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Beyond the Frame

by Vanderleun on September 1, 2020

What the 400 Americans who cared saw when they watched Biden “address the nation without questions.” yesterday:

What was outside the frame:

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Comments on this entry are closed.

H September 1, 2020, 12:37 PM

The Potempkin Candidate.

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Mike Anderson September 1, 2020, 1:04 PM

Jeez, shouldn’t that have been filmed on a SOFTBALL field?

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Gazelam September 1, 2020, 4:06 PM

So business is so bad in Delaware that hangars with 100-ton overhead hoists are sitting empty and waiting for a faux candidate/faux news conference telecast?

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Bandmeeting September 1, 2020, 6:53 PM

Hazel am, that was Pittsburgh.

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Bandmeeting September 1, 2020, 6:54 PM

Gazelam not Hazel am. Spellcheck, of course.

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Gazelam September 1, 2020, 8:42 PM

Right you are Bandmeeting. My mistake; here’s take 2:
So business is so bad in Pittsburg that steel mills are sitting empty and waiting for a faux candidate/faux news conference telecast?

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Neuday September 1, 2020, 9:25 PM

Hoist with his lone retard.

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rightwingterrorist September 2, 2020, 5:06 AM

GAZELAM, they’re sitting like that all over the entire country.

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WDS September 2, 2020, 10:24 AM

Joe: “I’m happy to be here for the 1st annual Hokey-Pokey festival.”

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Next post: Long Read of the Day: The Kenosha Shootings / Kyle Rittenhouse: A Tactical and Legal Analysis

Previous post: #I’mVotingForJoeBiden

Welcome to the New American Digest: 2003-2020

My Back Pages

Van der Leun: The Normblog Bio of Your Host

“From a student radical/hippie/leftist of the Free Speech Movement/Vietnam Day Commitee era and a full-on Democratic Liberal in the decades after, I think I’ve evolved a politics that is neither right nor left but is, in its elemental nature, draconian. In the last 20 years, I’ve taken apart my beliefs with a sledgehammer. Now I’ve got to put the surviving parts back together with tweezers and other ‘shabby equipment, always deteriorating’.”

A Wicker Basket

Comes the time when it’s later
and onto your table the headwaiter
puts the bill, and very soon after
rings out the sound of lively laughter—

Picking up change, hands like a walrus,
and a face like a barndoor’s,
and a head without any apparent size,
nothing but two eyes—

So that’s you, man,
or me. I make it as I can,
I pick up, I go
faster than they know—

Out the door, the street like a night,
any night, and no one in sight,
but then, well, there she is,
old friend Liz—

And she opens the door of her cadillac,
I step in back,
and we’re gone.
She turns me on—

There are very huge stars, man, in the sky,
and from somewhere very far off someone hands me a slice of apple pie,
with a gob of white, white ice cream on top of it,
and I eat it—

Slowly. And while certainly
they are laughing at me, and all around me is racket
of these cats not making it, I make it

in my wicker basket.

— BY ROBERT CREELEY