Playboy Has Articles?
Long-time readers know I have a personal, philosophical, and professional interest in porn. So I read with interest that Playboy will no longer have nekkid ladies in it. I wish I had a subscription to cancel.
To Think Of Time Again
What of the humors and the ways of Autumn?
Whom should I consult? Philosophers
Are happy in their homes and seminars.
See this one with the mischievous bright childlike
Gaze going out through walls and air,
A tangent to the bent rays of the star.
Hear the chalk splutter, hear the groping voice:
Conceive the demiurge in his perpetual
Strife with the chaos of the universe,
That humming equilibrium of creation
Pure and enormous, crossed by the constant
Light of unimaginable combustion:
Teems, how it teems. An elm tree sighs
Beyond the dusty windowledge of June.
As in the mind the notes of a melody
Vibrate when vibration’s gone, a series
Generated by a decimal has no end;
Observe it closely, though; it stops when it stops.
The frail spectacles are bedimmed with spring.
Abolish The Filibuster If You Have The Votes
I hate the filibuster when the GOP controlled the Senate, kept hoping that Harry Reid nuke it, and was overjoyed when he did so for most confirmation votes. The argument against the filibuster that people like me made back then--that the constitution says it takes a majority vote for the Senate to pass something and the filibuster effectively changed that to a super-majority 60% threshold--still makes just as much sense when the Republicans are in control as it does when Democrats are.
How About The Cleveland Conquerors?
In honor of Indigenous Peoples' Day...
...here's an old post on my favorite losing baseball team's shamefully racist moniker.
PS--The dragon game Sam and I play online has a special creature available called The Columbus Dragon. I was annoyed at first, 'til I saw they described him as an "experienced conqueror." Yes, you want that in a monster.
“Jazz is neither specific repertoire, nor academic exercise…but a way of life.”
the leaves are away again, teamed
The sky in pieces the leaves part theleaves piece together. To and from a handgiven all directions. The bark comes frombelow. Takes from the books of the moves underthe sky. Speaker holds up the talks held last.Motors the dust and the yellow syllables.A slant on which was never here oronly partly.
We headed out over hill and dale this morning.
I shot a lot of stuff whilst Ericka drove her zippy new car. Much was blurry as a result, but I liked the effect here: reminds me of a Bob Ross painting.
She loves her Mommy.
Gazing adoringly at her bro.
I just get bared teeth.
Taking a break from tranforming transformers.
Sadie crawled under the table to join us.
I just liked the antenna bobby thingie.
Main Street, Jeffersonville.
Off to the Notch, where thankfully no tractor trailers ignored the signs for a change.
I was surprised at how some stretches weren't red.
By the gate where they close the road in winter.
Then to the Little River by the Moscow Rec Field.
Sam looked for fish.
Sadie looked for perfect throwing stones.
Throwing is fun!
Astonishingly, we had the entire river frontage all to ourselves.
Letting the leaves go by.
A family that leafpeeps together, uh...takes pictures of shoes together.
Sadie made a new friend.
Some folks never get a day off.
On through Stowe.
Almost home (I let Ericka use my phone to snap some shots because she let me drive her car on the trip back).
Looking up from our Secret Path.
Peak foliage was wicked late this year, but it made up for its tardiness wonderfully today.
Americans In Space
PS--This is also the anniversary of Dr. Kathryn D. Sullivan’s EVA, making her the first American woman to walk in space.
Poop In Space
Tucked away in a storage locker was a supply of special plastic bags, each of which resembled a top hat with an adhesive coating on the brim. Each bag had a kind of finger-shaped pocket built into the side of it. When the call came you had to flypaper this thing to your rear end, and then you were supposed to reach in there with your finger—after all, nothing falls—and suddenly you were wishing you’d never left home. And after you had it in the bag, so to speak, you had one last delightful task: Break open a capsule of blue germicide, seal it up in the bag, and knead the contents to make sure they were fully mixed.
At best, the whole operation was an ordeal. In the confined space of the command module, your crewmates suffered too. One of the Apollo 7 astronauts said the smell was so bad it woke him up from a deep sleep. When Schirra’s crew came back they wrote a memo about it: “Get naked, allow an hour, have plenty of tissues handy…”
It's amazing just how much I think about poop on a daily basis...
Snot In Space
Boogers In Space
On the Apollo 7 launch anniversary, we remember that Captain Cantankerous had a cold:
NASA scientists had stuffed the flight plan with experiments and astronomical observations, but Schirra didn't want any part of them. This was an engineering mission, as the test pilots liked to call it, meaning that it was a shakedown flight for the ship itself, not a working trip for the men in lab coats.
Whenever an experiment crowded an engineering exercise, he'd jettison the experiment. When a prime-time broadcast was scheduled for shortly before the crew was to execute a tricky rendezvous, he scrubbed the TV show. "No TV until after the rendezvous," he pronounced. The ground objected but Schirra held firm. "TV will be delayed without any further discussion."
Things got more contentious still when all three men developed head colds, something that can be uncomfortable enough on Earth and is exponentially worse in the unfamiliar pressure of a sealed spacecraft. Reporters noticed the sparring between mission control and the ship and began writing about the "snappishness" of the astronauts. The Russian press weighed in too, pointing out the crew's "increased irritation due to the monotony of the spaceflight and the imperfect design of the systems for controlling the vital functions of the spacemen."
