96F in LA today and its near fucking impossible to breath. The sense disaster is palapable. All the charred ruins. I feel ill. The despicable Bush arrives later for a sound bite. If I said what I really thought I’d probably have the FBI on the doorstep. (Although suicide by federal agent might be a merciful release.) Too hot to write, too hot to think straight, I wasn’t going to post. But this picture of two galaxies consuming each other seemed a cool contrast to the constant fire on TV. But are they devouring each other or maybe making love? And is there a difference?
The secret word is Gasping
AND this is Jackson Pollack and The Who
The secret word is Gasping
AND this is Jackson Pollack and The Who
.JPG)
4 comments:
all good points, sir mick of farren.
they might also be dancing.
space is the place
MH
Indeed...
And, no, there really isn't a difference.
Ta!
I hope it's a dance of regeneration. We need some.
There is no doubt that the firestorm created by the U.S. on the other side of the planet was the figurative butterfly what gave wind to the conflagration—which, owing to the pattern of the fires as well as the three previous fiery disintegration of primary conjunctions (Bay Bridge explosion, Minnesota Bridge "collapse," Grapevine tunnel truck inferno)—is no accident.
No one wanting to maintain the tenuous "safety" of the american public—meaning the president on down—would dare to even attempt to allude that there is a new brand of subtle, seemingly unpatterned domestic terrorism slowly revealing itself. A panic would ensue, to be sure.
I know all too well, having lost a loved one in lower Manhattan in September, 2001; I can assure people that about which the rest of the world knows as well as that which I knew before I came stateside in 1975: It CAN happen here. It has, it is, and it will be worse.
Post a Comment