

Here's Goff's player ratings:

Wicks 7.5; Namoff 6, Jakovic 4.5, Burch 3; Pontius 7, Simms 5, Jacobson 5, Fred 5, Wallace 5; Quaranta 7, Emilio 5. Subs: N'Silu 5, Gomez 7, Khumalo 5.

I need remind myself this was on turf, and the speed of a turf game exposes how tenuous United's defense is on grass. I'm not talking about the back three alone (though Burch's suckitude last night gives credence to my Burch-hating); the holding mids are a problem. Simms is dedicated and determined and limited and slow, and there's a gaping hole in the other holding that Jacobson, who failed another audition, can't fill and Wallace, whose tools are pluses on wings, can't play. Olsen, Ba'al bless Benny, isn't the answer. I'm sold enough on Simms, Jakovic, and Namoff, but that's two out of five spots of the back defense that are suckful. HEY! Ivan Guerrero was just released by Colorado.

Interesting that Gomez didn't start. I'm (wildly) guessing that Soehn reasoned that starting Fred on turf might take advantage of his speed on a speedy surface, and since Soehn didn't sub Gomez in when Fred went out injured, Soehm must have reasoned he wanted a full game out of Gomez this Saturday in Colorado and wanted to save some of Gomez' gas, but Fred, why would you start Fred at ten when you have a healthy and finally in-form Gomez?

More N'Silu, less Emilio. More Khumalo, less Emilio.

Pontius is the most important addition to this year's team. Quaranta is the team's heart.

Here's Shatz. More links, updates, edits later. Or not.

UPDATE! 10:22 AM EDT, after twenty minutes, Brazil 2, USMNT 0. Fire Bob Bradley. Why would you start DeMarcus Beasley, who is responsible for both Brazil goals? FIRE BOB BRADLEY! Right now, in the middle of the game. Jeebus Fuckity, USMNT sucks. And now the satellite feed just died.

UPDATE! 11:15 AM EDT. Kljestan off on another stoopid red card tackle, Maicon scores @ 62, Brazil up 3-0, should be 5-0. FIRE BOB BRADLEY! 

UPDATE! Look, I don't think the USMNT has the quality players to beat an Italy or Brazil in an international game that really counts, much less a faux international game like Confederations Cup. I don't think the USMNT team has the talent to get out of group play in WC10 unless it get's both a lucky draw and lucky bounces, but I do think it has an excellent chance, if it goes forward with Bob Bradley as manager, to finish 64th out of 64 in South Africa next year.

I could type, but here's a rant that says pretty much what I would have said and saves me the effort.

Also: Wheaton United? Where? Glenmont? Fuck-Me Jig, mofos.

Reobamagasmdux

Consensus seems coagulating that Obama's .06% less shittiness than McCain vis a vis the crisis in Iran has saved us all from nuclear annihilation, which is just as stoopid a meme as right-wingers saying pwoggles wanna pweemptively suwwender and embwace shawia law (though, nuclear annihilation is .06% more likely, my faith teaches me).

Reminder: I love me some empire - I am invested, complicit, and rooting for my continued comfortable life. I'll do what I can that the lives of brown people on the other side of the world are .06% less shitty, I'll vote for whores who are .06% less likely to take pride in bombing civilians, who will order the military to adjust their tables of engagement so .06% fewer civilians die, but a man can only do so much and continue to disc golf on weekends.

.06% less shitty! Buy into your complicity whole-heartedly, skip the Adjustable Rube Mortgage, and then address your less-shittiness.

*

• UPDATE! Sorta what I was saying, only sorta not.
  
• .06% more shitty.
• Jeebus, I'm in a vile mood, but why would anyone think this would stop moral scolds from scolding: this will increase the scolding.
• How it works.
• Collection of .06% shittier people.
• UPDATE! A pint to the first of you who finds me a link to a brave American bedwetter comparing his fight against obamafascism to Iranian protesters against Ahmadinejad.
• UPDATE! Not DING! but close. What I find demoralizing is how superbly the Triscallions coordinate every Obama move to the right with two pigfarts of stoopider (eg).

• Modo identifies Obama's great moral failure.
• Dysphoria Revisited.
• Obamapostasy. Here too.
• Tell me you didn't click this after reading this quote:

Here is a movie that’s skillful enough to have someone dangling over a cliff with an intestine serving as a rope, but that doesn’t have the instincts to make any of its characters Jewish.

