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Tuesday, March 02, 2010
Sorry for the Sudden Format Shift
I didn't like how the last page loaded and wanted to change things around a bit. Let me know what you think of the new format.
News Poems are below.
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News Poems are below.
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Revenge of the Mud People [Today's News Poem, March 2, 2010]
Revenge of the Mud People [Today's News Poem, March 2, 2010]
“Because of this buffering action, culture was thought to have blunted the rate of human evolution, or even brought it to a halt, in the distant past.”
--Nicholas Wade, March 1, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/02/science/02evo.html?8dpc
Eugenicists have often said
Our species weakens as it's bred
With imbeciles who reproduce
At faster rates; and thus reduce
Intelligence collectively.
At times the masters actively
Conspire to cull a populace.
I say we find the proper place
For every trait—from theft to art.
The brain survives on other parts:
A plague could kill most humankind,
Exterminate our finest minds—
For now, on tech we might depend;
But when it's gone, what's left to fend
For us but selves? Our cells, our genes,
Our friends, our clans—our very means
Of life depends on traits unknown
Since death cares not for what we hone.
And since in death and life the test
Of merit lies—in not who's best,
But rather those who live in peace
And leave behind no single piece
Of who we are, or were, or seek
To be—in those who shelter weak
And gentle beings—in them our blood's
Ennobled: lifted from the mud.
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“Because of this buffering action, culture was thought to have blunted the rate of human evolution, or even brought it to a halt, in the distant past.”
--Nicholas Wade, March 1, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/02/science/02evo.html?8dpc
Eugenicists have often said
Our species weakens as it's bred
With imbeciles who reproduce
At faster rates; and thus reduce
Intelligence collectively.
At times the masters actively
Conspire to cull a populace.
I say we find the proper place
For every trait—from theft to art.
The brain survives on other parts:
A plague could kill most humankind,
Exterminate our finest minds—
For now, on tech we might depend;
But when it's gone, what's left to fend
For us but selves? Our cells, our genes,
Our friends, our clans—our very means
Of life depends on traits unknown
Since death cares not for what we hone.
And since in death and life the test
Of merit lies—in not who's best,
But rather those who live in peace
And leave behind no single piece
Of who we are, or were, or seek
To be—in those who shelter weak
And gentle beings—in them our blood's
Ennobled: lifted from the mud.
Subscribe in a reader
Okay the Clock is Ticking... I'm Starting the News Poem
I'll start giving you all schedules in the am so you have a better sense of Today's News Poem's ETA.
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Monday, March 01, 2010
Fraternizing With the Help [Today's News Poem, March 1, 2010]
Fraternizing With the Help [Today's News Poem, March 1, 2010]
“One man says that the real crisis is about to begin, with people out of work and hungry.”
http://www1.voanews.com/english/news/americas/Chile-Battles-Lawlessness-Desperation-After-Massive-Earthquake-85842342.html
“It was still unclear how many people died in Dichato, where distraught residents wandered the picturesque tourist town trying to salvage possessions and gazing at their ruined homes in scenes reminiscent of the Asian tsunami in 2004 that smashed into coastlines from Thailand to India.”
--Mario Naranjo, Mon Mar 1, 2010 2:25pm EST
http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE6204CB20100301
“Economists' confidence in Chile's ability to bounce back from the earthquake has been strengthened by the fact its copper mines suffered minimum damage, and soon resumed operations. ”
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/8543816.stm
A fool takes torch to that which nature yet abhors.
Why burn or blast a place that wilts by self's accord?
When quakes, tornadoes, floods ensure whatever shore
Or neighborhood the wealthy—who are simply bored—
Desire, they get, then who needs legal theft? The shock
Of quakes can do what we would have to pay, for free.
It's true the poor are drowned again—with ink—but stocks
Appreciate post-bounce. This rising tide—it frees
A market force. Renewed. The people are renewed
With fops who found their homes on graves and rubble-bones.
The highest use for anything is wealth. Denude
The land of serfs with surf, replaced with finer tones
Of speech and class—they've carried me on broken spines
Around the world: a working man will tend not whine.
Now carry me to bed anon—I'm drunk on wine.
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“One man says that the real crisis is about to begin, with people out of work and hungry.”
http://www1.voanews.com/english/news/americas/Chile-Battles-Lawlessness-Desperation-After-Massive-Earthquake-85842342.html
“It was still unclear how many people died in Dichato, where distraught residents wandered the picturesque tourist town trying to salvage possessions and gazing at their ruined homes in scenes reminiscent of the Asian tsunami in 2004 that smashed into coastlines from Thailand to India.”
