when the levee breaks, thompson twins, brown water and snakes
I can't really write, because I am too busy giggling. Had a yen for the Thompson Twins, somehow surged through the thick cawl of my brain, and now I am listening to a song called "the Gap", which is of course perfect. All of my nodules are set aflame with references, starting with the very first time I had gelato, it was in Nice, there were mirrors on the ceiling, I was thirteen. I probably was wearing electric blue eye shadow, which does nothing for my green eyes, I was probably wishing for better company and my mother was probably wanting to strangle me, but gelato was new, was exquisite, was refined like thin crust pizza. But that was a tangential opening.
because I had meant to write about the lovely blue veins that are surfing the swell of my aircastless cankle, and the tendon that glides freely when I swim. Because I think veins are fascinating conduits, why are they so blue?
the bluing in my veins wasn't even in my thoughts earlier, mostly it was guilt. You see, I was going to get on the internet full of pith and snark and snipe about how those fuckers in the red states had it coming to them good, and I was ready to write that all of the empathy that I had felt for the nations in the aftermath of the tsunami and the checksthat I wrote, well (snort) they'll get nothing from my blue state pocket book.
Except the crazy nutters already beat me to the punch, apparently the flood is due to the fact that Louisiana has nine planned parenthood clinics (don't quote me on this, but in the whole state). And did you see how the eye of the storm resembled a six week old fetus (that's unborn baby for all y'all nudniks out there) and it was even orange! I am sorry but a pronouncement like that just steals all my thunder and I rest on my laurel, aghast.
Except that every ounce of smug was leeched from me as I thought of the dirty waters rising, and the photograph of a woman grieving beside her husband who was fighting lung cancer and his oxygen had run out, and if I had left all my possessions save the clothes on my back. Sure, you are lucky enough with your life, but for the perils of bureaucracy and the jobs disappeared. And all of that gorgeous old americana gone. And it is the poor who will suffer, and just so we don't forget the legacy of racism, I believe that is was Wonkette.com who had identical pictures and captions of a white couple and a black man, guess who was looting and who "found" groceries magically floating by.
Our nation is sick and ailing, and it's appalling that our Feckless Leader cuts his month long vacation (what is he, fucking french) short for a photo op and a laundry list of mre's that he is sending south but cannot be bothered to mention the six-hundred plus Iraqi's who were crushed today at the rumor of a suicide bomber. They broke a bridge. Here an oil derek slammed into a bridge. Somewhere there is a poetic analogy, but I can't make it, because it can't be made. None of it is right and all of it is wrong, but Mother Nature is singular in her whims and levees like promises are meant to be broken, but the carnage in Baghdad we can lay at the feet of the president, like Powell said, you broke it you own it. I know I am not a true lefty when I say that do not believe we should abandon Iraq, we have a moral obligation to do right by them, but I have no idea what that would entail specifically, or even why beyond a sense of misguided justice I should consent to have my tax dollars misspent for arms and motherfucking intelligent design. Isn't the Scopes Monkey Trial underwater and can't we all just get along. And please, please Gaia do not let let the rumble in your belly sink my good city and submerge her Golden Gate, I've got no water stocked and am woefully unprepared to dwell in anybodies astrodome.
I can't really write, because I am too busy giggling. Had a yen for the Thompson Twins, somehow surged through the thick cawl of my brain, and now I am listening to a song called "the Gap", which is of course perfect. All of my nodules are set aflame with references, starting with the very first time I had gelato, it was in Nice, there were mirrors on the ceiling, I was thirteen. I probably was wearing electric blue eye shadow, which does nothing for my green eyes, I was probably wishing for better company and my mother was probably wanting to strangle me, but gelato was new, was exquisite, was refined like thin crust pizza. But that was a tangential opening.
because I had meant to write about the lovely blue veins that are surfing the swell of my aircastless cankle, and the tendon that glides freely when I swim. Because I think veins are fascinating conduits, why are they so blue?
the bluing in my veins wasn't even in my thoughts earlier, mostly it was guilt. You see, I was going to get on the internet full of pith and snark and snipe about how those fuckers in the red states had it coming to them good, and I was ready to write that all of the empathy that I had felt for the nations in the aftermath of the tsunami and the checksthat I wrote, well (snort) they'll get nothing from my blue state pocket book.
Except the crazy nutters already beat me to the punch, apparently the flood is due to the fact that Louisiana has nine planned parenthood clinics (don't quote me on this, but in the whole state). And did you see how the eye of the storm resembled a six week old fetus (that's unborn baby for all y'all nudniks out there) and it was even orange! I am sorry but a pronouncement like that just steals all my thunder and I rest on my laurel, aghast.
Except that every ounce of smug was leeched from me as I thought of the dirty waters rising, and the photograph of a woman grieving beside her husband who was fighting lung cancer and his oxygen had run out, and if I had left all my possessions save the clothes on my back. Sure, you are lucky enough with your life, but for the perils of bureaucracy and the jobs disappeared. And all of that gorgeous old americana gone. And it is the poor who will suffer, and just so we don't forget the legacy of racism, I believe that is was Wonkette.com who had identical pictures and captions of a white couple and a black man, guess who was looting and who "found" groceries magically floating by.
Our nation is sick and ailing, and it's appalling that our Feckless Leader cuts his month long vacation (what is he, fucking french) short for a photo op and a laundry list of mre's that he is sending south but cannot be bothered to mention the six-hundred plus Iraqi's who were crushed today at the rumor of a suicide bomber. They broke a bridge. Here an oil derek slammed into a bridge. Somewhere there is a poetic analogy, but I can't make it, because it can't be made. None of it is right and all of it is wrong, but Mother Nature is singular in her whims and levees like promises are meant to be broken, but the carnage in Baghdad we can lay at the feet of the president, like Powell said, you broke it you own it. I know I am not a true lefty when I say that do not believe we should abandon Iraq, we have a moral obligation to do right by them, but I have no idea what that would entail specifically, or even why beyond a sense of misguided justice I should consent to have my tax dollars misspent for arms and motherfucking intelligent design. Isn't the Scopes Monkey Trial underwater and can't we all just get along. And please, please Gaia do not let let the rumble in your belly sink my good city and submerge her Golden Gate, I've got no water stocked and am woefully unprepared to dwell in anybodies astrodome.
posted by emma at
10:18 PM
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