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Monday, March 22, 2010

A Book of Jokes [Today's News Poem March 22, 2010]

A Book of Jokes [Today's News Poem March 22, 2010]

“By relying on Hong Kong, Google is trying to find a way to fight censorship laws while still keeping a presence in mainland China. The approach may not work for long because the government will probably block the site”
-Brian Womack, Bloomberg, March 22, 2010, 7:39 PM EDT
http://www.businessweek.com/news/2010-03-22/google-stops-censoring-results-making-block-by-china-likely.html

“In a statement, the ministers condemned Tehran's jamming of satellite broadcasting and Internet censorship and called on authorities to "put an end to this electronic interference immediately."”
http://www.rferl.org/content/EU_Calls_On_Tehran_to_End_Iranian_State_Censorship/1990324.html

“The Internet, argues Cass Sunstein, has had a polarizing effect on democracies. Although it has the capacity to bring people together, too often the associations formed online comprise self-selecting groups with little diversity of opinion,”
http://harvardmagazine.com/2009/03/the-internet-foe-democracy

There was a time when history would make me laugh:
A book of jokes—of murder, madness, bigotry—
A game they played with living pieces, on behalf
Of bishops, knights and kings. With space telemetry;
And internet, the Papal Bulls against the sun
Were innocent excursions—never mind the death
Of witches, slaves and infidels: the match was won.
L. Wittgenstein asked, 'what's a game?' It's played with breath
For stakes when played for keeps. I say a game is jest
And nothing else—at least for those who win its stakes.
The losers may not crow aloud, but life's a test
Of funny bones. Besides, in death the dreamer wakes
And learns to laugh it off. She'll smile at tragic fates
Like mine: a punchline, ignorant of what awaits.

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News Poem kicking my ass today. Almost done.

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Stop poisoning the readership

I know it's hard to give up an ambition you didn't really make any sacrifices for--but please consider that every time you write a bad poem and throw a hissy-fit when the reader doesn't like it, you are DISCOURAGING them from reading verse. Bad prose writers are constantly mocked to their faces in ways bad poets are rarely mocked. Why? Bad poets freak out. They say 'you don't understand poetry.' Many of my readers e-mail me to say "well, I don't like poetry in general, but I like _your_ poetry," and I respond, "if you like language, then you're poetry's natural constituency."

Bad poets compensate for their terrible attempts at poesis by blaming the reader for the poet's failings. If you put your poetry out there, you expose it to criticism. Offering verse is offering a transaction: 'in exchange for reading this poem, I promise you'll get something from it.' Most poets though have no interest in the reader. They want the reader to come to them, rather than the other way around. It's vile, isn't it? The hypocrisy of that position? So if you found Toylit because I made what you might consider to be an 'unkind' remark regarding your poetry, consider that I am doing so for the sake of serious poets everywhere. Most supposed poets are really lifestyle tourists, who want to expropriate the identity of 'poet' without actually doing anything to earn it.

This is the difference between a lifestyle tourist and an actual poet: the poet's verse is merely the artifact of the performance art that is the poet's life. The lifestyle tourist goes and paints a smiley face on his penis and goes to Burning Man. The real poet mutilates his or her mind to maximize poesis. If you are going to trivialize my vocation then I am certainly going to mock your sad efforts at writing verse.

Why be one of a hundred million wannabe poets, when you could master tie dye, crochet, or really any other craft that has less competition and less at stake? You supposed 'language' poets are the worst too (not you Billy Collins): you study the means of communication, but communicate nothing of value. A poet with nothing to say is like a brand without a product.

