Gravity, In Memoriam (1988-2007)

My cousin Gravity climbed up Alex's loft-bed ladder in Boston whenever she wanted and nobody could stop her. She hunted fireflies, gophers, squirrels, ants, moths, bats, and chipmunks with Annie, her sister, in their backyard in New Haven, and chased all the blue jays out of Connecticut. She slept on top of Alex's guitar case in Kent, OH, and she learned how to walk the edges of a clawfoot bathtub. She rubbed her face on fat books on Alex's floor in Brooklyn. Her favorite: David Lifton's hardcover Best Evidence. She watched the window on Waverly Place, making sure no one broke in and moved her water dish to the wrong side of the kitchen. I'll miss her. May Gravity have happiness and the causes of happiness, and may she be free from suffering and the causes of suffering.

John McCain Denounces Glenn Beck for Torturing and Killing All Those Dogs (Pit Bulls)

I looked down in shame rather than gaze at the bare branches where shaggy chamomiles rustled last summer from the Mayakovsky Tree. I twitched -- the faint whiff of floss string from beneath the carpet. John McCain gave a great speech today and I completely agree with him. Mark Garvin caught 60 squirrels, but when do I get to taste them? Might as well throw a baited line on the greasy couch. Play the fiddle in a yellow shirt. Sound a rusty oboe. Crawl friendless on my last remaining leg from behind the roofs of Bear Stearns and pay James Cayne $30 billion to play bridge and twitter grayly like a quail!

I completely agree with John McCain's repudiation of Glenn Beck for torturing and killing all those dogs (pit bulls). "Glenn Beck's torturing and killing of those pit bulls was not only wrong but divisive," he said. Funny how Glenn Beck never talks about those dogs anymore. I could rip to shreds the miniature tennis ball soaked in catnip, thinking it's mighty as God himself. "It’s common knowledge and has been reported in the media that Al Qaeda is going back into Iran and receiving training and are coming back into Iraq from Iran," McCain said in his speech. "That’s well known. And it’s unfortunate." Then Joe Lieberman, who punishes us because we don't love him enough, corrected him. The tennis ball thinks it's great big God almighty but is a dunce. "I'm sorry," McCain said, "the Iranians are training extremists, not Al Qaeda."

List XX

Pine rat and oak cat, squirrel to you.

Mint grows at the foot of the Snow Range, the first moon is the tiger's.

Born of the blue sky and a wild cat, cloud in thunder and rain.

Of the blue sky and a wild cat, under the cloud the three voices.

The brindled cat looked like a skeleton until he began to feed it.

It turns cats that do not belong to the hotel out of the garden.

That fat gray cat is the hotel proprietor's favorite.

The cat talks with Greek inflection.

Wafaa Bilal, "The Night of Bush Capturing"

"R.P.I. SUSPENDS 'VIRTUAL JIHADI'":

"The move capped a chain of events -- including claims the FBI was eyeing the artist -- that began last month when the College Republicans blasted the arts department as 'a terrorist safe haven.'"

"Bilal said his brother was killed in the conflict. His exhibit's stated intention is to highlight vulnerability to recruitment by groups like al-Qaida 'because of the U.S.'s failed strategy in securing Iraq.' It also criticizes 'racist generalizations and stereotypes as exhibited in games such as 'Quest for Saddam.'"

"Wafaa Bilal was named a 2007 Chicagoan of the Year by the Chicago Tribune, which wrote, 'No artwork created in Chicago in 2007 received as much attention as Wafaa Bilal's "Domestic Tension," an interactive performance piece that subjected the Iraqi-born artist to a month of bombardment by paintballs from Internet viewers.'"

"Virtual Jihadi" reopens at The Sanctuary for Independent Media this Monday.

Wastebasket Enemy Combatant is Glazed on the Inside and Stained on the Outside

The Wastebasket Enemy Combatant whispers about this and that. He raises himself, very pretty. He sinks into use. The Wastebasket Enemy Combatant is properly applied. He's broken. He reaches for the International Federation of Aerophilatelic Societies. He stumbles.

The Wastebasket Enemy Combatant shouts when foreign intelligence confuses Catty Shack chicken-flavored treats with evidence. He can't tell the difference between NF Formula and the miniature tennis ball soaked in catnip that hides underneath the ottoman.

He's aglow with subtle Christmas colors and robust flavors. The Wastebasket Enemy Combatant is made from chocolate brown wax linen. He's invoked.

He swells, designed for espionage, filled with canceled checks and Kleenex.

The Wastebasket Enemy Combatant turned upside down and greatly expanded in a twist-tie 13-gallon bag.

He gropes. He gets on with the matter. He cries, so bloated by new modifications that he threatens to swallow ordinary criminal investigations. He revives to protect the soiling orange dog. He counts how many blisters on an egg. He's forbidden from independent schools. The Wastebasket Enemy Combatant is wrapped in an umbrella organization for use in large die casting plants in Germany.

He talked of being used as an end. He ascended into the Scout movement. He was falling down drunk with judicial oversight and he set up an umbrella campus ministry group, including disciples. He hurried, administered by a secret court.