--Mario Naranjo, Mon Mar 1, 2010 2:25pm EST
http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE6204CB20100301
“Economists' confidence in Chile's ability to bounce back from the earthquake has been strengthened by the fact its copper mines suffered minimum damage, and soon resumed operations. ”
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/8543816.stm
A fool takes torch to that which nature yet abhors.
Why burn or blast a place that wilts by self's accord?
When quakes, tornadoes, floods ensure whatever shore
Or neighborhood the wealthy—who are simply bored—
Desire, they get, then who needs legal theft? The shock
Of quakes can do what we would have to pay, for free.
It's true the poor are drowned again—with ink—but stocks
Appreciate post-bounce. This rising tide—it frees
A market force. Renewed. The people are renewed
With fops who found their homes on graves and rubble-bones.
The highest use for anything is wealth. Denude
The land of serfs with surf, replaced with finer tones
Of speech and class—they've carried me on broken spines
Around the world: a working man will tend not whine.
Now carry me to bed anon—I'm drunk on wine.
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Sunday, February 28, 2010
The Bridge of Babel [Warmup News Poem, Feb 28, 2010]
The Bridge of Babel [Warmup News Poem, Feb 28, 2010]
“"Starbucks is a special target because it's from the hippie West Coast, and a lot of dedicated consumers who pay $4 for coffee have expectations that Starbucks would ban guns. And here they aren't," said John Bruce, a political science professor at the University of Mississippi who is an expert in gun policy.”
– GREG BLUESTEIN, Associated Press Writer, Sunday, February 28, 2010
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/n/a/2010/02/28/state/n105757S94.DTL&tsp=1
In olden times, a staff or spear
Weren't optional. The murder rate?
It topped all other deaths. The fear
Of states of nature—bloody fates—
Inspired the law and other tools
With which to tame our slaughter-ways
Like Bruegel's Babel: built by fools
Who loathed to give abstractions praise
And much preferred to raise themselves
By corridor and minaret
Above the swords. Commanding shelves
And astrolabes they thought made pets
Of stars, they charted course through space.
Departments manage mobs of folk,
Disarmed by this machine of arms,
This tower signaling our cause:
“Defer to experts. Stay on farms.
Disarm yourself. Obey our laws.”
Through habit most still don this yoke,
But others keenly feel its choke
And fight against a false facade.
This normalcy is rather odd.
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“"Starbucks is a special target because it's from the hippie West Coast, and a lot of dedicated consumers who pay $4 for coffee have expectations that Starbucks would ban guns. And here they aren't," said John Bruce, a political science professor at the University of Mississippi who is an expert in gun policy.”
– GREG BLUESTEIN, Associated Press Writer, Sunday, February 28, 2010
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/n/a/2010/02/28/state/n105757S94.DTL&tsp=1
In olden times, a staff or spear
Weren't optional. The murder rate?
It topped all other deaths. The fear
Of states of nature—bloody fates—
Inspired the law and other tools
With which to tame our slaughter-ways
Like Bruegel's Babel: built by fools
Who loathed to give abstractions praise
And much preferred to raise themselves
By corridor and minaret
Above the swords. Commanding shelves
And astrolabes they thought made pets
Of stars, they charted course through space.
Departments manage mobs of folk,
Disarmed by this machine of arms,
This tower signaling our cause:
“Defer to experts. Stay on farms.
Disarm yourself. Obey our laws.”
Through habit most still don this yoke,
But others keenly feel its choke
And fight against a false facade.
This normalcy is rather odd.
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Saturday, February 27, 2010
Dodging Nature [Bonus News Poem Feb 27, 2010]
Dodging Nature [Bonus News Poem Feb 27, 2010]
“Gerard Fryer, a geophysicist at the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center in Ewa Beach, Hawaii, told The Associated Press that the state had “dodged a bullet” after a major earthquake in Chile a half-day earlier had caused tsunami warnings to be issued for most of the Pacific basin.”
--Charles E. Roessler and Eric Lipton, New York Times, February 27, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/28/us/28warning.html
When ocean yawns, it stretches tips of waves
Before emerging from the depths with tides
And swells that carve the land: the grotto-caves,
The beasts the plants: the sea discerns no sides.
The water threatens everything—and yet
Despite its threat, the drowning's just a pet
Of continents, of moon, of unknown types
Of influence we've yet to understand—
A force indifferent to flags and stripes:
To reason, God; or any hopeful brand
Of humanism touting our control.
We lie for peace. So what? It might console
Our kids. Who cares what humankind extols?
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“Gerard Fryer, a geophysicist at the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center in Ewa Beach, Hawaii, told The Associated Press that the state had “dodged a bullet” after a major earthquake in Chile a half-day earlier had caused tsunami warnings to be issued for most of the Pacific basin.”
