( via / me )

(de Nerval: Artémis) DIANA

The thirteenth recurs… again, the beginning;
and it’s always the Only One, --or else that time:
for art, oh Queen, thou the first or final?
Thy king, the single or the latest lover?...
Love who loved you from the cradle in the grave;
this one I’d love alone loves me still green:
who’s Death—or the Dead… Oh anguish! Fever!
The rose she holds is the hollyhock.
   Neapolitan saint with hands full of fires,
purple-hearted rose, flower of St. Gudule:
hast found thy cross in the desert of the heavens?
White roses, fall! our deities you curse!
fall, pale spirits, from your sky that burns:
--The Saint of the Pit is holier to my sight!

(1983)

(Diamanda Galás recorded this.)

"I had a front row seat to the collapse of the global order. And I believed at the time that I understood what was going on. In the aftermath of the Great Recession, far-right extremists, aided and amplified by Russia’s Internet Research Agency and funded by Republican dark money, infiltrated fringe online spaces. They weaponized disaffected young men, and used sites like Reddit and 4chan to organize a flood of content that influenced the unthinking algorithms on larger platforms like Facebook and YouTube. But there were always holes in that explanation that I could never quite account for. A feeling — one that can be quite dangerous for a journalist trying not fall into the void of conspiracy theories — that there was something bigger going on. And while I can’t say that we have the complete story yet, it does increasingly feel like I was actually, without knowing it, following Jeffrey Epstein around the world the whole time." —Ryan Broderick via

Little owl on the wood fence.