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Honor the Ass
By Eugenio Montejo
Translated by Kirk Nesset

Honor the ass for the star
of stupidity by which it illuminates.
For its slow petrified solitude,
so docile and useful.
Honor the ass that carries the poet
along through the world,
pricking his long ears
before each of his lines,
whatever the music.
Honor the ass, honor his box of butterflies,
where he stores the blows of God and men
and never complains.


Younger son's official last day of elementary school is over and I have no idea where the hours went. All right, that isn't exactly true: there were clothes to be washed, a trip to the pharmacy, a trip to the food store, a couple of trips shuttling children and their friends to various houses and other very exciting domestic things like that. Plus I finished my Shutterfly book about our trip to England because I realized that my coupon for lots of money off was about to expire, and I got Father's Day stuff taken care off and kids fed and while folding laundry I watched the last two episodes from last season's Torchwood. I'd seen "Captain Jack Harkness" before but not "End of Days" which I'd heard was quite bloody, though it wasn't nearly as bad as the Welsh cannibals; both reminded me a great deal of X-Files episodes, which I mean in a good way in the case of the former and a bad way in the case of the latter but I'll take the up-and-down. And now finally I see why there's so much Ianto/Jack slash, though in this case I see it the way I see Chakotay/Seven of Nine; hard to deny it's there, but that doesn't mean I have to enjoy it.

Okay, may I just admit now that the Live Free or Die Hard previews put a smile on my face every time, which makes me suspect that I am a shallow, pathetic human being? And that when my mother keeps finding excuses to drag out a phone conversation from the other side of the world so she can keep saying "I love you, honey" to try to guilt me into saying it back -- we're talking six times in one conversation, much of which was about how she has found ways to be bored on a cruise in the Aegean -- it not only makes me not want to say it, it makes me never want to say it? She tries to compel it not only from me, but from my children, from whom she will demand it directly, and I know this means I am a terrible daughter as well as a pathetic human being but I can't help resenting this. Ah well, I see that the basketball season is over. For this week. Like the hockey season I am pretty sure it starts again next week. But how come the network didn't pay San Antonio to throw this game so they'd get ratings money?

Seen in the Great Falls parking lot last weekend, a license plate that sums up my feelings about so many things this week. *g*

ETA: [livejournal.com profile] vimeslady posted this information about anal eroticism and Harry Potter and I am absolutely howling. Because, you know, fannish interests aren't mainstream and must be hidden from the children and normal people...


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