--Charles E. Roessler and Eric Lipton, New York Times, February 27, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/28/us/28warning.html
When ocean yawns, it stretches tips of waves
Before emerging from the depths with tides
And swells that carve the land: the grotto-caves,
The beasts the plants: the sea discerns no sides.
The water threatens everything—and yet
Despite its threat, the drowning's just a pet
Of continents, of moon, of unknown types
Of influence we've yet to understand—
A force indifferent to flags and stripes:
To reason, God; or any hopeful brand
Of humanism touting our control.
We lie for peace. So what? It might console
Our kids. Who cares what humankind extols?
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Failure to Thrive [Today's News Sonnet, Feb 27, 2010]
Failure to Thrive [Today's News Sonnet, Feb 27, 2010]
“The 8.8 magnitude earthquake that struck off coastal Chile in the early hours of the morning is one of the biggest temblors anywhere in more than a century. ”
–Gautam Naik, Wall Street Journal, FEBRUARY 27, 2010, 3:44 P.M. ET
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704231304575091611248294970.html?mod=rss_Today%27s_Most_Popular
“"From our human perspective with our relatively short and incomplete memories and better and better communications around the world, we hear about more earthquakes and it seems like they are more frequent," Arrowsmith said. "But this is probably not any indication of a global change in earthquake rate of significance."... However, "relative to the 20-year period from the mid-1970s to the mid 1990s, the Earth has been more active over the past 15 or so years," said Stephen S. Gao, a geophysicist at Missouri University of Science and Technology. "We still do not know the reason for this yet. Could simply be the natural temporal variation of the stress field in the earth's lithosphere."”
--MSNBC, Feb 27, 2010
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/35618526/ns/technology_and_science-science/
If even sun someday will serve as prey
To entropy, to holes so dense they're black
To us; then what has changed? The gods still fray
In all their forms; from Cronus, farther back
I'm sure, to Ancient Ones of Lovecraft fame,
To microscopes and telescopes that spot
Another entity usurping claims
Of ultimate hegemony. We thought
Our age of science granted might akin
To nebulae and yet the Earth's mishaps
Alone deny our transcendental win.
The paltry centuries disguise perhaps
Immense, perhaps impossible to grasp,
And mighty forces science—Gods can't clasp:
A death in eons, scoffed with dying rasps.
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“The 8.8 magnitude earthquake that struck off coastal Chile in the early hours of the morning is one of the biggest temblors anywhere in more than a century. ”
–Gautam Naik, Wall Street Journal, FEBRUARY 27, 2010, 3:44 P.M. ET
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704231304575091611248294970.html?mod=rss_Today%27s_Most_Popular
“"From our human perspective with our relatively short and incomplete memories and better and better communications around the world, we hear about more earthquakes and it seems like they are more frequent," Arrowsmith said. "But this is probably not any indication of a global change in earthquake rate of significance."... However, "relative to the 20-year period from the mid-1970s to the mid 1990s, the Earth has been more active over the past 15 or so years," said Stephen S. Gao, a geophysicist at Missouri University of Science and Technology. "We still do not know the reason for this yet. Could simply be the natural temporal variation of the stress field in the earth's lithosphere."”
--MSNBC, Feb 27, 2010
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/35618526/ns/technology_and_science-science/
If even sun someday will serve as prey
To entropy, to holes so dense they're black
To us; then what has changed? The gods still fray
In all their forms; from Cronus, farther back
I'm sure, to Ancient Ones of Lovecraft fame,
To microscopes and telescopes that spot
Another entity usurping claims
Of ultimate hegemony. We thought
Our age of science granted might akin
To nebulae and yet the Earth's mishaps
Alone deny our transcendental win.
The paltry centuries disguise perhaps
Immense, perhaps impossible to grasp,
And mighty forces science—Gods can't clasp:
A death in eons, scoffed with dying rasps.
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Friday, February 26, 2010
Missile Man's Mini-Truth [Today's News Poem, Feb 26, 2010]
Missile Man's Mini-Truth [Today's News Poem, Feb 26, 2010]
“Obama, who established the National Commission on Fiscal Responsibility and Reform after the Congress failed to create a similar panel, nominated four new members after choosing Republican and Democratic chairmen earlier this month.
The president named Honeywell Chief Executive David Cote”
--Jeff Mason, Fri Feb 26, 2010 1:04pm EST
http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE61P3LS20100226?type=politicsNews
The last indignity for me I think was when
I grew enough to understand George Orwell's book—
You know of Nineteen Eighty Four I'm sure. Again,
The shock humiliated me: the masters took
His doublespeak and used it brazenly to lie
In slick and modern tones. I can't believe to top
It off, they've cheek to claim we beat Big Bro. They're sly.