• American patriots.
• Important religious/soccer announcement.
• I posted a link to Digby Monday, and someone on a Sitemeter counter pings back to see what I wrote? Me? Wonder what happens if I light this.
• Look what I've got in my hands:

 

and

• Today's Listening Assignment.
• Motherfucking corporate dickweeds won't let me post this video.
• O! NO! Sonic Youth reviewed in New Yorker, the sell-out fuckers.
• Today's Listening Assignment.
• Easily one of my five favorite songs ever, on the radio as I type this, posted here many times.
• Today's Listening Assignment. Start with I Want to Kill .
• Today's Listening Assignment.
• Another favorite song, on my radio as I type this, I've posted before but can't ever again because of motherfucking corporate dickweeds.
• Today's Listening Assignment. Start w/Easy. Great song UPDATE! Having listened over and over again today, Easy is Song O'the Year so far for me, easy, but I'm a rube for hooks.
• For instance.

Updates later. Or not.

*

e.e. cummings

Buffalo Bill's

defunct
            who used to
            ride a watersmooth-silver
                                                    stallion
and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlike that
                                                                            Jesus

he was a handsome man
                                    and what I want to know is
how do you like your blueeyed boy
Mister Death

*

Mirror fear mirror fear mirror

The insult of the Iranian hostage crisis still bleeds and hurts so good when scratched by America's dick-swingers, their obsessive hate and fear and envy of Iran is in part rooted in their seeing and admiring in Iranian dick-swingers what they see and admire in themselves.

I'm a firm believer that anyone I feel an instinctive and electric hatred for needs studying as he overtly represents what I covertly hate about myself, which is what separates dick-swingers from me, who instinctively and electrically hates dick-swingers.

*

• On the Iranian elections.
• Why not the best?
• Apt pupils.
• Badiou babbles, hastening to say I can't understand a word of Badiou, but I enjoy reading and learning from (and occasionally giggling at) people who think they do. Like here.
• About which, the most excellent thing you'll read, look at, listen to, and think about all day.
• Though this might be the most important.
• UPDATE: Consider this.
• A reading of James von Brunn and readings of James von Brunn.
• Silence is traffic: watch this.
• An homage to World's Shittiest has best Goldfinger allusion since Alton Brown threatened a pear with a power drill.
• Committed to being the shittiest, now and forever.
• Duh.
• Stating the Obvious.
• Daily Obamapostasy.
• UPDATE: I've stopped reading Digby for her daily duh, and I hadn't written about the Palin/Letterman spat because of the duh, but a friend sent me this Digby post which nicely pulls the two duhs together.
• How to disappear.
• Why I've always feared having outdoor cats. The asshole should be buried up to his neck and have his head run over with a lawnmower. I volunteer.
• Hey! Mocomofos! A tribute!
• Gaithersbleh and cat permits?
• My future hell.
• UPDATE! Fire Bob Bradley NOW!
• UPDATE! Look, it's not Bradley's fault his players suck - and O! they suck, O! yes they do - but if the only way the USMNT can avoid going three and out this year in South Africa and three and out next year in South Africa is with smoke and mirrors, Bradley's not the man to do smoke and mirrors.
  
• East Moco boo-hoo.
• My summer vacation - yes, we do the Planet college tour this summer. Just how fucking old am I?
• Because you asked, another view of the Nut Sac:

• OK, so you didn't ask.
• I haven't read Patricia Highsmith in twenty years, but I remember liking what I read.
• Uniformity and blandness.
• Waggish's last thoughts on 2666.
• Snobbery on the Installment Plan (and a follow-up).
• How the Beatles Destroyed Rock and Roll.
• Hugh Hopper, RIP.
• Today's Listening Assignment.
• Today's Listening Assignment.
• Today's Listening Assignment.

Updates later. Or not.

*

Poem

W.C. Williams

As the cat
climbed over
the top of

the jamcloset
first the right
forefoot

carefully
then the hind
stepped down

into the pit of
the empty
flowerpot

*

My head, your head (and love):

United 2, Chicago 1

Really, consider:

The first moment of intrigue came midway through the opening half when United received a gift from Toledo. Chris Pontius ran down a ball in the penalty area and one-timed an angled shot before goalkeeper Jon Busch arrived. As Busch and Pontius collided, the ball bounced wide of the far post, ending United's threat. But Toledo awarded a penalty kick, even though the contact came well after Pontius's attempt.