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Sunday, March 21, 2010

[Revised] Last Video Testimony of an SF OG

Last Video Testimony of an SF OG [Today's News Poem March 21, 2010]
“In 2008, Rich Hohl turned a troubled corner liquor store on San Francisco's Divisadero Street into an airy neighborhood cafe,”
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2010/03/21/BUSL1CI4NA.DTL
“I've lived just up the corner from Divis for the past 16 years, and this is far from the type of corporate gentrification we've seen in other neighborhoods. I'm sure, if things were to reach a certain stage, we'd see Starbucks and Pottery Barn try to make inroads, but for now it's locals making our neighborhood better without all the outside opportunism.”
derakus 3/20/2010 9:52:42 PM
“Most Black natives have the same story: Their grandparents are from the South; they moved here and bought a house or two with the money they earned; much was lost or devastated by the crack epidemic.”
http://native-star.blogspot.com/
“How about this for a plan for sprucing up our nation’s crumbling housing projects: ship lazy black folks out to the subprime suburbs, privatize their apartment buildings and hand them over to real estate developers. That’s what T.A. Frank, a New America Foundation think tank shill, thinks Los Angeles needs to do with Jordan Downs, a notoriously dilapidated and crime-wracked project in Watts:”
http://exiledonline.com/how-to-solve-the-housing-glut-ship-poor-people-into-abandoned-suburbs-and-privatize-inner-city-projects/
“See, when street crime happens, that's bad. When crime happens against a whole racial-socioeconomic class, well, that's just 'progress.' I hate the gangsters too, but I totally get why Boots Riley wants to toss you all in a pit and machine-gun you to death.”
--khakjaan 3/21/2010 3:35:01 PM

“Question: What do $42,600 and $5 have in common?
Answer: they both represent the median net wealth of middle-aged American women. The only difference between the two numbers is race; while single white women from the ages of 36 to 49 have a median wealth of $42,600, single black women have a net wealth of just $5.”
-Charlotte Hill March 13, 2010 11:12 AM
http://uspoverty.change.org/blog/view/the_median_net_wealth_of_black_women_is_5
http://www.federalreserve.gov/pubs/oss/oss2/2007/scf2007home.html

The food obsessed may care about their meat;
The way it lived before it died to feed
A hungry maw: a privilege elites
Afford with theft to slake their goddamn greed.
I do not want to die my love—I fear
What may become of us. I can't protect
You—hell, I can't defend myself from gears
I scarcely understand, from architects
Of projects, crack cocaine...They want to chain
You up my love (my baby boy) to die
By sips of beer... by ways I can't explain.
They stole our neighborhood, I won't comply.
Instead, I'll stalk the corner I love best.
When yuppies come, I'll detonate my vest.

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Today's News Poem in need of major edits

Taking a break for now, but will be back to rewrite it into something decent in a couple of hours.

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Last Video Testimony of an SF OG [Today's News Poem March 21, 2010]

Last Video Testimony of an SF OG [Today's News Poem March 21, 2010]
“In 2008, Rich Hohl turned a troubled corner liquor store on San Francisco's Divisadero Street into an airy neighborhood cafe,”
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2010/03/21/BUSL1CI4NA.DTL
“I've lived just up the corner from Divis for the past 16 years, and this is far from the type of corporate gentrification we've seen in other neighborhoods. I'm sure, if things were to reach a certain stage, we'd see Starbucks and Pottery Barn try to make inroads, but for now it's locals making our neighborhood better without all the outside opportunism.”
derakus 3/20/2010 9:52:42 PM
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2010/03/21/BUSL1CI4NA.DTL
“Most Black natives have the same story: Their grandparents are from the South; they moved here and bought a house or two with the money they earned; much was lost or devastated by the crack epidemic.”
http://native-star.blogspot.com/
“How about this for a plan for sprucing up our nation’s crumbling housing projects: ship lazy black folks out to the subprime suburbs, privatize their apartment buildings and hand them over to real estate developers. That’s what T.A. Frank, a New America Foundation think tank shill, thinks Los Angeles needs to do with Jordan Downs, a notoriously dilapidated and crime-wracked project in Watts:”
http://exiledonline.com/how-to-solve-the-housing-glut-ship-poor-people-into-abandoned-suburbs-and-privatize-inner-city-projects/
“See, when street crime happens, that's bad. When crime happens against a whole racial-socioeconomic class, well, that's just 'progress.' I hate the gangsters too, but I totally get why Boots Riley wants to toss you all in a pit and machine-gun you to death.”
--khakjaan 3/21/2010 3:35:01 PM