They shoot us with their mini-truths: by press, by cop;
By missile-man—a spy I bet—who's there to split the take,
To tend to backroom deals for sake of fellow crooks and rakes.
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“Obama, who established the National Commission on Fiscal Responsibility and Reform after the Congress failed to create a similar panel, nominated four new members after choosing Republican and Democratic chairmen earlier this month.
The president named Honeywell Chief Executive David Cote”
--Jeff Mason, Fri Feb 26, 2010 1:04pm EST
http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE61P3LS20100226?type=politicsNews
The last indignity for me I think was when
I grew enough to understand George Orwell's book—
You know of Nineteen Eighty Four I'm sure. Again,
The shock humiliated me: the masters took
His doublespeak and used it brazenly to lie
In slick and modern tones. I can't believe to top
It off, they've cheek to claim we beat Big Bro. They're sly.
They shoot us with their mini-truths: by press, by cop;
By missile-man—a spy I bet—who's there to split the take,
To tend to backroom deals for sake of fellow crooks and rakes.
Subscribe in a reader
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Why Turkey's Not Chicken [Bonus News Poem, Feb 25, 2010]
Why Turkey's Not Chicken [Bonus News Poem, Feb 25, 2010]
“Dated from November 2002, shortly after the AKP won its first, landslide election victory, they include proposals for a number of actions intended to create the conditions for military intervention, including bombing two mosques in Istanbul and "arranging" for a Turkish air force jet to be shot down in a clash with Greece - all to create the conditions for military intervention. “
--Jonathan Head, BBC 20:48 GMT, Thursday, 25 February 2010
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/8537775.stm
What man who drove a tank could sleep with branches knocking on his wall,
When Stalin ruled the SSRs and thoughtful folk were worked to bone?
And Kennedy was almost shot by Generals who claimed his balls
Were blue like royal blood. They wanted nuclear war to keep their zone
On global maps from turning red. They much preferred to char a clan,
A town, a land—the map remains pristine and kids might learn the lies
That start the wars to come. Instead, somewhere in Washington, they plan
Another way to bilk those paying tax. Recruited working spies
They lied on television, tried to start a war and yet the Turks,
Not Yanks, prepare to punish those who dodged their duty, shirked their work.
We say America is special. Jerks. We're jerks with friendly quirks.
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“Dated from November 2002, shortly after the AKP won its first, landslide election victory, they include proposals for a number of actions intended to create the conditions for military intervention, including bombing two mosques in Istanbul and "arranging" for a Turkish air force jet to be shot down in a clash with Greece - all to create the conditions for military intervention. “
--Jonathan Head, BBC 20:48 GMT, Thursday, 25 February 2010
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/8537775.stm
What man who drove a tank could sleep with branches knocking on his wall,
When Stalin ruled the SSRs and thoughtful folk were worked to bone?
And Kennedy was almost shot by Generals who claimed his balls
Were blue like royal blood. They wanted nuclear war to keep their zone
On global maps from turning red. They much preferred to char a clan,
A town, a land—the map remains pristine and kids might learn the lies
That start the wars to come. Instead, somewhere in Washington, they plan
Another way to bilk those paying tax. Recruited working spies
They lied on television, tried to start a war and yet the Turks,
Not Yanks, prepare to punish those who dodged their duty, shirked their work.
We say America is special. Jerks. We're jerks with friendly quirks.
Subscribe in a reader
Daily Updates of Print Edition on Hold Until End of Feb Edition
The End of Feb edition of Toylit ought to have over 40 poems in it, edited to my limits, within the time constraints that life enforces. I will try to have it out in the first week of March--which is coming up. This will be the polished edition of verse you've been waiting to see. It will have original illustrations and be a complete work of art. I will organize them by theme rather than by date and you, the reader will have a unique experience with a text that you sometimes encountered within moments of its completion--as a final product. I anticipate a fine collection, worthy of the bookshelf.
I will try to produce a bonus poem before bed. You might have noticed today's high rate of production. It's in penance for breaking my promise to give you a bonus poem last night. After all, you are a loyal readership and I appreciate it--even if I am a degenerate scumbag, I'll still wag my tail and try to bark in English.
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I will try to produce a bonus poem before bed. You might have noticed today's high rate of production. It's in penance for breaking my promise to give you a bonus poem last night. After all, you are a loyal readership and I appreciate it--even if I am a degenerate scumbag, I'll still wag my tail and try to bark in English.