Afterward, even United players were scratching their heads about the decision.

Said Busch: "If I had smashed the guy and he still has the ball, it's a penalty kick -- absolutely. The thing that is upsetting to me is that I tried to have a conversation with the referee, just to explain it to me. And his explanation was, 'Shut your mouth, I am always right, you are wrong.' "

and

United's lead was in jeopardy early in the second half. Wicks used his knee to make a one-on-one save on Wilman Conde, and a minute later, Toledo awarded a penalty kick to the Fire when Dejan Jakovic tugged on Patrick Nyarko's shoulder as he stormed the box. Before the whistle, Wicks made another terrific save, but Jakovic's actions apparently justified the call.

This ruling wasn't as glaring as the first one, but Fire Coach Denis Hamlett, who was upset about several decisions, said he thought it was a "make-up call."

Which is a shame, because the two horrible calls become the take-away issue rather than the terrifically entertaining game between two teams that don't like each other. Best game of the year pace and energy-wise on the field, best atmosphere of the year on LOUD SIDE! and what will be remembered are the two shitty PKs awarded (and Wicks save on Chicago's). I keep reading that MLS' major problem is all the draws. MLS' major problem is its shitty referees.

Here's Goff's player ratings:

Wicks 9; Namoff 8, Jakovic 6, Burch 7; Quaranta 6, Simms 6, Wallace 6, Gomez 8, Fred 5; Moreno 6, Pontius 7. Subs: N'Silu 5, Khumalo 6, John 6.

Fred should not be on the field with Gomez and Gomez should be on the field. Fred didn't get a chance to gack a sitter in the first ten minutes and sulked and sucked thereafter. Fred wants to be the ten and Gomez is a better ten. Start Gomez, and if he plays as well as he did last night, run him the ninety, and if Gomez is having an off night or gets gassed, bring Fred in to run the middle. (Fred does provide comic relief in 232 as we yell at him to kick opponents ankles and shins in pissy disgust at not getting the ball and..... he does!)

Actually, Moreno shouldn't be on the field with Gomez either, N'Silu or Khumalo should be. Gomez' strength is hitting fast players making hard runs, and Moreno can't make hard runs anymore, Ba'al bless him, he just can't. (There was one play early in the first half, a brilliant ball - I can't remember from whom - to the back post, and Jaime's legs just couldn't get there. People around me were yelling at Jaime for lack of effort - it's not lack of effort, youngsters, it's being old.)

Put the youngest, fastest, hungriest players on the field, players who can run all night, spread them wide, have them overlap runs, and let Gomez find them. The most encouraging game from Gomez since his return. Excellent.

Goff's mancrush on Burch is mystifying: Chicago's goal was a direct result of Marco Pappa schooling Burch at the top of the box. I realize I'm too harsh on Burch; I admit he's probably better than I think, but no way is he as good as Goff constantly grades him. Credit though, as Shatz says, for Burch's marking on McBride in set pieces.

No more keeper controversy, yes?

Saving the best for last: this guy and Bromark can testify that not only did I call Gomez' free kick goal, I called Wicks stop on Brian Diving Pussy McBride's penalty kick. You're very welcome.

Updates:

D's First Impression. DCUC's. Fullback.

O!

!hEh!:

Cristiano Ronaldo is taking his penis on a tour of California, which, as any good tourist knows, is not complete without a trip to La Brea Tar Pits. Which is precisely why he hooked up with one Paris Hilton.

!hEh!:

Paris Hilton climbed all over soccer/tanning phenom Cristiano Ronaldo Wednesday night at Los Angles club MyHouse like he was some kinda new ride at the Gymboree.

(h/t PIME)

UPDATE:

After this paragraph:

But Ronaldo seems unfazed by the criticism and instead appears to revel in how he is perceived. "I love it when people jeer me. I love to see the hate in their eyes, to hear the insults. It doesn't bother me," the Portugal international told the French magazine So Foot. "It's true lots of people hate me but there are even more who love and support me. I feel bad only when I play badly. Fortunately, that happens rarely.

this:

Ronaldo could well be joined at the Bernabéu by Franck Ribéry. The France international has indicated he is ready to leave Bayern Munich and has spoken to his compatriot Zinedine Zidane, who now works as an adviser to the Real president Florentino Pérez, about a transfer to the Spanish capital.

