BLCKDGRD

Almost Last Call

Thanks to all who have already moved with me to the new place. I will post a couple of reminders over the next month, but as far as original content, music, links, etc, I will only be posting at

BLCKDGRD.COM

Thanks in advance for going there.

United Stated

This season's
(and next year's)

United obituary

at the new place.

Thanks to everyone who's moved their bookmarks, blogrolls, and readers. Please tag along the rest of you.

And You Alone in Federal Prison Saying That the Whole State Is Based on Larceny, Christ Who Didn't Know That, Steve?

Hey, new post, links, poem,
music, at the NEW PLACE.

Thanks to everyone who's moved their bookmarks, blogrolls, and readers. Please tag along the rest of you.

Born Eighty-Five Years Ago Today

Luciano Berio.

United 2, Toronto 3

Hey Man, game post is over at the NEW PLACE. Thanks if you've already moved your bookmarks, blogrolls, and eyes over there, thanks in advance in hopes that you do if you haven't.

Did You Know Washington DC Has a Professional Soccer Team?

On Moreno's last game.

For those of you who read me for soccer only - who hate the politics, hate the other stuff - and who've bookmarked or blogrolled or readered me at the DCU category level, I've moved HERE and set up a label DCU so you can do the same there.

Long story short: typepad can't do what blogger does re: make blogging easier for me. I'm selfish this way. Thanks in advance for tagging along.

The Piano Stands There in the Dark Like a Boy with an Orchid

Thank you everyone who's taken the time to swap out bookmarks, blogrolls, and readers. Thank you everyone who still might swap our bookmarks, blogrolls, and readers, in hope that you do.

New stuff at the new place.

Look It Can Give Us Hope Against the Very Winds that We Batter Against It

Thank you everyone who's taken the time to swap out bookmarks, blogrolls, and readers. Thank you everyone who still might swap our bookmarks, blogrolls, and readers, in hope that you do.

New stuff at the new place.

Their Sons Grow Suicidally Beautiful at the Beginning of October, and Gallop Terribly Against Each Other's Bodies

I'm amused and fascinated by the firestorm in the NFL over players, who are taught from pee-wee to high school to college to the pros that spectacular hits are the road to getting paid, suddenly being told they can't do what they've been trained and coached and paid to do (there's profit in those spectator hits) and worse, having the characters impugned by the very owners who pay them for (and profit by) the spectacular hits. It’s as if the viciousness the league has inculcated and marketed for decades is suddenly endangered by its own reckless success; it’s not surprising the owners seek to punish the players for the players' moral failure in carrying out the orders of the owners.

The NFL owners and its players union after this season will almost certainly have a labor stoppage, probably an owners' lockout, and I've heard predictions that the owners' insistence that the players give back every single penny of debt the owners racked up themselves on stupid contracts and debt service will result in the cancellation of the entire season. The owners who today cry about helmet-to-helmet hits will in the next sentence extol the benefit of an 18 game schedule on 16 game pay. Concern with labor's problems runs that deep.

Fine metaphors abound! DC afternoon rush, local sports radio, the Conservative of the two hosts, on issue after issue between the players and the owners, agrees with motherfucking me! If it was the teachers union, if it was coal-miners, if it was the union that cleans his hotel room while he's on location at the Super Bowl, guess which side he's on. Janitors don't entertain him.

Watching the NFL owners fuck up one of the few money-making cash cows left in Bubbleville will be as educational as enjoyable. Watch, listen: an empire imploding, America in a terrarium.

*

Links, music, poem at the

NEW PLACE

I know it's a pain in the ass, but please adjust your bookmarks, blogrolls, and readers.  

THANK YOU VERY MUCH.



Green KnowsThat This Other Cat Is an Hallucination

Somebody named Graham E. Fuller in his new book (which I saw on the new book shelf, held in my hands last week for the seconds it took to read the cover, back, and inside-flaps then put it down), A World Without Islam:

There is a further irony here: How can a nation like the US, which expresses such powerful outpourings of patriotism and ubiquitous unfurling of the flag on all occasions, seem quite obtuse to the existence of nationalism and patriotism in other countries? Washington never fared very well in the Cold War in understanding the motives and emotions of the nonaligned world; it dismissed or even suppressed inconvenient local nationalist aspirations, thereby ending up pushing a large grouping of countries toward greater sympathy with the Soviet Union. This was a kind of strategic blindness ...

What? America's not "obtuse to the existence of nationalism and patriotism in other countries," America pisses its fucking pants at "the existence of nationalism and patriotism in other countries." Gleefully.

America creates rabid nationalism and patriotism in The Other, and here's the thing, it does exist. Charles World's Shittiest Human Krauthammer should be scared of the Iranian Charles World's Shittiest Human Krauthammer who's scared of ours, and both are just motherfucking propagandists who believe the other is every bit as shitty as himself and !!!, maybe more! Corporate may not weep at the crude sentimentality of their marketing (I think they do), but they're pantsful convinced of the assholosity of their opposite assholes, and they're certainly correct to fearmonger the other camps' nationalism and patriotism to their camp's sanctimoniously fearmongering nationalists and patroits as greased compliance.

 

MORE, LINKS, MUSIC, POEM at the

 

NEW PLACE.

 

I know it's a pain in the ass, but please adjust your bookmarks, blogrolls, and readers.  

THANK YOU VERY MUCH.