“Question: What do $42,600 and $5 have in common?
Answer: they both represent the median net wealth of middle-aged American women. The only difference between the two numbers is race; while single white women from the ages of 36 to 49 have a median wealth of $42,600, single black women have a net wealth of just $5.”
-Charlotte Hill March 13, 2010 11:12 AM
http://uspoverty.change.org/blog/view/the_median_net_wealth_of_black_women_is_5
http://www.federalreserve.gov/pubs/oss/oss2/2007/scf2007home.html


I don't want you to cry my baby boy:
The cannibals are real. I can't protect
Myself or you unless I can destroy
A city filled with thieves and architects
Of slavery for you—my baby boy!
I'd rather die than see them fit your chain.
To see the scam repeat itself in ploys
Of theft I do not get nor can explain.
Your grandma bought the only house she could,
And raised us—well, as best as she knew how.
But politicians stole our neighborhood;
It's lost, we've lost—and so this vengeance-vow:
The thieves who think organic foods are best
Will die by me, by suicide. By vest!

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News Poem with Local Flavoring Coming Up

Just finished my notes on it and you should be getting it in an hour or so.

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Saturday, March 20, 2010

Faithful Argus: All Three Parts:

Faithful Argus Gets a New Master [News Poem, March 20 2010]

“The authorities in southern New Jersey said Saturday that they had arrested a 16-year-old boy for activating a public-address system at a Wal-Mart store earlier in the week and ordering 'all black people' to leave.The boy, whose name was not released because he is a minor, was charged with bias and intimidation and harassment in connection with the episode last Sunday. If convicted, he could face up to a year in a juvenile detention center, officials said.”
--Kirk Semple and Nate Schweber, The New York Times, March 20 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/21/nyregion/21walmart.html

Day 2
I took this job because the chinks all cheat—
In league with jews and blacks to take the jobs
Of honest men like me. Today, I'll greet
Those shoppers equally: I'll let them rob
The kykes who really own this warehouse store:
I'm just a victim in this racial war.

Month 18
The boss, he praised my cheerful, careful work.
I held my tongue about the raise I want:
To ask might risk his ire—I'm not a jerk—
A teammate ought not seek what others flaunt.
I'd rather ask for extra time, not pay:
Or else this job as well might go away.

Year 8:
The panic did not end until they caught
The kid who risked what others—we—had earned.
Rebellion's tokens: prison's what it bought,
And now the chance to know what I have learned.
Obey and follow rules or else you'll fail;
For men like us it's slavery or jail.

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Faithful Argus: Part 3

Year 8:
The panic did not end until they caught
The kid who risked what others—we—had earned.
Rebellion's tokens: prison's what it bought,
And now the chance to know what I have learned.
Obey and follow rules or else you'll fail;
For men like us it's slavery or jail.

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Faithful Argus: Part 2

Month 18
The boss, he praised my cheerful, careful work.
I held my tongue about the raise I want:
To ask might risk his ire—I'm not a jerk—
A teammate ought not seek what others flaunt.
I'd rather ask for extra time, not pay:
Or else this job as well might go away.

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Faithful Argus Gets a New Master [News Poem, March 20 2010]

Faithful Argus Gets a New Master: Part I [News Poem, March 20 2010]

“The authorities in southern New Jersey said Saturday that they had arrested a 16-year-old boy for activating a public-address system at a Wal-Mart store earlier in the week and ordering 'all black people' to leave.The boy, whose name was not released because he is a minor, was charged with bias and intimidation and harassment in connection with the episode last Sunday. If convicted, he could face up to a year in a juvenile detention center, officials said.”
--Kirk Semple and Nate Schweber, The New York Times, March 20 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/21/nyregion/21walmart.html

Day 2
I took this job because the chinks all cheat—
In league with jews and blacks to take the jobs
Of honest men like me. Today, I'll greet
Those shoppers equally: I'll let them rob
The kykes who really own this warehouse store:
I'm just a victim in this racial war.

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News Poems Almost Done. A Little Bit Tricky Today. Posting Soon.

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Friday, March 19, 2010

Inquisition of an Atheist [Bonus Poem, March 19, 2010]

Inquisition of an Atheist [Bonus Poem, March 19, 2010]

“So you prefer this isle of sin?”
“Yes, I do. Is loving breath
Worth the loss of life hereafter?”

“This body tests who ought to win—”
“'... Life forever, life in death,'
Lies the fronds dismiss with laughter.”

