Louis Pons, "A la va comme je te pousse". 1989.
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Louis Pons, "A la va comme je te pousse". 1989.

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Album · 1967 · 3 Songs
Today's necessary noise.
How did we get here?
What broke the compact? Several researchers identified the response to the COVID pandemic as a flash point. Public health guidance flailed initially on questions of masking, school closures and frontline drugs. It also produced a good vaccine in under a year, an unheard-of success. Ultimately around a million people died of the disease within the first two years.
The experience damaged trust in science and scientists. It’s still high—the number of people saying they have a lot of trust in science has hovered around 77 percent for years. But it was 10 points higher before COVID, and it now splits hard along lines of political affiliation. “Especially in the U.S. and with social media, all of a sudden everybody was an expert on COVID. So much of it was just bullshit,” Andersen says. “And then at some point bullshit was all that was left.”
Zarina Hashmi, "These Cities Blotted into the Wilderness". 2003.
Today's necessary noise.

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⥈ ⥈word that ends all words aglee with me what you do not do will destroy you break me like a glass behind every poem is a poem like imagini
I only get sunburned by distant stars and disputes regarding puddles (puzzles!) it’s only a tRIFLE as one realizes their only friend is a hunchbacked centenarian and her dog with a goitre shivering like artificial light the court of Charles V was astonished Alfred Jarry was irritated impossible music then the eyes opened: no, it isn’t you
Theresa Babb, “Grace and Mary at Ipswich Beach, May 30, 1900.” 1900.
Album · 1970 · 11 Songs
Today's necessary noise.
Larry Levis’s collected poems tell the present moment to go to hell.
<< Levis makes transits between places and between ideas that others simply might not risk. I’m not sure he earns that trust through anything other than description. He doesn’t justify it by any means other than his affiliation with humanity, and the understanding that a marginal existence, with a curiosity for unspoken lives, is a mandate to anyone who chooses to undertake poetry. For digression to undertake this argument for human value is for it to pledge allegiance to poetry’s intuitive powers rather than to any rational critique of our history or systems. These lines from “Picking Grapes in an Abandoned Vineyard,” a poem from The Dollmaker’s Ghost (1981), the collection immediately preceding Winter Stars, illustrate this point:
Fifteen years ago, I worked this row of vines beside a dozen Families up from Mexico. No one spoke English, or wanted to. One woman, who made an omelet with a sheet of tin And five light-blue quail eggs, Had a voice full of dusk, and jail cells And bird calls. She spoke, In Spanish, to no one, as they all did. […] Today, in honor of them, I press my thumb against the flat part of this blade, And steady a bunch of red, Málaga grapes With one hand, The way they showed me, And cut—
What does this landowner’s son know of the language he can’t understand? What right has the poet to cross class lines? It is simply because he is an artist. Here is the inner life required for that role: he wandered away from his parents’ house, and into the fields, and knew other people—that human digression, that veering off course, qualifies him. And if he speaks for them, it is because he possesses qualities we associate with poets, like the ability to be waylaid, and a shamelessness about wasting time. I don’t think of these as immediately moral qualities, but they become ethical routes. The margin from which he writes becomes the poem’s center. >>
Joe Milazzo, "unaccountable dictionaries filter scrutiny". 2026.

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John Carter at home, 3900 Carol Court, Culver City 90230 | August 31, 1976 (during the CODA interview) | Photo by Mark Weber MARK WEBER: Orn
Yes. I think that certain personalities go with certain instruments. While I have known that all along it took me a long time to associate that with myself – because it takes a long time to try and see yourself, and I’m still trying. Like I know that I am not a tenor player, but I’ve spent a lot of time fooling with the tenor saxophone. I played tenor in college because that was the only way I could get into the dance band. In those days I couldn’t read as well as other fellows could but I could solo better than they could so they needed me in the band for that, (laughter) So I got in on tenor.
James McNeill Whistler, "Nocturne in Black and Gold – The Falling Rocket". Circa 1875.
Today’s necessary noise.
Jamie Saft, Rhodes Scholar (Self-released, 2026).
Harry Braverman’s arguments in his classic book Labor and Monopoly Capital presciently forecasted much of our present labor regime — and can
Scientific management was distinct from actual science in that it did not revolutionize tools or technology. Instead, it sought to perfect capital’s control over labor by monopolizing knowledge of the labor process. Management separated conception from execution, assigning to itself the work of science and depriving the worker of any planning capacity. This negated craft knowledge (a key element of worker power) and degraded work “almost to the level of labor in its animal form.” Braverman’s focus on this particular form of alienation was likely informed by his own experience as a craft worker.
The historical process of degradation was born with the detailed division of labor in early manufacturing, perfected by Taylorism in the late nineteenth century, and intensified with technological advancements like computing throughout the twentieth century. This last phase, the “scientific-technical revolution,” marked a qualitative change for the labor process. Rather than reappropriating worker knowledge, management produced its own knowledge, leaving the worker in “ignorance, incapacity, and thus a fitness for machine servitude.” Science itself became capital, an instrument bent toward management and production rather than human flourishing. For example, the advent of “numerical control” technology — in which preprogrammed software moved tools automatically — divided and simplified the machinist’s work, transforming what was once control and knowledge of the machine into its mere operation.

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Alison Knowles, "Celebration Red" (1962–present).
Today's necessary noise.