Subscribe in a reader
American Idle [Bonus News Poem, Feb 25, 2010]
American Idle [Bonus News Poem Feb 25, 2010]
“For the second time this week, Fox’s “American Idol” beat NBC’s coverage of the Olympics. Wednesday’s episode of “Idol” drew 22.8 million viewers from 8 to 10 p.m., almost 3 million more than the Winter Games on NBC in the same time period, according to Nielsen’s estimates. ”
--BENJAMIN TOFF Compiled by JULIE BLOOM, New York Times, February 25, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/26/arts/television/26arts-IDOLBEATSOLY_BRF.html
Before, the athlete earned her pay
In part by sponsorship display.
But now who wants to practice sports?
“It's too much time,” the youth exhort.
They'd rather sing in shower stalls
And dream of famous music halls
In which they'd headline every night.
They seek a love for who they are:
They're lazy clowns. In short—they're stars.
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“For the second time this week, Fox’s “American Idol” beat NBC’s coverage of the Olympics. Wednesday’s episode of “Idol” drew 22.8 million viewers from 8 to 10 p.m., almost 3 million more than the Winter Games on NBC in the same time period, according to Nielsen’s estimates. ”
--BENJAMIN TOFF Compiled by JULIE BLOOM, New York Times, February 25, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/26/arts/television/26arts-IDOLBEATSOLY_BRF.html
Before, the athlete earned her pay
In part by sponsorship display.
But now who wants to practice sports?
“It's too much time,” the youth exhort.
They'd rather sing in shower stalls
And dream of famous music halls
In which they'd headline every night.
They seek a love for who they are:
They're lazy clowns. In short—they're stars.
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Ephemeral Pyramid [Today's News Poem, Feb 25, 2010]
Ephemeral Pyramid [Today's News Poem, Feb 25, 2010]
“As for Vancouver’s municipal government and the taxpayers, the bad news is already in. The immediate Olympic legacy for this city of 580,000 people is a nearly $1 billion debt from bailing out the Olympic Village development. Beyond that, people in Vancouver and British Columbia have already seen cuts in services like education, health care and arts financing from their provincial government, which is stuck with many other Olympics-related costs. “
--Ian Austen, NY Times, Feb 24
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/25/sports/olympics/25vancouver.html
Reports are in: Olympic Village
Has drained Vancouver's funds by pillage.
Ignore those loathsome Arts. For Sport
We'll build a golden palace-fort
Just like the Pharaohs. Minions die:
In hospitals, inside their minds;
To finance skaters jumping high.
They'll eat the fruit, we'll live on rinds
That we pretend to savor, lest they say you're
Jealous, that I'm just a cur—a barking burr.
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“As for Vancouver’s municipal government and the taxpayers, the bad news is already in. The immediate Olympic legacy for this city of 580,000 people is a nearly $1 billion debt from bailing out the Olympic Village development. Beyond that, people in Vancouver and British Columbia have already seen cuts in services like education, health care and arts financing from their provincial government, which is stuck with many other Olympics-related costs. “
--Ian Austen, NY Times, Feb 24
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/25/sports/olympics/25vancouver.html
Reports are in: Olympic Village
Has drained Vancouver's funds by pillage.
Ignore those loathsome Arts. For Sport
We'll build a golden palace-fort
Just like the Pharaohs. Minions die:
In hospitals, inside their minds;
To finance skaters jumping high.
They'll eat the fruit, we'll live on rinds
That we pretend to savor, lest they say you're
Jealous, that I'm just a cur—a barking burr.
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Epic Bulldozer Guy [Bonus News Poem, Feb 25, 2010]
Epic Bulldozer Guy [Bonus News Poem, Feb 25, 2010]
"I'll tear it down before I let you take it,"
--Terry Hoskins
http://www.wlwt.com/news/22600154/detail.html
When all the cash, when all appeal is gone,
Then tear it down. If death or jail is what
You wish... when mobs insane with power's brawn
Use clumsy wheels to pave their way with guts...
If that is what you wish then tear it down.
Indignities, we're told we ought not take
Them personally. Liens, a note, the court:
A thousand paper cuts. Before the rakes
Of state can seed their bride they must abort
The fetal hope. 'Utopia' they say
Is just a tragic joke. Instead, just pay
Your life away in monthly increments, as bills—
For this machine is more precise with who it kills.
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"I'll tear it down before I let you take it,"
--Terry Hoskins
http://www.wlwt.com/news/22600154/detail.html
When all the cash, when all appeal is gone,
Then tear it down. If death or jail is what
You wish... when mobs insane with power's brawn
Use clumsy wheels to pave their way with guts...
If that is what you wish then tear it down.
