Tuesday, 02/20/2018

What The Hell Is A Bus Snow Route?


Dunno, but apparently that's a thing here when a few flakes fall.

ntodd

February 20, 2:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The thought of what America

Cantico del Sole:

The thought of what America would be like
If the Classics had a wide circulation
                      Troubles my sleep,
The thought of what America,
The thought of what America,
The thought of what America would be like
If the Classics had a wide circulation
                      Troubles my sleep.
Nunc dimittis, now lettest thou thy servant,
Now lettest thou thy servant
                      Depart in peace.
The thought of what America,
The thought of what America,
The thought of what America would be like
If the Classics had a wide circulation . . .
                      Oh well!
                      It troubles my sleep.

Ezra Pound.

ntodd

February 20, 1:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Monday, 02/19/2018

Now, my perfect Presidents' Day is a lovely long lie in...

G-d bless the childs, following a great American tradition of mock funerals in protest of their horrid government.

ntodd

February 19, 11:36 PM in Constitution, Schmonstitution | Permalink | Comments (0)

People Starve By Politics

Campos re JK Galbraith’s The Affluent Society:

If millions of Americans are either sleeping on the streets, or on the edge of finding themselves there, or going hungry every day, or doing without even the most basic medical care, this has nothing whatsoever to do with economic scarcity, and everything to do with what is a purely political failure.

IT'S TOO SOON TO POLITICIZE POVERTY!

ntodd

February 19, 10:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Burr’s conspiracy has been one of the most flagitous of which history will ever furnish an example.

Until Trump that is.  Anywayz, Happy Preznit and Burr Treason Day!

ntodd

February 19, 9:06 PM in Constitution, Schmonstitution | Permalink | Comments (0)

ALT-4


OV-101 Captive-inert flight #1, 18 Feb, 1977.

ntodd

February 19, 3:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

place of the noble lords

Coming to Sumer:

Coming to Sumer and the tamarisks on the river
I Ezra with unsettling love
rifled the mud and wattle huts
for recent mournings
with gold leaves
and lapis lazuli beads
in the neat braids loosening from the skull
    Looking through the wattles to the sun
I said
It has rained some here in this place
unless snow falls heavily in the hills
to do this
    The floor was smooth with silt
and river weeds hanging gray
on the bent reeds spoke saying
Everything is even here as you can see
    Firing the huts
I abandoned the unprofitable poor
unequal even in the bone
    to disrespect
    and casual with certainty
watched an eagle wing as I went
to king and priest

A. R. Ammons.

ntodd

February 19, 2:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Naive Hamilton

This is a great graf from Federalist 68:

Nothing was more to be desired than that every practicable obstacle should be opposed to cabal, intrigue, and corruption. These most deadly adversaries of republican government might naturally have been expected to make their approaches from more than one querter, but chiefly from the desire in foreign powers to gain an improper ascendant in our councils. How could they better gratify this, than by raising a creature of their own to the chief magistracy of the Union?

But the convention have guarded against all danger of this sort, with the most provident and judicious attention. They have not made the appointment of the President to depend on any preexisting bodies of men, who might be tampered with beforehand to prostitute their votes; but they have referred it in the first instance to an immediate act of the people of America, to be exerted in the choice of persons for the temporary and sole purpose of making the appointment. And they have excluded from eligibility to this trust, all those who from situation might be suspected of too great devotion to the President in office. No senator, representative, or other person holding a place of trust or profit under the United States, can be of the numbers of the electors. T

hus without corrupting the body of the people, the immediate agents in the election will at least enter upon the task free from any sinister bias. Their transient existence, and their detached situation, already taken notice of, afford a satisfactory prospect of their continuing so, to the conclusion of it. The business of corruption, when it is to embrace so considerable a number of men, requires time as well as means.

The same rich white dudes who enshrined slavery in our founding document--and later wrote a shitty amendment that kills kids these days--thought they had the foreign corruption thing all figured out.  How quaint.

ntodd

February 19, 1:24 AM in Constitution, Schmonstitution | Permalink | Comments (0)

Sunday, 02/18/2018

Armed Rebellion Really, Really Doesn't Work

Since it's come up, a reminder: all your stockpiled AR-15s are worth dick against the State.  And that's not really a bad thing.  Figure out another way to fight tyranny, you libertarian poser assholes.

ntodd

February 18, 11:50 PM in Constitution, Schmonstitution, Pax Americana | Permalink | Comments (0)

For hands of gold are always cold


By Symon Silver Tongue.

ntodd

February 18, 12:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Saturday, 02/17/2018

Wir weben, wir weben!

