What a filthy Presidentiad!
Are those really Congressmen?
Is that the President?
With gathering murk, with muttering thunder...
We will surely awake.
#WaltWhitman #HandsOff #Resist

#Solidarity Feels good. #HandsOff #Seattle

Apocalypse has its points.

Collect ‘em all!

We are whomever our habits reveal us to be. As witness to my own fundamental unseriousness, the only habit I've kept to without fail in 2025 is to start the day by reading a few pages of #FinnegansWake aloud, to the cat. #FridayReads #JamesJoyce

#FridayReads GAME WITHOUT RULES, by Michael Gilbert. A clever marriage of the cold unease of Le Carré and the cozy charm of Christie, these highly addictive tales of intrigue should pair well w/ Thanksgiving leftovers. #bookreview www.libraryjournal.com/review/game-...

#FridayReads WEIGHTS AND MEASURES. Joseph Roth’s psychological insight and complex moral vision are distilled in this pitiable, poetic tragedy, which proceeds with the grim logic and economy of a fairy tale. www.libraryjournal.com/review/weigh...

At the start of last night’s bomb cyclone, we had two Mitt Romney heads on the porch. This morning, one had fled the scene.
Imagine, if you will, venturing out into sheeting rain and 50 mph wind gusts, and seeing the head of Mitt Romney tumbling down the street.

On Strike Against God, by #JoannaRuss
Vitriolic, vulnerable, polemical and devastatingly funny, Russ’s uncompromising tour de force bristles with trenchant truth-telling that will make it a life-changing encounter for many readers. www.libraryjournal.com/review/on-st...
#books #bookreview

#FridayReads QUIET STREET (1930) by Mikhail Ossorgin.
“Strange how fearless the wolves had grown.”

"He laughed with whole-hearted gusto. The preposterous comedy of this gang of criminals branding everyone else as criminals was suddenly too much for him to take."
- Hans Fallada, Every Man Dies Alone

"It’s raining, and I suddenly feel the terrible weight of being an animal that doesn’t know what it is, dreaming its thought and emotion, withdrawn into a spatial region of being as into a hovel, satisfied by a little heat as by an eternal truth.”
― Fernando Pessoa