“You mock the words of holy books!”
“Books they wrote to cow the hicks.”
“Evil force defiles your soul—“

“And yet I'm here on tenterhook—“
“We won't fall for evil tricks,
Lies, deceit: your only goals.

In pandemonium for you: eternity's assigned
A proper fate for one who hates a God like mine—God's kind."


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The Near-Senile Magnetic Cloud Speaks Out of Turn During a Mating Ritual [Today's News Poem, March 19, 2010]

The Near-Senile Magnetic Cloud Speaks Out of Turn During a Mating Ritual [Today's News Poem, March 19, 2010]
“... Bangladesh, to the vast, such as the US; from the familiar - England, New Zealand... What unites such a disparate group is concern about climate change. They have all signed on to participate in Earth Hour next Saturday.”
--JENNIE CURTIN, Sydney Morning Herald, March 20, 2010
http://www.smh.com.au/environment/earth-hour/nations-large-and-small-join-climate-change-campaign-20100319-qmay.html

What can't forget cannot recall
It seems. The rest of you converge
Your nebulae in mating brawls,
While memories in me emerge

Of stately solar births. With gas
It starts... but then the sparking burst!
You judge importance by its mass.
Like you, I watched the giants first;

But atoms lust as well and link
Together. Once I saw some chains—
Of acid really—learn to think.
Astonishing! I watched the brains

Of little nothings come aware.
And every time I noted one
It decomposed. I learned to care
For trifles; loved their micro-sun.

Though starved of energy, their life
Replenished me. Their sense of four
Dimensions, crude. Their frantic strife
Would end before I'd even store

My memories. They loved our kind
You know, and envied us as well.
They prayed to us, to me to find
A way to save them all—to quell

Their rightful fears of death. I said
I care for them: they called me God.
With speech, I seemed to end their dread.
They scattered, left their rocky clod.

Before explosions killed that race,
Before they wandered outer space,
They hoped to find enlightened grace.
It's there, I said, in every place.

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If you're bored, go to combatwords. I wrote a sonnet there last night

Right now, combatwords has something like a 10:1 ratio of regular readers to regular writers. Surely someone out there has an interest in literary dueling. It's all fairly civilized over there, but bring your A game.

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Thursday, March 18, 2010

Avant-Garde Food Critic [News Poem, March 18, 2010]

Avant-Garde Food Critic [News Poem, March 18, 2010]

“Andrew Wetzler of the Natural Resources Defense Council said the CITES vote is not the end of the story for the bear.
"The ironic thing is that all the countries of the conference acknowledge that global warming is posing a huge challenge for this species," Wetzler said. "When you have a species threatened by global warming, it only makes sense to reduce all the other stresses, including hunting."”
-Deborah Zabarenko, Environment Correspondent Thu Mar 18, 2010 5:30pm EDT
http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE62H52R20100318

The meat of clones will never do
For palettes fine—refined like mine.
I've tasted polar bear ragout
And eaten baiji cooked in wine.

I never let the people say
I have no use for scarcer fare.
One cannot measure food's dismay
With what I gain: they don't compare.

The hypocrites are shocked I'm sure.
To keep their jobs, they smog with crude.
To keep their false facade secure,
They let machines prepare their food.

I'm keeping nothing, nothing's worth
The effort there, instead I seek
To keep myself well fed. My girth
Is sourced with doom, not death: unique

I'd say. I'd like to try the last taboo
And dine as cannibals once did:
Without remorse, I'd slurp that stew.
By eating youth, become a kid.

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Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Property Line [Today's News Sonnet, March 17, 2010]

Property Line [Today's News Sonnet, March 17, 2010]
“Armed groups who say they are fighting for a fairer share of oil wealth have also continued their campaign in the Niger Delta.”
--BBC, 19:09 GMT, Wednesday, 17 March 2010
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8573178.stm

The sacred things I've seen involve the dawn
Or twilight's calming rays. I've seen the moths
Of Fall emerge, en masse, the earthly spawn
Of secret cycles. Fog and wings—a broth
Of rebirth: swilled with coffee; morning news
Online. Before my work begins, I like
To note the zeal of life as I peruse
The news to see what makes the markets spike
Or plunge. So many things are on the line:
My stocks, developers, my boss. I work
Until the twilight's near. Beneath the pine
Outside, atop the fence, a heron lurks.
I think it's plastic. New. It turns its head
To me. I smile. It flaps and flees in dread.

