Earlier, a Deer Stood by the Side of the Road Deciding Whether or Not to Kill Me. I Cannot Blame Her, I Cannot Blame Anyone

• So that happened yesterday. Without forethought, without thinking, blam. Cull this asshole too.
• FWIW, there's no way I'm responding further.
• To all the possible lines of thought and debate, all the possible responses, Death to the Either/Or.
• The Beautiful Changes.
• Fuck me.

• Helix the Cat.
• Red Right Hand. Yes, the Cave song is referenced.
• When people and societies change.
• The War on Leftist Academics.
• Not Watergate.
• USA! USA!
• Fake News! Death to the Either/Or forever and yadda, whatever Brazille's motives are you can trust they are not honorable.
• Whatcha gonna do when the neeradaouwalshes start adulating Sanders? 
• Kidding. Watch Martin O'Malley's name float like a turd to the top.
• Weary but still necessary reminder: Fuck Democrats.
• Also too.
• Weened on Hallowed Wood.
• Giovanni's latest from Dante's Hell.
• Another way of speaking and thinking.
• Live Sparks, recorded Sparks, youtubes of Sparks (including this, a Bleggalgazing Anthem):

PUT THE LOAD ON ME

    
Nick Flynn

Here, at
your feet, all the gargoyles of heaven—

kneel upon your furnace, their tongues

worship you. You can love only one, the one

you rest your hand upon, his head so

sharp, his sulphur breath...Even now a saint

makes his way up your steps, on his

knees he is coming, he will find you,

with his sword he will kill the beasts, all of them—

he swears this will save you.

                            •

Earlier, a deer stood by the side of the road

deciding whether or not to kill me. I cannot

blame her, I cannot blame anyone—many

animals were hurt in the production of this book

just as many trees were hurt & all

the clouds. Open any book

& the cloud above you bursts into

flame, you know this & yet nothing

stops you, the sky stuck to the end of your finger

as you point to it.

                                  •

This is how it works—the master does not

bow before his servant, he does not

stand naked before her robes, his hands

are empty yet he does not offer—

not even a cupful—of his emptiness,

how could he? How could

the world then keep spinning? He made his money

(as they say) the old-fashioned way, meaning

he earned it, meaning slaves, meaning

go fuck yourself.

                                     •

Geometry deals with properties of space. Figs

(a "multiple fruit") are like strawberries

only inside out—its skin is

a receptacle. Saint Francis didn't eat

for forty days, until his body erupted & now

we call it ecstasy. Years later

Frankenstein found a way

to raise the dead. Friend, his creation

mutters, flower.

                                         •

A storm will come the radio says find a ditch

& lie facedown in it. Find your ditch & lie

facedown & pray we will all lie down

& pray after all there's only so many places

to hide. We all need help the land is vast

& dense & full of eyes & so many flowers the soil

inside us is darker than oil lie down in it

& pray.

                                             •

Remember: it's not that everything has to look like

something else, or even remind you

of something else—everything

is something else. This is the story

we've been telling ourselves

since we could speak. Possess

nothing, Francis says. Do good

everywhere. No one believes

those wings will lift you.