The Ides Of March
March 15 is the Ides of March. It was a bad day for Julius Caesar. More famous people met their maker on March 15: 1937 – H. P. Lovecraft, 1975 – Aristotle Onassis, 1998 – Benjamin Spock, 2001 – Ann Sothern, and 2014 – Bo Callaway. Others were born with one week of winter remaining: 1767 – Andrew Jackson, 1926 – Norm Van Brocklin, 1933 – Ruth Bader Ginsburg, 1940 – Phil Lesh, 1943 – Sly Stone, 1947 – Ry Cooder, and 1959 – Fabio Lanzoni.
Progress on the @WernerTwertzog sonnet continues. 24 couplets have been rhyme fitted. This is enough for 3 proper sonnets, with 3 couplets left over. The next step is to separate out the couplets with long lines. These can be assembled into a sonnet, that will have smaller letters in the graphic incorporation. … Terrible Sobriety, the first of the twertzog sonnets, is on the air.
Call Me A ‘Purist’ Again turned up on facebook. The first paragraph is so entertaining … there in no need to read the rest of the piece. “More and more I run up against vagina hat-wearing keyboard warriors of the McResistance dismissing progressive rebels as “purists,” “purity ponies” and “purity progressives,” the idea being that if you don’t want to vote for Democrats who actively facilitate corporatism, warmongering and ecocide, you are somehow being unrealistic and unreasonable.”
This monolog is not working. It is three days later. The next chore is a writing contest, Week 4: Write for 5 right now. The picture is a lady, 23 ducks, and one dog. They are going somewhere. The other picture is a restored car, in the entry to a garage. The garage is somebody’s painting studio. Maybe that is where the ducks are going.
When looking for the contest, PG googled five minute timer. There are several devices for marking the passage of 300 seconds. If you start to type five minute into google, the suggested results are timer, journal, funk, fudge, heaven. Something called the online stopwatch will be used.
That goofy lady has done it this time. I tried to tell her that if you feed one duck, then all of his friends will expect you to feed them. But did she listen? No. She thinks that just because I am a dog, that she is not supposed to understand the common sense advice I give her. I am getting tired of these parades, but, unless I can find another meal ticket, then I am stuck with the lady. I should have wagged my tail faster when that gay couple was looking at rescue dogs. But no, I had to play it cool, and now I am trying not to step in duck poop. Does she even know where she is going? The garage-painting studio is over there, and ducks are not allowed inside.