The one semi-redeeming quality in Donald Rumsfeld was his poetic streak. Who can forget this classic?
The Unknown
As we know,
There are known knowns.
There are things we know we know.
We also know
There are known unknowns.
That is to say
We know there are some things
We do not know.
But there are also unknown unknowns,
The ones we don’t know
We don’t know.
(From Hart Seely’s collection at Slate, “The Poetry of D.H. Rumsfeld”)
We’ve heard a lot from Dick Cheney since he crawled out of his bunker and left office, but what has Rumsfeld been doing with himself? Well, based on the deluge of penis email that is swamping me lately, I think he’s found a second career – as a spamwriter.
Consider these little gems, which are taken verbatim from the emails except for deleting the link in the middle of each one; I’ve only arranged them as I think an editor might do for Rumsfeld:
blithe spirit behind ocean
(link)
clodhoppers somewhatoverwhelmingly haunch inside pork chop
(link)
ruffiansaround cough syrup
(link)
starlets oftenshadows lazily
(link)
tenor toward photonand hypnotic
(link)
abstraction inside related to hoststalactites inexorably
(link)
waif behind globulebecause brides
(link)
assimilate for dust bunnyguardian angel inside philosopher
(link)
necromancers slylyoperate a small fruit stand with
(link)
beyond abstraction goes to sleep
The fruit stand is a recurring motif, by the way. I suppose it’s significant that it’s a small one.
Some of the subject lines have also been outstanding, if a bit less poetic:
- SexualAndEroticAnaesthetizeForMirths
- BelieveInViagraSlangDopeForFortitude
- ProfessionalDownerForGladnesssWillCareAboutSex
- StandardTestedViagraSuperActiveOpiateForMerriments
Here’s watching y’all lots of mirths and merriments without too much erotic anesthesia.
And on this Election Day, may we all be spared the poetry of Rumsfeld in our new officeholders.
Patron cat of Kittywampus (1985-2001)
Thanks for a good laugh. Gerard Manley Hopkins without the spirituality. It reminded me of the infinite number of monkies coming up with the works of Shakespeare. I think the monkies have a better chance, but I had wondered about the unintentional beauty of the random, which I don’t think can be called art. I think art implies artifice implies intention, but my son thinks I’m a charming loan reactionary (bless him).
Thanks again.
Reg – but what about those artists who embrace the random – whose work is based on it and celebrates it? Or would you not call that art?
I do feel like a monkey, though. Maybe it’s monkeys who are composing the penis spam? That would account for the randomness, the repetition, and the fruit stand motif.
HAHAHA!
Somebody did one from the Nixon White House tapes, it was hilarious. Might have been the National Lampoon.
The only one I remember…Nixon haiku from the tapes:
Who the hell are they after?
They are
After
Us.
So I’m starting to wonder if it’s only Republicans that become unintentional poets? Maybe it’s the return of the repressed – Mark Sanford’s psyche in a more poetic vein?