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Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Under the Spreading Chestnut Tree [Today's News Poem, March 16, 2010]

Under the Spreading Chestnut Tree [Today's News Poem, March 16, 2010]
“Active Denial System, a weapon... using a beam of electromagnetic radiation to heat the skin of its targets to 130 degrees and force anyone in its path to flee in pain...”
“...the rise of television introduced a new political dynamic to the exercise of state violence...”
--Ando Arike, Harper's, p38-39, March 2010

“Antigovernment protesters pooled their blood — drawn by medical workers in air-conditioned tents — to unleash a red tide at the gates of Government House, the office of Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva, and later at his party’s headquarters.
“We will curse them with our blood and our soul!” yelled a protest leader, Nattawut Saikua”
--THOMAS FULLER, The New York Times, March 16, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/17/world/asia/17thai.html?hp

Shed no blood. Instead just drain the vital
Humors—juice a human, save the beaten
Husk for later. Revolution dies when
Martyrs live so break their champs—make might crawl.
Gin can't pair with victory—it sweetens
Loss too well and addles minds—the best pen
For the best of rebels, who had hoped to
Shed their blood. Instead, lost dignity spews.

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Working on News Poem

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Monday, March 15, 2010

Roman Disease [Edit of Today's News Poem, March 15, 2010]

Roman Disease [News Poem, March 15, 2010]

“Auferre, trucidare, rapere, falsis nominibus imperium; atque, ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant.”
-Tacitus

““The cost of war is something that we’ve not paid all that much attention to,” Dambach said. “Let’s dispel the myth that war is good for the economy. What utter nonsense. The average cost of a civil war … is 60 billion dollars, in places like Ethiopia, the Congo and Nepal.””

http://www.uwmpost.com/2010/03/15/uwm-welcomes-great-decisions-on-world-peace/

Somehow, even though the pompous tweeds
(Needing new unlikely theses) claimed
Time will beat America (who reads
Essays anymore?), they're right. They blamed
Nobody important, least of all
Colleagues snared by private enterprise—
Idolized. Success in abstracts thralls
Thoughtful people, leading to surprise
When barbarians (they're called) attack.
Don't they know the law is just a gun?
Legions guard the ivory tower's gates.
They should fear that history is run
Never won. The heirs of Rome update
Roman laws, accepting Roman fates.
Contracts—death in print, enforced by arms,
Jail, or poverty by credit rates—
Artifice of ink. The false alarm:
Greatness falls from heights. They don't equate
Wastelands with the peace. They should, for fee;
Ditching all their fake-ass modesty.
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Idle Worshipers [Today's News Poem, Part 1, March 15, 2010]

Idle Worshipers [Today's News Poem, Part 1, March 15, 2010]

“Auferre, trucidare, rapere, falsis nominibus imperium; atque, ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant.”
"To ravage, to slaughter, to usurp under false titles, they call empire; and where they make a desert, they call it peace."
-Tacitus

““The cost of war is something that we’ve not paid all that much attention to,” Dambach said. “Let’s dispel the myth that war is good for the economy. What utter nonsense. The average cost of a civil war … is 60 billion dollars, in places like Ethiopia, the Congo and Nepal.””

http://www.uwmpost.com/2010/03/15/uwm-welcomes-great-decisions-on-world-peace/

Somehow, even though the pompous tweeds
(Needing new unlikely theses) claimed
Time will claim America, who reads
Essays anymore? Besides, they blamed
Nobody important, least of all
Colleagues snared by private enterprise—
Idolized. Success in abstracts thralls
Thoughtful people, leading to surprise
When barbarians (they're called) attack.
Don't they know the law is just a gun?
Legions guard the ivory tower's gates.
They should fear that history is run
Never won. The heirs of Rome update
Roman laws, accepting Roman fates.
Contracts—death in print, enforced by arms,
Jail, or poverty by credit rates—
Artifice of ink. The false alarm:
Greatness falls from heights. They don't equate
Wastelands with the peace; they should for fee,
Ditching all their fake-ass modesty.