Finally, Kraft broke all protocol and proposed to speak to Schirra directly. Slayton offered to do it himself, figuring that as one astronaut to another he could communicate more candidly. Slayton did just that and later reported back to Kraft.
"I told him that the whole world was following this flight and that he and his crew were not coming across well," Slayton said. "I told him he was trained to do a job and that he'd better get busy doing it."
"And?" Kraft asked.
"And he told me to go to hell."
The suits and eggheads were not pleased. No member of 7's crew ever flew for NASA again.
Bog Road Compound
We have a new Facebook location for our shenanigans. With more shenanigans to follow.
Remember my friend...
Future events such as these will affect you in the future.
Where The Black Shadows Lurk In Languid Loneliness
Not from the first, but now,
Letting the threads fall where
Tangles too bitter grow.
Oh, to begin, and look
Straight into everything!
Seeing without the beam
Of old traditioning.
Zig et zig et zag, la mort en cadence
But Men Loved Darkness...
The world’s light shines, shine as it will,
The world will love its darkness still.
I doubt though when the world’s in hell,
It will not love its darkness half so well.
Jeb! Hates The Washington Pejorative Monument
I've seen the obelisk a couple-three million times over the years. Designed by the same guy who was responsible for marine hospitals and other public buildings, it opened on this date in 1888. Probability approaching one that Jeb! will never see it from his fucking house...
The Holocaust: All The Liberal, Gun-hating Jews' Fault
This is your celebration, and if you don't like it, fuck off
I know the truth!
I know the truth! All other truths - out of my sight!
There is no cause for us to hold these fights and battles!
Just take a look: there’s evening, look: there’s night.
Why do we fight - o poets, lovers, and commanders?
The grass is dewy and the wind has settled down,
And soon, the stormy vortex of the stars will stop,
And we shall all sleep with our foes below the ground,
Though on this earth, we kept each other up.
As our metal eyes wake
to absolute night,
where whispers fly
from the beginning of time,
we cup our ears to the heavens.
We are listening
on the volcanic lips of Flagstaff
and in the ﬁelds beyond Boston,
in a great array that bloom
like coral from the desert ﬂoor,
on highwire webs patrolled
by computer spiders in Puerto Rico.
We are listening for a sound
beyond us, beyond sound,
searching for a lighthouse
in the breakwaters of our uncertainty.
an electronic murmur,
a bright, fragile I am.
Small as tree frogs
staking out one end
of an endless swamp,
we are listening
through the longest night
we imagine, which dawns
between the life and times of stars.
PS--Apropos of nothing.
In re Carly "I know ISIS" Fiorina:
“Isis is not re-enacting the seventh-century Arab conquests, even though some among its ranks may think they are. They’re nostalgic for a make-believe past, and those among them who know plenty about Islam’s first decades have conveniently revised medieval history to fit modern ideological needs.”
As a Republican, she clearly understands the nostalgia for a make-believe past...
Peopled spaceflight is great--thought the crude "manned" stuff had died out long ago.
The Headache That Wasn't There...
You take the two pills, anyway—
one of fear, one of relief —
to make the predawn go away.
The headache is in the heel,
the sore of walking. unhealed, unheeded.
The walking that wasn't there, is there,
hunting, hurting in the thought, the spur
of thought that is the muscle.
tendon, that will right itself,
soon, from disjointed pain,
go away from arch of bone
of time, from twist of accommodation
to its shankmare plea. You will be the death
of me, you know, infect,
in fact, step by crooked step,
the gait of thinking something else
while living what is there
that isn’t, wasn’t, was, and is—
the limp that goes up and down the stair;
the gall of gout of ﬁt of shoe you wear;
the automatic turning ankle
of the headache of the will.
Lack Of Gun Laws Caused The Civil War
[Crazy Larry] Pratt told Florida talk radio host Joyce Kaufman yesterday that Europe, where some countries have stricter gun laws than the U.S., is actually “the most bloody place in the world” because of the wars that took place there in the 20th century.
“What he’s not, and apparently very few people have really taken into consideration, is that Europe has been in the last 50, 60 years the most bloody place in the world, perhaps with the exception of Communist China and maybe Soviet Russia,” Pratt said. “But tens of millions of people have been killed in wars and in concentration camps and if you throw Soviet Union … into Europe, then we really are talking about Europe being just about on the top of the bloody list. And we’re supposed to pretend as if none of these things every happened.”
Pratt seemed to suggest that the U.S. has avoided such wars because of rampant gun ownership, saying, “Another aspect of this to consider is that we have not have rogue governments do what rogue governments did in Europe.”
But, he said, it is “not for want of trying” that the U.S. government hasn’t gone rogue, citing the 1946 Battle of Athens and the armed standoff at the Bundy ranch in Nevada.
Talk about cherry picking insurrections...
I Hate Ahistorical Analysis
No, Gaius Publius (at Digby), just no:
these state militias (state standing armies)
They were most assuredly NOT standing armies. Militias were seen as a defense against standing armies because the former obviated reliance on the latter. JFC.