The Silesian Weavers:

A curse on God to whom we knelt 
When hunger and winter's cold we felt, 
To whom we flocked in vain and cried, 
Who mocked us and poxed us and cast us aside, 
We're weaving, we're weaving! 

A curse on the king, the wealthy men's chief 
Who was not moved even by our grief 
Who wrenched the last coin from our hand of need, 
And shot us, screaming like dogs in the street! 
We're weaving, we're weaving! 

A curse on this lying father-nation 
Where thrive only shame and degradation, 
Where every flower's plucked ere it's bloom 
And worms thrive in the dank rot and gloom- 
We're weaving, we're weaving! 

Heinrich Heine.

ntodd

February 17, 11:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Speaking Of Jefferson

Steve Scalise is unsurprisingly wrong about what Jefferson did for America.  Bet he doesn't even know how our First Negro President got elected in the first place...

ntodd

February 17, 9:36 PM in Constitution, Schmonstitution | Permalink | Comments (0)

There was a stir and a sound in the slumbering village of Plymouth

Mourt's relation or journal of the plantation at Plymouth, 1621:

Saturday the 17 day, in the morning we called a meeting for the establishing of military orders amongst ourselves, and we chose Myles Standish our captain, and gave him authority of command in affairs: and as we were in consultation hereabouts, two savages presented themselves upon the top of an hill, over against our plantation, about a quarter of a mile and less, and made signs unto us to come unto them; we likewise made signs unto them to come to us, whereupon we armed ourselves, and stood ready, and sent two over the brook towards them, to wit, Captain Standish and Stephen Hopkins, who went towards them, only one of them had a musket, which they laid down on the ground in their sight, in sign of peace, and to parley with them, but the savages would not tarry their coming: a noise of a great many more was heard behind the hill, but no more came in sight. This caused us to plant our great ordinances in places most convenient.

No, I won't be posting The Courtship tonight.

ntodd

February 17, 7:23 PM in Constitution, Schmonstitution | Permalink | Comments (0)

May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in the world


You can do what others claim cannot be done...

ntodd

February 17, 1:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

the relentless seeking itself

On the One Hand:

The calm of a mirror
as it copes with guilt,
the face of a divinity
brought up from silt.

The Lord of the Passes
observing the rout,
the grounding of Eagles
as the legions pull out.

The ossification of
Common Law Liberty,
the Not Not-Forbidden
not quite compulsory.

The ancestors’ bones
quarried and measured,
the End of the Class War
theoried and leisured.

The genius artists
Policy vanity,
the hole in the ozone
layer if humanity.

Peter Porter.

ntodd

February 17, 12:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Friday, 02/16/2018

There's Only One Way To Gerrymander A Statewide Office

Abolish the 17th Amendment!  Then the majority of GOP state legislatures can even better front load the US Senate.  Just another reason I would oppose removing the People from direct involvement in the process.

ntodd

February 16, 10:09 PM in Constitution, Schmonstitution | Permalink | Comments (0)

Happy Days


In times like these, I wish could live in a gnome house.

ntodd

February 16, 1:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Then fled, O brethren, the wicked juba and wandered wandered far

The Ballad of Nat Turner:

The shock of wing on wing and sword   
       on sword was the tumult of   
a taken city burning. I cannot
       say how long they strove,
 
For the wheel in a turning wheel which is time   
       in eternity had ceased
its whirling, and owl and moccasin,
       panther and nameless beast
 
And I were held like creatures fixed   
       in flaming, in fiery amber.
But I saw I saw oh many of   
       those mighty beings waver,
 
Waver and fall, go streaking down
       into swamp water, and the water   
hissed and steamed and bubbled and locked   
       shuddering shuddering over
 
The fallen and soon was motionless.   
       Then that massive light
began a-folding slowly in
       upon itself, and I
 
Beheld the conqueror faces and, lo,   
       they were like mine, I saw
they were like mine and in joy and terror   
       wept, praising praising Jehovah.
 
Oh praised my honer, harshener
       till a sleep came over me,
a sleep heavy as death. And when
       I awoke at last free
 
And purified, I rose and prayed
       and returned after a time
to the blazing fields, to the humbleness.   
       And bided my time.

Robert Hayden.

ntodd

February 16, 12:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Thursday, 02/15/2018

Remember all Men would be tyrants if they could.

