Data Talks… (Celery Stalks)

Dec18

Fata Morgana !

Crunch the numbers and look at the data. I’m like:
Measurable outcomes for pleasurable incomes—
incorporate outsourced inhuman resources in-house. I’m like:
indicators for vindicators.
It’s all about the data, mama—
so man up, sit down, and move forward
like hard apps on software, like ram on a gigabyte. I’m all:
sit up, move down, man forward;
benchmarks as milestones, stone benches as mile-markers
measuring the change-talk: obstetric metrics
played out for pregnant pauses.
It’s about throwing out the carry-on
It’s about unpacking the lost luggage
It’s about documenting best practices of undressed actresses
until the data-driver fails the breathalyzer.
The data tells a story – memes of mastery cast in plastery:
DUCK the FATA (morgana) !

More Data-Driven Drivel HERE

But I DO believe in Global Warming – really I do !

Dec17

Then the fourth angel poured out his bowl on the sun, and power was given to him to scorch men with fire. And men were scorched with great heat, and they blasphemed the name of God who has power over these plagues; and they did not repent and give Him glory.

Revelation 16:8,9

I’m Not Dead (yet)

Dec11

Recueillement

Is verse a dying technique? How dead is poetry? Who killed poetry? Does anybody care? Is poetry dead? Is poetry dead? Is poetry dead?

Inquiries into the death of poetry comprise a tradition almost as rich and varied as American poetry itself. Earlier this month, a college literary magazine proposed a tidy solution to the evergreen problem: “if you have to keep declaring, over and over, that poetry is dead, it can’t actually be dead.”