Kevin McFoy Dunn
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kevinmcfoydunn.bsky.social
Kevin McFoy Dunn
@kevinmcfoydunn.bsky.social
Footnote-in-waiting (in re v.: music -- https://kevindunn.bandcamp.com/music; scribbling -- https://kevinmcfoydunn.substack.com/) and punter-grade bricoleur.
Matter of perspective, I suppose. From my vantage as an emblem-lit analyst manqué, that looks like a veritable jungle gym of Counter-Reformation iconography over which I would love to let eyes and brain clamber for a couple of days.
November 9, 2025 at 4:41 AM
Does that mean "No Angel"? That putto looks a bit dissolute, IMO.
November 8, 2025 at 7:54 AM
Stunning, the Grote Markt. To read "Tacos" in the context certainly delivers a frisson, gotta say. Could you tell what was up with the activity at the foot of the Brabofontein? Maintenance? A video shoot? The guy who cut off Druon Antigoon's hand straight-up deserves TikTok love, lol.
November 6, 2025 at 4:34 AM
Well, you are able still, because -- and I know I'm being a drag, but needs must, sez the involuntarily-retired copy editor -- the river's spelt "Elbe". xo
October 31, 2025 at 3:57 AM
Golly damn -- disproportionate rage-fugue much? (Love that book, BTW -- reviewed it for a now-defunct free weekly in Atlanta when it first came out.)
October 28, 2025 at 3:41 AM
ooooo bella
October 26, 2025 at 4:39 AM
I must finally address the fact that the pitiable decedent highlighted here was supplanted in short order by the newer candidate for ranking MAGAt shahid, that purveyor of sociopolitical vility Kirk. Predictably, per the top post, that essay in Falangista martyrdom too ground to a sludgy halt. Next!
October 21, 2025 at 3:03 PM
Unparseably monstrous. I look forward to the future in which this trashy, sub-former-Central-Asian-Soviet-satellite's-tinpot-dictator-grade annex is demolished.
October 21, 2025 at 3:24 AM
In my defense: fox? Chicken? Not obvs? (In the event, maybe not so much. ¡Lo siento!)
October 21, 2025 at 12:04 AM
Note to the Fox fox: sorry I in the inflatable chicken went right into the bit upon accosting you. Your vulpine mask hid face and muffled voice (& I also input/output-baffled), but I sensed alarm at my out-of-nowhere "I feel assaulted", and I appreciate your taking it (I think?) reasonably calmly.
October 21, 2025 at 12:01 AM
XPian Left represent ok! (Luke xiii.34, Vulgate.)
October 21, 2025 at 12:00 AM
In my defense: fox? Chicken? Not obvs?
October 20, 2025 at 9:36 PM
I were remiss in my duty to 17th-c. EngLit did I not note that the b'day of my fave stylist Sir Thomas Browne coincided with No Kings II. Empty your mind with this extract casually-pluck't from his Hydriotaphia, Urne-Buriall, or, A Discourse of the Sepulchrall Urnes lately found in Norfolk [1658].
October 20, 2025 at 8:35 PM
Note to the Fox fox: sorry I in the inflatable chicken went right into the bit upon accosting you. Your vulpine mask hid face and muffled voice (& I also input/output-baffled), but I sensed alarm at my out-of-nowhere "I feel assaulted", and I appreciate your taking it (I think?) reasonably calmly.
October 20, 2025 at 8:24 PM
XPian Left represent ok! (Luke xiii.34, Vulgate.)
October 20, 2025 at 8:19 PM
Happy belated birthday, dear, dear Vanessa! Excelsior!
October 20, 2025 at 3:41 AM
Oh, yeah, and: Happy Sir Thomas Browne's b'day, y'all! (Random quote from Hydriotaphia, Urne-Buriall, or, A Discourse of the Sepulchrall Urnes lately found in Norfolk [1658] appended.)
October 19, 2025 at 7:14 PM
In my defense: fox? Chicken? Not obvs?
October 19, 2025 at 6:34 PM
Note to the Fox fox: sorry I in the inflatable chicken went right into the bit upon accosting you. Couldn't see your face or properly hear your voice through your (our!) baffling, but sensed alarm at my out-of-nowhere "I feel assaulted", and I appreciate your taking it (I think?) reasonably calmly.
October 19, 2025 at 6:33 PM
Actually, that band was from Atlanta. Which tidbit of info I offer on the privileged basis of me having supplied the Ebow guitar line meandering through the track and the jangle intro kicking it off. Cheers!
October 14, 2025 at 3:49 AM
I'm reduced at this juncture in the Zusammenbruch to muttering "fucking fascists" and then moving on to the next enormity eliciting yet more muttering "fucking fascists".
October 10, 2025 at 3:17 AM
Ugh -- what wretched luck. Wishing you prompt healing.
October 10, 2025 at 3:10 AM