Some days, the world is just too much with us. Some of us, anyway. Me, to be specific. And today was so very much one of those days, one of my days. The news of our ongoing national trainwreck got to me more than usual, and if you know me at all, you know it …
I find myself increasingly disconsolate. I have been singing (mezzo-baritone), as you know, in that five-man barbershop quartet, Ring-a-Lung-Dung, which interprets the works of overzealous German nationalist composer Richard Wagner (of “Ride of the Valkyries” fame) through hand-puppet mime performances. We routinely give our all, outfitted in “Scream” masks and tight beige leotards, to overemphasize …
So every day, it seems, someone else at some prestigious news organization publishes some “fact-checking” piece on this or that bit of blustery blatant untruth from President-Elect Blowhole. To which I have reached the point of asking: Are you fucking serious? Because do you think this, in any way, helps? Trump don’t care, baby, and …
These last two days: So first my iPhone, essentially free a couple of years ago (accumulated points), yesterday made its death knell clear, ignoring a new Sim card and all factory resets; it’s now a pre-corpse of stumbling WiFi, no calls, no text, no Internet, no Siri and her prudish answers to my naughty questions, …
As I have delved even deeper into the music and writings of Leonard Cohen since his passing, searching for a particle of solace in what has been for me a profound loss, I am struck, again and again, by the thought that we simply did not deserve him, this sage of a man, nor his …
There are not enough benzos and bottles o’ wine in the world to blank out the Franking obsessive nightmare of frantic online poll-of-polls watching and the dread of creeping fascism as half the electorate happily chest-thumps its way to the prospect of fewer freedoms, and lunatics with guns standing proudly in front of bathrooms to …
I took my frail old-girl kitty to the vet’s this morning for scheduled dental x-rays I somehow knew in my gut would be ugly in their revelations. And they were, even more than I had bargained for, absolutely crushing: a mass growing fast up near one eye. I thought she would at least be going …
Monday. And how. As I’m spilling pet food all over the counter with frantic animals underfoot first thing this morning, the TV tells me that the man running for the most important office in the free world, the man who should recall in ANYONE who is paying even half-ass attention the terrifying trappings of the …
So I could really use a whomping-big dose of joy about now; tough, tough couple of days. That said, what does Mr. Mush for Brains promptly do in such a case? He opens, and reads through, his preferred aggregate-news site. News of the minute. News of the hour. News of the day. News of the country. …
There is nothing, just nothing they can giveyou, not for this. You’ve set the timethey will arrive with needles, somethingliquid clear and final, andsome sorries, surelyso the suffering will go out But for now, you markthe labored rise of ribs, furfloated into every cornerof your life, there will beso much less to clean, feelyour own breaths, halting there is …