Abigail Adams has a reminder for all those who condemn "politicizing" shootings whilst showing their political cowardice: we all live and die by politics, especially when white men engage in violence.

ntodd

February 15, 10:34 PM in Constitution, Schmonstitution | Permalink | Comments (0)

The Age In Which We Live

Excerpt of an email from the kids' school district:

Our staff and administrators have proactive trainings, drills, and emergency routines that are practiced regularly and taken very seriously. We do drills to ensure that if a crisis occurs, our students and staff have the resources and knowledge to act safely.

We are also working to create a culture of kindness, support, and inclusivity in each of our buildings. Our students are supported by counselors, who are also making themselves available for students to discuss this recent event. If you have questions on how to have these dicussions with your children, please contact your child's school, or read more here, and here. We have an anonymous tip line available to students at http://safeoregon.com/report-a-tip/ that is monitored daily. Please take this opportunity to talk with your children about the importance of speaking up if they become aware of a possible threat that could impact students. Telling a trusted adult could save lives.

I'm so tired of all the winning...

ntodd

February 15, 8:11 PM in Family Life | Permalink | Comments (1)

Batman Forever


And ever, and ever, and ever...

ntodd

February 15, 1:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

One day they hold you in the Palms of their hands, gentle...

Men:

When I was young, I used to
Watch behind the curtains
As men walked up and down the street. Wino men, old men.
Young men sharp as mustard.
See them. Men are always
Going somewhere.
They knew I was there. Fifteen
Years old and starving for them.
Under my window, they would pauses,
Their shoulders high like the
Breasts of a young girl,
Jacket tails slapping over
Those behinds,
Men.

Maya Angelou.

ntodd

February 15, 12:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Wednesday, 02/14/2018

I Love Han, But Could We Have A Lando Movie?

No, I'm not a "Whatever The New Star Wars Universe Does I Hate" kinda hater, but man, wouldn't Calrissian be an awesome flick?  Anyway, who doesn't love that old bucket of bolts, the Falcon, no matter who's losing her in a game of Sabacc?

ntodd

February 14, 11:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The World Is Not Enough

Jesus, Black People, we gave you the unconstitutional 13th Amendment, the shortest month of the year, and more than one Blade movie.  What the fuck more do you want?  Ildris Elba as Bond?

ntodd

February 14, 10:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

BPM 37093


Look for the girl with the collapsed sun in her eye...

ntodd

February 14, 1:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Soon, some of us bused south with SNCC and CORE.

Nights of 1964—1966: The Old Reliable:

White decorators interested in Art,
Black file clerks with theatrical ambitions,
kids making pharmaceutical revisions
in journals Comp. instructors urged they start,
the part-Cherokee teenage genius (maybe),
the secretary who hung out with fairies,
the copywriter wanting to know, where is
my husband? the soprano with the baby,
all drank draft beer or lethal sweet Manhattans
or improvised concoctions with tequila
in summer when, from Third Street, we could feel a   
night breeze waft in whose fragrances were Latin.
The place was run by Polish refugees:
squat Margie, gaunt Speedy (whose sobriquet
transliterated what?). He’d brought his play
from Łódź. After a while, we guessed Margie’s
illiteracy was why he cashed checks
and she perched near the threshold to ban pros,
the underage, the fugitive, and those
arrayed impertinently to their sex.
The bar was talk and cruising; in the back
room, we danced: Martha and the Vandellas,
Smokey and the Miracles, while sellers
and buyers changed crisp tens for smoke and smack.
Some came in after work, some after supper,
plumage replenished to meet who knew who.

Marilyn Hacker.

ntodd

February 14, 12:22 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Tuesday, 02/13/2018

It Can't Happen Here Again

It began on this date:

The genius and fearlessness of Rev. James Lawson and the young men and women who followed him are the touchstones of this pivotal chapter of the American civil rights struggle. Inspired by his studies in India of Gandhi's work, as well as the Montgomery, Alabama bus boycott led by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Lawson begins in 1960 to train black and white college students in nonviolent methods to desegregate downtown Nashville, Tennessee. The students stage a sit-in at segregated city lunch counters in February 1960.

First they are ignored, but when they return again and again, they are beaten and jailed. The resulting outrage in the African American community leads to a boycott of downtown stores; many whites stay away as well, disturbed by the brutality and disruption. Business leaders apply pressure for a political solution, and bombing of a prominent black lawyer's house prompts the students to march on city hall and confront the mayor. After he is forced to admit that segregation is wrong, Nashville begins to desegregate.

Following on the heels of Greensboro, this series of actions provides yet another example of how people can collectively resist evil.  well, how people used to...

ntodd

February 13, 11:15 PM in Pax Americana | Permalink | Comments (1)