Indignities, we're told we ought not take
Them personally. Liens, a note, the court:
A thousand paper cuts. Before the rakes
Of state can seed their bride they must abort
The fetal hope. 'Utopia' they say
Is just a tragic joke. Instead, just pay
Your life away in monthly increments, as bills—
For this machine is more precise with who it kills.
Subscribe in a reader
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Musicians! Do your lyrics suck?
In addition to the pre-existing news poem collateral, Toylit can custom-design lyrics to suit your songwriting needs. Contact Toylit for these and other collaboration opportunities.
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Orca Uncorked! [Today's News Poem, Feb 24, 2010]
Orca Uncorked! [Today's News Poem, Feb 24, 2010]
“...in 1999, authorities discovered the body of a naked man across his back. Authorities concluded that the man, who had either sneaked into SeaWorld after hours or hidden in the park until it closed, most likely drowned after suffering hypothermia in the 55-degree water.
They also said it appeared that Tilikum had bitten the man and torn off his swimming trunks, probably believing he was a toy to play with.“
--Jason Garcia and Susan Jacobson, LA Times
http://www.latimes.com/news/nation-and-world/la-na-seaworld-death25-2010feb25,0,7841436.story
In ceremony unobserved by spectators
The orca Tilikum intoned the vengeance song:
He sang a pitch they could not hear. The dictator
Of whales appeared—they cheered. She thought she did no wrong
She risked her life and knew she did—the whale to her?
A stupid kid that weighed twelve thousand pounds. A bribe
Of fish bought loyalty. She thought of treats as spurs
With which she'd tame the whale. So why does she imbibe
The sea? And why reward her faith in him like this? She pleads.
He eats her—teaching her the slave will ever seek secede.
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“...in 1999, authorities discovered the body of a naked man across his back. Authorities concluded that the man, who had either sneaked into SeaWorld after hours or hidden in the park until it closed, most likely drowned after suffering hypothermia in the 55-degree water.
They also said it appeared that Tilikum had bitten the man and torn off his swimming trunks, probably believing he was a toy to play with.“
--Jason Garcia and Susan Jacobson, LA Times
http://www.latimes.com/news/nation-and-world/la-na-seaworld-death25-2010feb25,0,7841436.story
In ceremony unobserved by spectators
The orca Tilikum intoned the vengeance song:
He sang a pitch they could not hear. The dictator
Of whales appeared—they cheered. She thought she did no wrong
She risked her life and knew she did—the whale to her?
A stupid kid that weighed twelve thousand pounds. A bribe
Of fish bought loyalty. She thought of treats as spurs
With which she'd tame the whale. So why does she imbibe
The sea? And why reward her faith in him like this? She pleads.
He eats her—teaching her the slave will ever seek secede.
Subscribe in a reader
Sorry, I was tending to CombatWords! Go there for some reading or lit combat
CombatWords!
I'll start Today's News Poem in a few minutes and in penance for its tardiness, I'll try to do a bonus poem too--due later tonight (PST).
Subscribe in a reader
I'll start Today's News Poem in a few minutes and in penance for its tardiness, I'll try to do a bonus poem too--due later tonight (PST).
Subscribe in a reader
Victory Dance [Bonus Poem]
Victory Dance
Reward your dog, his crappy blog,
That we may both live high on hog.
I pwned a paper, next I'll vex
The spewers casting advert-hex
Upon us all. They call it news:
I skewer writers set on cruise.
They'll sue my ass, because they lose
Their face when I decide to ooze
My bile. Their egos? Blue. A nasty bruise.
They'll sue my ass. I'll stop. I can't refuse.
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Reward your dog, his crappy blog,
That we may both live high on hog.
I pwned a paper, next I'll vex
The spewers casting advert-hex
Upon us all. They call it news:
I skewer writers set on cruise.
They'll sue my ass, because they lose
Their face when I decide to ooze
My bile. Their egos? Blue. A nasty bruise.
They'll sue my ass. I'll stop. I can't refuse.
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Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Phailure To Literacify [Today's News Poem, Special Extra, Feb 23, 2010]
Phailure To Literacify [Today's News Poem, Special Extra, Feb 23, 2010]
“The poem crammed in SF Weekly boxes is unambiguously laudatory of Joseph Stack, the anti-government wingnut who allegedly piloted his small plane into an IRS center in Texas, killing a man named Vernon Hunter and injuring more than a dozen others.”
--Joe Eskenazi, SF Weekly
http://blogs.sfweekly.com/thesnitch/2010/02/vile_poetry_hardly_worst_detri.php
“Autobots wage their battle to destroy the evil forces of the Decepticons!”
