VP Kamala Harris’s candidacy news, followed by the announcement of Tim Walz as her running mate, transformed a seemingly moribund campaign mood into a bumping party.
I happenstanced upon this poem yesterday. It pretty much sums up what you have just said. (I do keep my subscriptions to the NYT and WaPo because on OTHER fronts they still do good reporting. I just don't bother much with their political reporting, though I have noticed a shift towards more skepticism of "false equivalence" now that there are joyful voices spreading the policies--which are not new--and there is no more stutter to compare with trump idiocies.
After the first "debate" I felt a great malaise come over me but the "Three W's" (Work, Weed & Whiskey) saved my ass from further deterioration. Since then, I remain in balance!
Man, I should have tried that. I just kept thinking of people's short memories and that the other camp was bound to do something else to put the debate in the rearview. Then, in walked the "childless cat ladies" quote.
I happenstanced upon this poem yesterday. It pretty much sums up what you have just said. (I do keep my subscriptions to the NYT and WaPo because on OTHER fronts they still do good reporting. I just don't bother much with their political reporting, though I have noticed a shift towards more skepticism of "false equivalence" now that there are joyful voices spreading the policies--which are not new--and there is no more stutter to compare with trump idiocies.
Anyway, to the poem:
Golden Retrievals
BY MARK DOTY
Fetch? Balls and sticks capture my attention
seconds at a time. Catch? I don’t think so.
Bunny, tumbling leaf, a squirrel who’s—oh
joy—actually scared. Sniff the wind, then
.
I’m off again: muck, pond, ditch, residue
of any thrillingly dead thing. And you?
Either you’re sunk in the past, half our walk,
thinking of what you never can bring back,
.
or else you’re off in some fog concerning
—tomorrow, is that what you call it? My work:
to unsnare time’s warp (and woof!), retrieving,
my haze-headed friend, you. This shining bark,
'
a Zen master’s bronzy gong, calls you here,
entirely, now: bow-wow, bow-wow, bow-wow.
After the first "debate" I felt a great malaise come over me but the "Three W's" (Work, Weed & Whiskey) saved my ass from further deterioration. Since then, I remain in balance!
Man, I should have tried that. I just kept thinking of people's short memories and that the other camp was bound to do something else to put the debate in the rearview. Then, in walked the "childless cat ladies" quote.