the center of your miiiinnnndddddd

Compromise in all things. That's one of my many false mottoes, one that surely could alleviate so much civic rancor in America if implemented in force today. I speak of moderation, something I've rarely advocated before. But this nation, by the intractibility of its polarized political camps, faces a threat to its unity unseen since the Whiskey Rebellion or the Bay of Teapot-Domed Pigstamp Acts of ' 77 (the century escapes me). Only a groundswell resergence of good archaic Moderate Centrism can save our fragile union.

But being an inveterate radical firebrand, like you I suspect, I cannot let go of my need to rabble-rouse loudly in the streets and gutters. Thus I present

Moderate Centrist Protest Slogans

"Less war!"
"Limited self-government for Tibet!"
"Less blood for more oil!"
"Scale back the Occupation(s)!"
"Retry Mumia on a lesser charge--say, second-degree murder--NOW!"
"What do we want? Border skirmishes and saber-rattling at the most! When do we want it? Sooner or later!"
"Meat is, at best, involuntary manslaughter!"
"Special rights for sodomites? No! Decriminalized bisexual polygamy? Maybe!"
"Revolution, though not the sole solution, is the one I advocate stridently, yet respectfully!"
"Ban the bomb from certain nightclubs and local-access cable stations!"
"It's either a choice or a child!"
"Get mostly behind at least a few of our troops!"
"Yankee, go at least as far as the International Date Line!"
"Jesus mitigates."

Fourteen Years

My number one son Elric is fourteen years old today. Fourteen! Today! But how? Just hours ago it seems he rode on my shoulders kicking and laughing as we sang "Yellow Submarine" and/or "Boris the Spider." Lord but I'm a lucky one, to see such an amazing nigh-on man come into his own before my wondering eyes. I love you so, mang, ese, Eeko, dream brother, best bold taller-than-father fellow of mine!

Should also nod skyward for the birthday of Grandfather Jack Meussner, nestled in the best of heavens with horses and fireflies and now his wife to keep him well outside of all time and age.

John Denver Radio Edit

I know I'm a little late on this, but. . . while reading WFMU's coverage of the FCC's warming re-war on "fuck," I found, embedded in the comments, "Annie's Song (clean radio edit)". This is necessary, good people. Stab thy little arrow icon at the Real Audio link here and click the Christ out of it!

Hell Comes in Spurts

Richard Hell discusses his new book in an interview with Uxorcide Girls, the choice bit of which is

RH: I’ve definitely done acid in my time. But I don’t know how to deal with the gay issue because to me it would be kind of creepy to say “no I’ve never had gay sex” because part of the whole point of the book was to challenge people with the idea of taking gay sex in stride. So, let me say this, all sex is gay sex.
DRE: What does that mean exactly?
RH: I think that’s definitive and doesn’t really require elaboration.

. . . and the rest of which is here.