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Sunday, March 14, 2010

Photo Finish [Today's News Poem, March 14, 2010]

Photo Finish [Today's News Poem, March 14, 2010]

http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5getkHGhm80vwQc-tsoaRSLKbMHZwD9EELTK00
http://www.businessweek.com/news/2010-03-14/asian-currencies-weaken-as-wen-rebuffs-calls-for-stronger-yuan.html
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/03/14/AR2010031400368.html

Like usual I'll throw the ball at cat.
The two of you will probably compete.
To paw it first, to earn a praise and pat.
Perhaps I'll pause and think of near defeat;
America is in decline I've heard.
My son might live to chase on dirty streets
The heirs of better times: they're fucking turds.
Noblesse oblige perhaps will stick around
To fund the anxious lives that chase one thrill,
And flee another. Idle play is bound
To hasten futures such as this—the bill
Is due, I'll think, as light expands to trap
The cat in pounce. My son and I will—zap.



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Saturday, March 13, 2010

Future Inheritance of Acquired Characteristics [News Poem, March 13, 2010]

Future Inheritance of Acquired Characteristics [News Poem, March 13, 2010]

“A bill working its way through the state Legislature sounds like a science-fiction novel, with its wording to prevent the creation of "human-animal hybrids."”
–Alia Beard Rau, The Arizona Republic, Mar. 13, 2010 12:00 AM

http://www.azcentral.com/arizonarepublic/local/articles/2010/03/13/20100313embryo-cloning-bill.html

http://brainstormtech.blogs.fortune.cnn.com/2010/03/13/day-1-estimate-120000-ipads-sold/

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/14/weekinreview/14baker.html

A copse of trees applauds the sun on Mars.
The equatorial committees plan
To rise up early, drive to dawn in cars,
And shake the hands of voters—every fan.
The enemy has yet to fully blot
The rays of life, so public worship-rites
Combined with polls and military plots
Are prudent countermeasures in this fight
Against a beast with whiskers, tail, and fur.
They mine the first three planets—horde the sun—
And claim we share an origin—a spur.
The alien's hypothesis, we shun:
They call it history and claim from Earth
We both evolved—a lie that lacks face worth.



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Friday, March 12, 2010

Announcements, etc.

Also, lots of you are new. Don't forget to subscribe, or bookmark Toylit before you forget to do so. Lots of archives as well, just scroll to the bottom of the page and there should be a next page button around there on the center right.

Thanks for reading, tell your friends and if you want to submit something to Toylit, my contact information is on this page.

You're running out of time to get your own hard-copy of All the News That's Shit, in Print; First Edition. I'm trying to wrap up the End of Feb Edition of Toylit tonight. I'll give you an alert before I pull old versions from the shelves. Thanks to everybody who purchased a copy of the first edition. Hopefully it will appreciate and I'll be able to return the favor.

Also, feigned or real appreciation for sponsors will mean bonus poems tonight. That's not true, I'll probably write a bonus poem anyhow.

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Stimulation Simulation [News Poem (Sonnet) March 12, 2010]

Stimulation Simulation [News Poem (Sonnet) March 12, 2010]

“Two suicide bombers killed 43 people in near-simultaneous blasts Friday, the fourth major attack in Pakistan this week and a clear sign that militants have the power to strike targets despite months of army offensives and U.S. missile strikes.”
-BABAR DOGAR and TIM SULLIVAN (AP) – 1 hour ago as of 12:43pm PST, March 12, 2010
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5iY68JOyNIHbng1p0gU3svyBH9g3gD9ED97200

The simulated life has everything
But extra lives, a pause, a game-save point.
Command and conquer: take to drone-craft wing,
Or watch a thousand penises anoint
The one who was your soul-mate in past lives.
Debasing love and murder, playing games
With actresses and aircraft—what survives
Of awe, revulsion, beauty? Playing maims
When done like this: we have no sympathy
To spare—we weep in fraction, actor's tears,
And dole, in millionths, faithless empathy
To those we've trapped in mechanistic gears—
Until you see a man with tear-dried eyes
Explode his vest: then everybody cries.

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