Nor Did I Feel Myself Drawn Back Through Circulation Into Reference Until I Saw How Blue I Had Become by Virtue of Its Five TVs

Elliott Carter is 102 today and still composing!!

Meanwhile, The World's Shittiest Human teams up with Dana the Clown, King Colby, and The Big Lewinsky to huzzah Mobamafucker and tell you to Sit the fuck down and Shut the fuck up. Get used to it. Ba'al bless Bernie Sanders, who will be ignored or demonized as crazy if necessary. What is triangulation? The exquisite pain of unrequited love. Also, in YWFP, this: Assange is the king brat, but only du jour. He will be displaced soon enough by more ambitious hacks whose delinquent and, worse, sinister inclinations are enabled by technology. Alas, we are at the mercy of giddy, power-hungry nerds operating beyond the burden of responsibility or accountability.  Two, three, many Wilileaks. Ba'all bless Greenwald.  Holder defends baiting angry Muslim teenagers. Unsurprisingly, Richard Nixon made disparaging remarks about Jews, blacks, Italian-Americans and Irish-Americans in a series of extended conversations with top aides and his personal secretary, recorded in the Oval Office 16 months before he resigned as president. This might be the photo of the year. Speaking of which, both immanent exception and Brutal Police Blog. Plus I am the mob. Plus a song! Boys v girls in Blegsylvania. Please go vote for Jim. Who's got her slut on? A librarian's lament. Twinbrook! Wheaton! Whitman High School! Query Mill Road is Darnestown, not North Potomac, fucking mcmansionists, yo. For your Giftmas consideration, Weird Book Room. Have some lit links. What did Joseph McElroy read this year? (It's been a decade since I read McElroy - doh.) What did Alexander Theroux read this year (I still haven't read - it's on my nightstand - Laura Warholic - doh.) Buy a poet bumpersticker? Don't forget counterstream.
  



   
THE FATHER OF THE PREDICAMENTS

Heather McHugh

He came at night to each of us asleep
And trained us in the virtues we most lacked.
Me he admonished to return his stare
Correctly, without fear.  Unless I could,
Unblinking, more and more incline
Toward a deep unblinkingness of his,
He would not let me rest.  Outside
In the dark of the world, at the foot
Of the library steps, there lurked
A Mercury of rust, its cab half-lit.
(Two worldly forms who huddled there
Knew what they meant. I had no business

With the things they knew.  Nor did I feel myself
Drawn back through Circulation into Reference,
Until I saw how blue I had become, by virtue
Of its five TVs, their monitors abuzz with is's

Etymologies...)