we saw this kid in the lush grass and had to swing by and he has an underbite and the spunk of a terrier chihuahua and chased charlie but charlie was cool and submitting and then they  frolicked around and charlie got a good belly rub. we talked about the obamachron travesty and the neighbor who cut down 5 acres of trees next door to her place just like the obamachron. bad neighbors. it's gonna be a real shit show, we laughed grimly for goodbye. good dogs though. and lush grass.

 sneaking lulu on the clay court.

 whoa! i got goosebumps! flabbergasted is the word! rafa!

 since the campus is crawling with graduation constructions i lead friedl and benny through the gap in the fence of the clay courts and through the delta anarchy house backyard. we talk about the pursuit of money to the cost of collapse and about r.'s broken wrist and f. tells me she crashed her motorbike off a bridge on poros island in greece and broke her wrist. we got these funny dogs and we talk about such serious things.

 charlie in the wonderful wonderful law school reflecting pool.

even tho djoko and rafa are in a epic contest in the 4th set after midnight in france i take a quick pop up to give to you your daily obamachron. man it's a dead zone. selling your soul for worldly power is the american suckcess story.

 take yer pic. charlie at law school.

 i don't know what it is, but something about this place just gives me the creeps. well pokey, perhaps due to the fact that it's the incubator of the spawn of the global neoliberal elite. oh, is that what it is.

 who do you root for? rafa or djoko? heck, it don't matta. boat of um's all good wit me.

 long grass charlie. the kid looks good in spring green. well, i reckon everybody does, but this kid, oh yeah.

 i remember when obama with his self-satisfied smile said gentrification in the neighborhood will happen in his grandkids' time.

 the guy who lit the walking man on fire was caught. he said he thought it was just a pile of rags, but the walking man was clearly exposed. this kind of evil can't be explained. hate is weaponized in the land of the free.

 charlie had a good dog weekend in a rural spot playing off leash with her human mom the first time. she was nervous about charlie wandering off. everybody has wandering attention. the thing is to keep calling each other's back. 

how much time do we have? heddy honigmann who made the films forever and buddy died. dogs don't live that long but that's just perspective—for dogs, it's only life.

 

there's some weird shit going on at the bottom of the memorial obamachron.

 i saw a documentary about sean scully and i was lukewarm but then i thought he's not bad and i like that he has a simple plan and it's a warm grid he does again and again and initially no one wanted it but now i think he's totally set for life and he's my age making large paintings and babies. but then bono sings at the end and i think of baby bush who slaughtered people and then started painting and laughing about invading iraq. oh, because i saw a picture of bono and baby bush hugging and mugging. i didn't like the song anyway, it was schmaltz. i thought about artists that don't evince any connection to the planet of suffering and that's ok because they might create a visual space of sanctuary where in the world there's very little except for the people who can buy one, who may be same ones who create hell for others but i digress. in the shower i had something simple and profound to say that was like a dream that drained away.

 where does conviction come from? the one from belief. where does belief come from? 

 there was no benny for lulu, just us, and a lot of empty chairs on the quad for the dead, or graduation, and two birds of blessed memory.

i'm sorry to tell ya

normal planetary boundaries 

are being breached 

leading to global 

catastrophic riskers.

 the orange cat dreams and the white cat cries and i bite my tongue.

 the last two days have been tennis and cats. this is cat life except for tennis. everything changed in a moment when r. went to dog sit and broke her wrist. later in the week when she comes back we'll have tennis and bone healing and cats.

 due to imperial hubris and overreach global civilizational collapse looms. 

admitting that water always wins is not weakness; rather, it’s the foundation for strength because it allows us to begin a conversation about what comes next. by planning ahead, we can move toward something better—say, a more sustainable, equitable neighborhood—with less upheaval. in letting go, in providing space for coastal ecosystems, we acknowledge the power of waterlands—to hold water, to hold carbon, to hold life, including us.

—popular resistance

 i know i don't know and i know tweeting does not enlighten me              and everything seems to be incorporated into the corporate oligarchy.

 i was talking about penny and she asked what kind of cat is she and i said an orange cat and she said i don't think i've ever seen an orange cat and i reacted predictably saying really wow and then afterword i recall recalling she said that a few times before. 

             you may feel hesitant and unsure of yourself today. it's ok.

summer fireworks, house party by the tracks, churning into sunday night. what will it sound like when the obamachron opens? will it be louder? i haven't gotten used to the pulsating music from the train track embankment, shaking the remaining trees, vibrating the birds' air-filled bones and muffling their song. we don't know what it'll sound like when his tower's built, but i already can hear the throbbing echoes bouncing off the future stone walls of the amplified obamachron memorial park.

the obamachron memorial park. it's real summer now—fireworks, and the sunday house party by the tracks goes all day long into the night. i wonder what it will sound like when the obamachron opens. will it be louder? maybe it will be an endless party. it is said you can get used to anything. uncle eddie lived near the end of the runway by the airport and claimed he didn't hear the planes anymore. but that was uncle eddie—not the sensitive kind. i still haven't got used to the pulsating house music emanating from the train track embankment, shaking the remaining trees, vibrating the birds' air-filled bones and muffling their song. well we won't know what it will sound like til his tower's built. i imagine the throbbing echoes bouncing off the future stone walls of the obamachron.

 me and my french open couch tennis partner penny lu.

 i think we must love disaster. we give it our money, we vote for it, we play the fool for it, we pay for it.

 8:15, J. wouldn't eat. 9:16 J. ate. 9:20 J. barfed. 9:26 J. cried for food.

       a society led by mass murderers will produce more mass murderers. 

sunday morning with cactus jasper.

 there's a place of desolation, across the street, a despoiled place that was a park. now it's the obamachron, and it will never be the people's park again.

 be patient with others today including yourself.

 yesterday i missed half of the french open asleep so i said i'm getting up at 4 tomorrow. then i ate a pile of snacks and fizzy drinks and watched a grim moodie irreversible and wondered if i would rise on time. i looked at my phone at exactly 4:00 and now i'm watching the 2nd match, claylah fernandez, with snoozing cats. the picture is totally unrelated, the shadow of the obamacrane.

 memorial saturday. a place of desolation also known as the obamachron.