--The Transformers Theme Song
“Man is a prosthetic God”
--Sigmund Freud, Civilization and its Discontents
"Prosthetic Gods Wage Their Battle"
http://toylit.blogspot.com/2010/02/prosthetic-gods-wage-their-battle.html
It's tragic when a man of print
Requires a helpful, hostile hint;
To steer his eye to what's on page
To rid him of his misplaced rage.
While true I use like avenue
To share my words, I wouldn't spew
My ignorance of Sigmund Freud
Or Transformers—(you know... the droid?)
From boxes shedding porn and scams,
That litter up the bus and trams:
Just fold it right, now sail a fleet
(An unseen one) down Market Street.
How could I ever inflict harm
On foes like you, who self-disarm?
To watch you struggle with the page
Should bring your readers steady rage—
Until they've learned you're just a hack
Who needs to read. A book! You! Crack!
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“The poem crammed in SF Weekly boxes is unambiguously laudatory of Joseph Stack, the anti-government wingnut who allegedly piloted his small plane into an IRS center in Texas, killing a man named Vernon Hunter and injuring more than a dozen others.”
--Joe Eskenazi, SF Weekly
http://blogs.sfweekly.com/thesnitch/2010/02/vile_poetry_hardly_worst_detri.php
“Autobots wage their battle to destroy the evil forces of the Decepticons!”
--The Transformers Theme Song
“Man is a prosthetic God”
--Sigmund Freud, Civilization and its Discontents
"Prosthetic Gods Wage Their Battle"
http://toylit.blogspot.com/2010/02/prosthetic-gods-wage-their-battle.html
It's tragic when a man of print
Requires a helpful, hostile hint;
To steer his eye to what's on page
To rid him of his misplaced rage.
While true I use like avenue
To share my words, I wouldn't spew
My ignorance of Sigmund Freud
Or Transformers—(you know... the droid?)
From boxes shedding porn and scams,
That litter up the bus and trams:
Just fold it right, now sail a fleet
(An unseen one) down Market Street.
How could I ever inflict harm
On foes like you, who self-disarm?
To watch you struggle with the page
Should bring your readers steady rage—
Until they've learned you're just a hack
Who needs to read. A book! You! Crack!
Subscribe in a reader
SF Weekly Throws Mediocre, Illiterate Gauntlet
Just saw it now. So now the clock is ticking and they await my riposte. Mmm, it's like getting a big London Broil, there are so many ways to flame it.
See America's journalists prove they don't know Freud (high culture) OR Transformers (low culture) and watch what happens when they don't bring their A-game to their own newspaper boxes.
Lunge:
http://blogs.sfweekly.com/thesnitch/2010/02/vile_poetry_hardly_worst_detri.php
Riposte coming...
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See America's journalists prove they don't know Freud (high culture) OR Transformers (low culture) and watch what happens when they don't bring their A-game to their own newspaper boxes.
Lunge:
http://blogs.sfweekly.com/thesnitch/2010/02/vile_poetry_hardly_worst_detri.php
Riposte coming...
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Cretan Labyrinth [Today's News Poem Part II, or Bonus Poem]
Cretan Labyrinth
A winter sport I'd like to see:
A shooting match, by teams, on ski.
While blood in hockey's sanitized
For sake of replays televised
To save the kids—it's late for that.
So get your club or baseball bat
And fasten skis on both your feet,
And win that gold for U-S-A
By bashing commie fags in fray.
They want their chance to get you too
To own a pair of eyes of blue,
To stain the white of ice with you.
Instead we watch from every pew
And worship those who ought renew
Their lust for war through every sport—
Whose feats on ice inspire our due
And still command our staunch support.
They bait a kindly Minotaur:
Olympics are a proxy-war.
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A winter sport I'd like to see:
A shooting match, by teams, on ski.
While blood in hockey's sanitized
For sake of replays televised
To save the kids—it's late for that.
So get your club or baseball bat
And fasten skis on both your feet,
And win that gold for U-S-A
By bashing commie fags in fray.
They want their chance to get you too
To own a pair of eyes of blue,
To stain the white of ice with you.
Instead we watch from every pew
And worship those who ought renew
Their lust for war through every sport—
Whose feats on ice inspire our due
And still command our staunch support.
They bait a kindly Minotaur:
Olympics are a proxy-war.
Subscribe in a reader
Whose Achievement? [Today's News Poem]
Whose Achievement? [Today's News Poem, Feb 23, 2010]
http://www.torontosun.com/sports/vancouver2010/photos/2010/02/23/12994746.html
The cult of sports has gilded halls
With records proving human force.
A trophy case upon the wall
Exists in place to name the source
Of greatness, measured carefully.
