I was up 'til the wee hours of the morning playing Risk, then awoke to watch & investigate rugby while the Accursed Sun was still low above the horizon, & later spent hours & hours walking the streets of downtown Flint seeing all that was to be seen at Back to the Bricks under a cloudless sky, bathed in the death rays of the Accursed Sun. I'm knackered. I report my weariness not as a dodge, not to get out of blogging about the weekend's happenings in greater detail, but because that weariness is paramount amongst this weekend's happenings. By relating to you that I'm knackered I'm relating to you the central preoccupation of my attention for the nonce.
Also, Flint rugby is a pack of lies, & I kind of hate being as popular as I evidently am. Those are proper Last Angry Man topics of the old school. More to follow.
The Rebel Black Dot State Song of the Day
John Linnell, "Arkansas" from State Songs, Vol. 1 (T.L.A.M.)
Commentary: "Arkansas" is actually about a ship, not the state, but—well, you'll see:
"The designers of the Arkansas
Were inspired to choose a form that was
The exact dimensions and the shape
Of the state whose name she bore.
Yes, the ship was shaped like Arkansas
And the hull was formed without a flaw.
Every detail had been reproduced
On a scale of one to one…"
Also, just this afternoon I began to consider using the Twitter, probably just to "tweet" the R.B.D.S.O.T.D., at least at first. Thoughts?
2 comments:
I am disappointed in Flint rugby for whatever did or did not transpire.
Also, I tried twitter. Didn't take, but maybe it will for you.
Rugby: Inaction-packed report to follow.
Twitter: The Secret Base is now in its twelfth year, so clearly I have the correct exhibitionist mindset; you, not being a venial blogger, might not have had that, old friend. But if "tweeting" really is just "micro-blogging," then the jump might be worth making—certainly worth contemplating.
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