Summer is pulling shut, we’ve sent the love home and the chlorophyll is seeping away from the surface of things, peeling away as a veneer from the murder beneath. In the soggy south the poor are at each other’s throats.
I go to the bar, but I’m tired I will drink water and coke. this weekend I will not drink at all.nor will I smoke.
Excellent interview with Matt Taibbi, formerly of the eXile and, more recently, the New York Press here. Elucidation on the swing right of that free weekly and the disgusting plight of reason under the merciless wheels of ideologically violent christian culture cultists.
I watch the degraded plight of the poor left behind in New Orleans, and a line from the National’s “City Middle” keeps running through my head.
“Take me to the nearest major city middle where they hang the lights/where it’s random and it’s common versus common…”
It is clear and cool in New York City. I am tired and uneasy. Chaos right here in the States is peeling the paint off the illusion of safety, and the poor are left to float downstream.