Ceebus Jucking Fhrist.

Our Small Hills of filings fall under the heading of useful by-products

Thoughtful thoughts on abortion, coincident with something I've been thinking about since seeing that ghost last week at the PJ Harvey concert.

27, 28 years ago, pillow-talking, she told me she'd had two abortions. When I asked what the fathers had wanted, she said when birth control failed and she got pregnant she reserved the right to not tell them - and me, should it happen - about the pregnancy, much less the abortion. I saw her birth control dispenser, I'd occasionally in the morning see her put a pill in her mouth and swallow, I had no doubt she didn't want to get pregnant (and I didn't want her to get pregnant), but that conversation broke whatever spell of grateful submissiveness I gave in exchange for her attention - it made me aware of how zero choice I had in all things as contractual terms for her continuing affection. My total and thorough submissiveness gone - it was soon to happen, this conversation was just a catalyst to the inevitable - she lost interest in me faster than I lost interest in her, but she always had to be (and I'm guessing still is) the dumper, never the dumpee.

I'm not trying to make any larger point here other than I've never been asked what I thought should be done with an unplanned and unwanted pregnancy of which I was half responsible. I remain curious what I would have said if I had known and been asked. I believe I would have deferred to the woman's decision as a matter of principle not practicality, though knowing me I bet I'd have argued to have the kid.

Which may be why if it did happen I wasn't asked. Which was the woman's right.

*

• Christian group sues for right to burn books.
• Fear rules.
• UPDATE! Greenwald lays the smack on goldbergian pussies. Gratuitous? Sure. Fun? Yup.
• Let the sunshine in.
  
• Progessive-Ade!
• Assassi-Nation.
• UPDATE! Re: the nonsense at Shakes, THIS!
• The Right, still .06% shittier.
  
• Satire of Death (w/xlent downloadable playlist).
• On the National Review Beg-a-thon.
• UPDATE! Re: this, this.
• Clockwork strip search.
• America's Mean Streak.
• Parts two and three of Jim's Delillo ur.
• A review of William Logan telling today's poets to get off his fucking lawn.
• Streaming WHFS2? First song I hear? Suckitysucksuckity Soundgarden. Oh well, it was worth a try for old times sake, old times that will never return.
  
• Mid-year best of music list includes WUSSY.
• Hating the Sex Pistols!
• Todays' Listening Assignment (yes, again, though not Wussy).
• Today's Listening Assignment.
• Today's Listening Assignment.
• Today's Listening Assignment. (Start w/Upper East Side)
• Today's Listening Assignment.

*

Self Portrait on a Rocky Mount

C.D. Wright

I am the goat. Caroline by name. Née 6 January. Domesticated
    since the sixth century before Jesus, a goat himself.

We have served as a source of meat, leather, milk, and hair. Our
    flesh is not widely loved. Yet our younger, under parts make
    fine gloves.

Our of our hair - pretty sweaters, wigs for magistrates. Our
    milk is good for cheese.

We share these gifts with Richard Milhous Nixon, who gained
    national prominence for his investigation of Mr. Hiss.

We're no sloth, full-time workers at the minimum wage. We
    had an annual income last year of $6,968, a little less than
    your average subway musician.

Our horoscope assures - we will be a great success socially and
    in some artistic calling.

We are surefooted, esp. on hills. We live on next-to-nothing.
    The week's victuals: ironing board covers and swollen
    paperbacks. Our small hills of filings fall under the heading
    of useful by-products. This we call Industrial Poetry. Both
    of us Bearded, Mystic, Horned.      

*

Yes, my renewed love affair with Archers of Loaf continues:

Gros Disparities of Opinion

Had a conversation with a good friend here at Hilltop who knows my uniteditus, he says to me, ten minutes after I read that United has a USOC game at Soccerplex ( !wOOt!), he says, Finally, I can buy you a beer at a United game, we're gonna buy tickets for the Madrid game, did you hear about Kaka and Ronaldinho (sic), and I said, Um, I wasn't planning on going, but, there's a game out in Germantown, unbelievable experience, no beer, but you're right on the field, you can hear the players screaming at each other, you experience communal belly laughs at the loyalist of loyals' yelling and chanting, it's !WITHOUT DOUBT! the !BEST! DCU experience of the year, let me treat you to dinner and the game and, erm, no, he won't be making it. Dumbfuck.

