First day of school for both my high schoolers tomorrow!
Sunday, August 30, 2026
Gifts of Rain
I:
Cloudburst and steady downpour now
for days.
Still mammal,
straw-footed on the mud,
he begins to sense weather by his skin.A nimble snout of flood
licks over stepping-stones
and goes uprooting.
He fords
his life by sounding.
Soundings.
Seamus Heaney.
Launch Day
Cool launch of the Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope this morning (I was asleep):
STS-41-D (formerly STS-14) was the 12th flight of NASA's Space Shuttle program, and the maiden flight of Space Shuttle Discovery. It was launched from Kennedy Space Center, Florida, on August 30, 1984, and landed at Edwards Air Force Base, California, on September 5, 1984. Three commercial communications satellites were deployed into orbit during the six-day mission, and a number of scientific experiments were conducted, including a prototype extendable solar array that would eventually form the basis of the main solar arrays on the International Space Station (ISS).
STS-8 was the eighth NASA Space Shuttle mission and the third flight of the Space Shuttle Challenger. It launched on August 30, 1983, and landed on September 5, 1983, conducting the first night launch and night landing of the Space Shuttle program. It also carried the first African-American astronaut to go into space, Guion Bluford. The mission successfully achieved all of its planned research objectives, but was marred by the subsequent discovery that a solid-fuel rocket booster had almost malfunctioned catastrophically during the launch.
The situation at launch on 30 August turned out to be quite dangerous. Five days earlier, a tropical storm hit the Florida coastline, making landfall just south of KSC. Forecasters had seen the storm coming two days beforehand, but there wasn’t the time to roll Challenger back from the pad. It had to sit there and ride out the storm. Even after the storm was out of the way, the weather caused trouble. Heavy thunderstorms with lightning were in the area. The crew was told they could “man” the shuttle if they wanted to—a risky decision and not one that should ever have been left for the crew to make.
Saturday, August 29, 2026
Métempsychose
I believe in metempsychosis:
I wish I were a kettle,
A solfeggio, a rain of roses,
A lobster's caparison,A fat cat black and possessive,
The bear with the pale white of the pole
Or the old pensive elm
Sleeping, with a magpie on its shoulder,Or you, wavering beauty,
With your tender eyes and firm breasts,
At times docile and then haughty
Swollen with sap and pure blood,Or the black and yellow
Salamander at the bottom of a stump,
The Gartempe River or the Scamander,
The double kiss mouth to mouthEverything that lives, cries, sings and prowls
—The condor or the falcon,
The toad in the emerald
And the flame on the zircon,The pyre where Hercules crackles
The lark in the gonfanon wind...
—Or the tuber, if you prefer,
Hidden in the earth, nameless. —
Maurice Fombeure.
QOTD
The great men are going to get all we have and I think it is time for us to rise and put a stop to it...
Happy Shays' Rebellion Day to all who celebrate.
Friday, August 28, 2026
It happened one summer
I have long carried the memory of being awakened by this song on my clock-radio and having it running through my head all day at school.
First Known Use of the Word Was in 1880
Where laurel hedges hide the coal and coke
Our lawn-surrounded crematorium lies;
And every half-an-hour a puff of smoke
Shows what we loved dissolving in the skies—
Dear hands, dear feet, dear laughter-lighted eyes
And smiling lips which waited for a joke.
Now no one seems to know quite what to say:
Friends are so altered by the passing years—
Well anyhow it’s not so cold today
And thus we try to dissipate our fears.
I am the Resurrection and the Life!
Strong, sly, and painful, doubt inserts its knife.
John Betjeman.
Thursday, August 27, 2026
Doomed to Repeat It
They said, my saints, my slogan-sayers sang,Be good, my child, in spite of all alarm.They stood, my fathers, tall in a row and said,Be good, be brave, you shall not come to harm.I heard them in my sleep and muttering dream,And murmuring cried, How shall I wake to this?They said, my poets, singers of my song,We cannot tell, since all we tell you isBut history, we speak but of the dead.And of the dead they said such history(Their beards were blazing with the truth of it)As made of much of me a mystery.
David Ferry.
Wednesday, August 26, 2026
I see you shiver with antici...
This will always be Tim's biggest role in my mind, but let's not lose sight of his turn as patriotic Dr Petrov in Hunt for Red October.
quod amavi, illud iam non amo
What I once loved I now love less.
September leaves us shadows
but no light. I watch you undress,your body edged in darkness.
Miles on the stereo, those notes
that I once loved, and now love less—the glint of anger they suppress
turns a kind of airless blue,
admits no light. I watch you undressyour gestures of significance,
and leave me at a loss to know
what I once loved. I now love lessthan fluently, am forced to guess
at curve of neck and arch of brow.
But not at light. I watch you without redressto sound or sense. The needle lifts
at last from the refrain, its echo:
What I once loved I now love less.
But no; not light; not watching you, undressed.
Eleanor Stanford.
Jesus Fucking Christ
Not Tim Curry, too?! The world is just fucking crumbling every goddamned where I look.