Such care exceeds esteem for sport—
Athletes more the pull than pulley—
Science needs a thing to sort.
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http://www.torontosun.com/sports/vancouver2010/photos/2010/02/23/12994746.html
The cult of sports has gilded halls
With records proving human force.
A trophy case upon the wall
Exists in place to name the source
Of greatness, measured carefully.
Such care exceeds esteem for sport—
Athletes more the pull than pulley—
Science needs a thing to sort.
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Monday, February 22, 2010
Mapquest [Bonus News Poem, Feb 22, 2010]
Mapquest [Bonus News Poem, Feb 22, 2010]
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/23/world/middleeast/23mideast.html
The Celts can claim most Western European states.
The Dalai Lama's poor Tibet? A Chinese mine
Or tourist trap. Yes, history is cruel; it waits
Until we scarcely note its passage... then the fine
We pay for loving glory's heirlooms more than life
Around us: humbled by the boat, by cannonade,
By stroke of pen: we vow revenge and make the strife
Of loss the fuel for later win. At first grenade
By Vietcong, then Fedayeen with bombs for coats:
Avenging fighters win because they always dote
Upon dishonors lost in smoke and scorched by flame;
And carry loss and call it win until the fame
Of martyrdom demands a sacrifice
And sends the young ones off to paradise.
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/23/world/middleeast/23mideast.html
The Celts can claim most Western European states.
The Dalai Lama's poor Tibet? A Chinese mine
Or tourist trap. Yes, history is cruel; it waits
Until we scarcely note its passage... then the fine
We pay for loving glory's heirlooms more than life
Around us: humbled by the boat, by cannonade,
By stroke of pen: we vow revenge and make the strife
Of loss the fuel for later win. At first grenade
By Vietcong, then Fedayeen with bombs for coats:
Avenging fighters win because they always dote
Upon dishonors lost in smoke and scorched by flame;
And carry loss and call it win until the fame
Of martyrdom demands a sacrifice
And sends the young ones off to paradise.
One more click earns you all a bonus poem
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So that's where income from this page will go. Thanks for supporting Toylit. Tell your friends, but really, shouldn't your enemies be reading it too?
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Expenses:
-Web Hosting
-Paying writers
-Distribution costs
So that's where income from this page will go. Thanks for supporting Toylit. Tell your friends, but really, shouldn't your enemies be reading it too?
Subscribe in a reader
Such Wealth Could Fuel an Empire [Today's News Poem, Feb 22, 2010]
Such Wealth Could Fuel an Empire [Today's News Poem, Feb 22, 2010]
“The sea around the Falklands could contain up to 17 billion barrels of oil and 51 trillion cubic feet, or 9 billion barrels of oil equivalent, of gas, according to a report in 2000 by the U.S. Geological Survey. “
-Tom Bergin, Reuters, Mon Feb 22, 2010 12:20pm EST
http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSLDE61L1ZF20100222?type=marketsNews
It's oil! At last the proof that guns
Secured a cash grand-prize in war:
It's evidence might's weighed in tons,
And stifles blame that came before
This boon! Of oil! Not gems or spice,
But still a good as good as gold.
The sale of crude obtains a price
That strengthens Brits a dozen-fold.
Imagine now an Empire's flag
That never felt the setting sun
And financed using tribute's swag—
The Brits might not have been undone
By London, burned to ashen bits.
The oil in former British lands—
It could have funded boom, post-blitz.
A prince could war by carrier,
Could shoot his foes by Harrier:
A Luis Borges blown to bits:
Parade his ear and play the hits
While scions wave by caravan
At crowds, at mom, the royal clan.
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“The sea around the Falklands could contain up to 17 billion barrels of oil and 51 trillion cubic feet, or 9 billion barrels of oil equivalent, of gas, according to a report in 2000 by the U.S. Geological Survey. “
-Tom Bergin, Reuters, Mon Feb 22, 2010 12:20pm EST
http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSLDE61L1ZF20100222?type=marketsNews
It's oil! At last the proof that guns
Secured a cash grand-prize in war:
It's evidence might's weighed in tons,
And stifles blame that came before
This boon! Of oil! Not gems or spice,
But still a good as good as gold.
The sale of crude obtains a price
That strengthens Brits a dozen-fold.
Imagine now an Empire's flag
That never felt the setting sun
And financed using tribute's swag—
The Brits might not have been undone
By London, burned to ashen bits.
The oil in former British lands—
It could have funded boom, post-blitz.
A prince could war by carrier,
Could shoot his foes by Harrier:
A Luis Borges blown to bits:
Parade his ear and play the hits
While scions wave by caravan
At crowds, at mom, the royal clan.
Subscribe in a reader
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