O! then there's this:

We told you early in the week that this was in the works, and now it's official: Former D.C. United midfielder Josh Gros has been hired by 2010 expansion club Philadelphia Union as its team coordinator. Gros, 26, was forced to retire because of head injuries and worked at a civil engineering firm while also serving as an assistant coach with the PDL Northern Virginia Royals. He will be reunited with Union Coach Peter Nowak, who oversaw Gros's development at DCU and called on Gros to assist with the USA under-23 national team.

"His thorough understanding of Peter's philosophies and expectations will be invaluable, enabling him to help assess talent and serve as a liaison between Peter, our players and our front office," Union CEO Nick Sakiewicz said.

This guy (who you can see standing next to me in the top photo at last year's DCU-Chicago USOC game in Germantown) and this guy and longtime readers can testify that I long said Gros was Nowak's clone/slave/dog/adopted son, so though I vowed to not use this toy again until July, consider this an UPDATE! to my post on not going to the Madrid game:

Moodthursdayyadsruhtdoom

Yoko

Thom Gunn

All today I lie in the bottom of the wardrobe
feeling low but sometimes getting up
to moodily lumber across rooms
and lap from the toilet bowl, it is so sultry
and then I hear the noise of firecrackers again
all New York is jaggedy with firecrackers today
and I go back to my wardrobe gloomy
trying to void my mind of them.
I am confused, I feel loose and unfitted.

At last deep in the stairwell I hear a tread,
it is him, my leader, my love.
I run to the door and listen to his approach.
Now I can smell him, and what a good man he is,
I love it when he has the sweat of work on him,
as he enters I yodel with happiness,
I throw my body up against his, I try to lick his lips,
I care about him more than anything.

After we eat we go for a walk to the piers.
I leap into the standing warmth, I plunge into
the combination of old and new smells.
Here on a garbage can at the bottom, so interesting,
what sister or brother I wonder left this message I sniff.
I too piss there, and go on.
Here a hydrant there a pole
here's a smell I left yesterday, well that's disappointing
but I piss there anyway, and go on.

I investigate so much that in the end
it is for form's sake only, only a drop comes out.

I investigate tar and rotten sandwiches, everything, and go on.

And here's a tired old turd, so interesting
so old, so dry, yet so subtle and mellow.
I can place it finely, I really appreciate it,
a gold distant smell like packed autumn leaves in winter
reminding me how what is rich and fierce when excreted
becomes weathered and mild
                                                    but always interesting
and reminding me of what I have to do.

My leader looks on and expresses his approval.

I sniff it well and later I sniff the air well
a wind is meeting us after the close July day
rain is getting near too but first the wind.

Joy, joy,
being outside with you, active, investigating it all,
with bowels emptied, feeling your approval
and then running on, the big fleet Yoko,
my body in its excellent black coat never lets me down,
returning to you (as I always will, you know that)
and now
                filling myself out with myself, no longer confused,
my panting pushing apart my black lips, but unmoving,
I stand with you braced against the wind.

*

I suppose I should say something, so I think Shepard Smith *first* better hire security for himself and his family and *then* spruce up the old resume

ZING!

When they reached the Nelson Mandela stadium, the 40,000-capacity crowd, who had paid the equivalent of nearly two pounds for the privilege of fixing their eyes on the trophy, erupted with joy. Then it was whisked back out of the country.

No one got to touch it. No one ever gets to touch it. "Ah-ah, don't go any closer please," was Russell's constant warning yesterday to the hundreds of Katine villages who lined up to have snaps taken beside the grail. There is disappointment but no revolt; basking in its presence will suffice. "I'm so happy," beamed 19-year-old Daniel Okei. "I thought that trophy only existed on TV. But now I've been closer to it than Steven Gerrard ever has!"

!sNoRt! Full article here, with some Premiership trophy info I did not know. Via Uncle Fiver (you, um, do subscribe, yes?).

UPDATE

Completely unrelated, I just heard the new Wilco single, which sounds like bad George Harrison circa 33^1/3. My review: