REPORT A PROBLEM
I've got a brand new theEEED!EEED!EED!EEED!EEED!sis. In my estimation, the best environment for writing, paintANGANGANGANGANGing, composing and so on--such infernal noise!--is silence. The modern world has far too much noise for good KACHUNK!KACHINK!KACHUNK!KACHINK! art rooted in contemplation to emerge freeEE!NAW!EE!NAW!EE!NAW!ly. Are they tearing up the sidewalk again?
Thus it should come as no surprise that, as an example, BANG!BANG! today's writers--the Pynchons and the RothsSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssss and the rest--can't hold a candle to the makers of fifPSH!PSH!PSH!PSH!ty years ago, guys like Hemingway and FaulkKIKIKIKIKner. Where was I? Anyway, that's my thesis. I don't have any proof.
"I'm just sick of it, I'm goddamned sick of it. Don't I have any restraint? Why is it like this every day, why this obsession, why this habit?"
"I can't help you, Trude. I don't got the bug myself."
"Some drastic action is in order, and I know people will talk because it'll be so obvious why I've had it done."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm gonna get my septum pierced. That's the only solution."
"That might just work."
Trude looked up at the sky. "Oh God, why must I feel the need to pick my nose 24/7?"
The poster is sponsored by a marijuana decriminalization organization. It shows an old woman beneath the words, "I smoke responsibly."
What's the function of that final word? It must mean she doesn't do anything fun. She doesn't gobble up 180g bags of Doritos while laughing at Cheech & Chong records; she doesn't write bad poetry; she doesn't make porn.
So why bother decriminalizing it? If we dopers have to suddenly act responsibly, then aren't we simply gaining another set of masters and another set of laws?
Instead of "I smoke responsibly," shouldn't it say, "I am willing to smoke obediently?"
An inch.... A single inch.... To go a single inch.... But ... as the paradox ... goes....
First you ... must ... go a half inch ... and ... before that ... you have to go ... a quarter inch ... and so on ... and so on....
And therefore ... motion is ... impossible ... and yet ... we move pretty ... good enough....
It makes sense ... because the Greeks ... were all ... adolescents ... once upon a time....
I remember ... inching ... closer ... inching ... closer ... nearly ... touching ... Yolanda's ... nipple....
-Reminds me of that scene in
-The one in the hut? Yeah. Or the end of
-Uh. Hey, have you seen
CÚline et Julie vont en bateau
-You really should.
-Let's check out the
Cahiers du Cinema
Rocco e i suoi fratelli
-Seen it. How about
Touch of Evil
-Please! Okay, let's just go through the list. Seen it, haven't, seen it, haven't, got it, need it, need it, got it...
-Got it, need it, need it, got it, got it...
Jack stopped dead in his tracks and said,
"Wait a minute. I just realized something. This is the sixth major crisis I've been through in nine years, and each time, if I'm not mistaken, the crisis is resolved approximately 24 hours from its onset. Weird, isn't it? It's like it's all planned out the day before or something. But: by who? Ah, who cares? It'll all be over in twelve hours no matter what we do. So don't sweat it. In twelve hours everything'll be all sewn up. Alright. I'm gonna go have a meal, take a crap, and sleep."
Richard Dawkins is in a town and it's flooding. The water's about four feet deep. A guy comes by in a boat and shouts, "Hey! Dawkins! C'mon! I'll take you to the high ground!" Dawkins says, "No thanks. Science will save me." Next day, the water's all the way up to the second floor. Some guys come by in a boat. "Dawkins! C'mon!" "No thanks; Science will save me." Next day, Dawkins is on the roof. Helicopter comes by. "Dawkins! Grab onto the rope!" "No thank you. Science will save me." Next day, Dawkins drowns and goes straight to Hell.
I looked. I had The Nuts.
Verb bet blind. Adjective saw. Adverb folded. Noun raised.
I've got you all just where I want you.
I hesitated. And saw.
Verb, Adjective saw.
Verb took three, Adjective and Noun took two each. I casually took one.
I made a small bet. Verb saw, Adjective saw. Noun hesitated, and raised.
I made another small bet, which they all met.
Cards were exchanged. I bet big.
Verb saw, Adjective folded. Noun raised.
I met and raised. Verb folded.
Noun raised. Me, Noun, me.
I showed Noun this story, and collected.
Angelina Jolie today announced that she has formally adopted the entire population of Dakar, Senegal.
"It's, like, I have to give back something?" Ms Jolie was quoted as saying. "I mean, like, I'm a public person? and people need, like, help? and George Bush doesn't, like, care about black people?"
Approximately 1,200,000 adoptees will take up residence in Jolie's mansion starting June 1st. 800,000 will move into the guest house, while the remaining 500,000 will reside in the rooms over her garage.
Ms Jolie thereby easily breaks the record set last month when Madonna adopted the people of Kolwezi, Congo.
A god must have raped your mother and spawned you. Which god?
I'm looking for a relationship grounded in honesty. You look fat in that.
Hi. My name's Hammer. Wanna get nailed?
Excuse me, but you seem to have urinated all over my face. You haven't? Oh, sorry. Sometimes fantasy precedes reality.
Save for a great many, you are the most beautiful woman in the whole world.
They let you come here often?
Do that again. I love when women fart.
Is that the inverse of a fat kielbasa in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?
I don't get it. I have the IQ of a genius--142--and yet I can't seem to get anything right. I'm surviving, certainly, sure, but shouldn't geniuses be above average, successfulnesswise? I don't seem to get recognition for the things I do, or at least it seems that way to me. At all those big universities there are guys who publish and stuff and get prizes galore. Me, I never got a single prize for anything. I just can't figure it out. Maybe having a character that's rotten to the core has something to do with it.
I am a rare bird. I am a female
. When I ride the subway, I look for the extra-crowded cars. Just looking at all those people, all that potential, get my juices flowing. I push myself on, with plenty of apologies. They don't know! My favourite position is back-to-back, when I can feel a man's shoulderblades and ass pressing against mine as the train rocks. (My heart races just thinking of it!) On three occasions I've gone all the way without even touching myself. All in all,
is almost as pleasant as pretending you've been raped.
What is the capital of Indiana?
What are the dimensions of 'legal size' paper?
8.5 x 14.
How many bushels are in a peck?
Tricky! A quarter.
North and South? Elizabeth Gaskell.
What horse delivering a pickle?
Um, Trevor Jones.
How many cigarettes in a Canadian large?
Who recorded 'All Eyez on Me'?
2Pac. I'm on a roll!
Which of these four figures does not belong?
The third one.
Who preceded David as King?
How many horses for a carriage-and-four?
Four, of course.
Then I woke up before knowing if I'd won first prize.
At the banquet I looked around and saw Carrie sitting alone. I went over and sat with her. We talked about the banquet. She showed me her modest collection of laminated Flintstones cards. Mike came along and sat with us. A friend of Mike's came by, pulling his boyfriend in tow. Mike's friend was presenting, so he left his boyfriend with us. As I was filling out the icebreaker quiz, Mike and the boyfriend started flirting by flicking water at each other. That's when I asked myself,
How come I always end up sitting at the homosexual's table?
12 WAYS OF LOOKING
You're looking at me with those eyes again.
Again, you're looking at me with those eyes.
With those eyes, again, you're looking, at me.
At me with those eyes again you're looking.
You're looking again with those eyes at me.
Again at me with those eyes you're looking.
Looking again with those eyes at me you're.
Again eyes those with me at looking you're.
With those eyes you're looking, again, at me.
At me again, you're looking, with those eyes.
You're again looking with those eyes at me.
Looking you're again at me with those eyes.
When it comes out of the closet, why do I start jumping up and down like I've lost my fucking mind?
Why do I let myself be tethered like this, why do I almost fucking choke myself to death trying to get away from it?
I pull and pull and pull, so why do I want it around my neck so much?
The bitch at the end of the leash sometimes cries out, "Dog!" or, "Sit!" and, goddammit, I stop! Why?
Why don't I try to kill her, at least once? Why do I love the leash?
Kibble! Kibble! Kibble!
What's he saying up there?
Hmmm, that makes sense to me. If that's that, then this is this. Yes.
Oh, there's more. Well, that only follows naturally.
Hey, wait. That doesn't make sense. Or does it?
appears to believe it. Maybe....
Oh, wait, there's some more. "Under certain circumstances, that's this, and this is that." More complex than I thought.
How often was that, how often did he say? Oh.
Sometimes this is
that, and the other way around.
Wow, he's subtle.
Well, that settles it. I'm voting for him.
Call me one of those suckers for
Julie cries after the Cardinal accuses her of inconstancy. He asks, "Are tears your justification? The self-same tears will fall into your husband's bosom, lady, with a loud protestation that you love him above the world."
After the marriage is revealed, Brabantio says to his son-in-law Othello, "Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see: she has deceived her father, and may thee."
And John Skow wrote, "Nothing is more pleasurable than to sit in the shade, sip gin and contemplate other people's adulteries, and while the wormy apple of marriage still lives, the novel will not die."
A mover, a shaker, a shover, a maker,
Seen down at the water today,
Did ponder, "How cross we the stream or the lake or
The sea or the ocean or bay?"
The mover he thought was the water a stream and
The crossing required a leap;
The maker'd had always a nautical dream and
His ocean awaited the neap;
The shaker believed that a sea was he seeing
And knelt down and prayed for a part;
The shover a lake saw and felt like decreeing
Its name as his name for a start.
Who that day
Saw a bay?
Mary and I went to the massive Algonquin conservation area. We portaged into Burnt Lake. It was raining it was September it was miserable. (We even had miserable sex.)
We were starving for something hot we had a box of noodles. In the drizzle I gathered up near-dry kindling and tried to get something of a fire going. We suspended a pot of lake water over it. It steamed but didn't boil. I huffed and I puffed. Steam rose from the pot, but no boil.
And I said, "Maybe you can't get water boiling on an open flame."
An anonymous though highly placed source has informed us of a secret relationship between the manufacturers of a particular brand of waffle iron and the makers of a certain type of instant pancake batter.
It appears that Wafflers Ltd., of Rhode Island, and Pancakers Inc., of Connecticut, are owned by the same multinational corporation. They have made no attempt whatsoever to conceal this collusion, and critics are appalled.
This clandestine arrangement serves merely the ironsmiths who create the raw materials for the Wafflers, the wheat mills who grind for Pancakers, and reporters such as myself who know fuss sells newspapers.
There was thunder and lightning this morning. I had to go to work anyway. As I walked through the heavy rain, there was a flash, and a crack a couple seconds later. I wondered if it was heading towards me or away from me. I tried to imagine getting struck by lightning, but I couldn't. You see, there is no warning when one gets struck. How could there be? It's faster than sound. (See above.) And your synapses would over-fire immediately, meaning there'd be no time to say, "Lightning." You'd be, then not be.
I understand it's made of
"I'm telling you it's true!
Madman Across the Water
, the song, it's about Napoleon, man! Just look at the symbolism. The boat on the reef is Napoleon's return from Alba, washing him ashore. The joke he knows: it's that palindrome, right? and, "get your coat," right, that's about his coat, you know, the one he stuffed his hand into allatime? And the singer, he's a madman, because he's Napoleon observing himself, see? An' that's why the windows, or the mirrors, are painted black. It all, it all has to do with Elton wanting to be fucked by Mick Jagger. See?"
What kind of a thing is this humanity they all talk about? The wise man said, "Humanity is like morning mist. You can see it ahead, you know you're walking towards it, you're getting closer and closer. Maybe you think, 'What is that up ahead, what is that mist? When I get close enough, I'll know.' And you walk and walk and walk, but it always seems to be receding. Try as you might, you can't get close enough to understand the mist. You look around but, since you're unenlightened, you think it is always impossibly far away from you."
Vicious and cruel are the moments we two can share
Violent and red like the blood I bleed over you
And if I could find a way from your grasp, I'd just stand and stare
For vicious and cruel are the moments we two must share.
Killer, it's me in your skin buried deep down there
Being from you I've a dryness you'd better beware
And if you don't burn my underarms, til the muscles lay bare,
I'll humiliate you before friends, til you're red as my hair,
'Cause vicious and cruel are the moments we two can share.
Finally I remembered what it reminded me of.
Years ago, Mary videotaped a play written by one of the OISE professors. The play had been performed in schools across the province. It was an anti-racist play. After I'd seen about ten minutes of it, I asked Mary, "Is it just a bunch of people screaming at each other about race?" She nodded. The play read like it had been written by a favoured high school student and performed by other favoured students who yelled at each other without a hint of drama.
was exactly like.
SUICIDE GIRL OF THE HOURS
Ravaged by needles, and pins, pinned up beside,
One of my pin-ups looks up at me with a sneer;
Suicide Girls get lonely like all of us (or so
Everyone knows save every one of the pinned girls.)
Earth's but a pin in the pinned-up sky (or so I hear),
Reaching from rim to rim and spinning like a liberated yoyo
Over our heads; and this pic clicked to pay for your courses
Some time seems to sing
by a solo Beatle.
Bring your pins. I'll bring a compass.
See you at the centre.
PARSING └ LA LUCIER
What's to come? Horses mass the empty plane.
Pronoun-verb preposition verb? Noun verb article adjective noun.
Noun noun noun? Noun noun noun noun noun.
I wish I was modern; unfortunately, I can persistently sense good and evil.
Pronoun verb pronoun verb noun; adverb, pronoun verb adverb verb noun conjunction noun.
Noun noun noun noun noun; noun, noun noun noun noun noun noun noun.
Prophesy ain't all it's about to be cracked up to be.
Noun verb noun verb preposition preposition noun noun preposition preposition verb.
Noun noun noun noun noun noun noun noun noun noun noun.
THE TROUBLE WITH TRACY
Say what you aesthetes want to about television: advances in the representation of reality
taken place in the last three decades. A lot of literary critics say there's really no progress in artistic representation, but the quantifiable leap in the
of representation, from
The Trouble With Tracy
belies description. I am not speaking of dramaturgical complexity; I am not referencing Ibsenesque characterization; rather, I am noting that for the duration of
, when a door was slammed, not
have the walls undulated from the impact.
The baby boy, the baby boy.
The baby boy lies in his blue crib.
Baby boy licks the blue balloon and there are sounds.
Baby boy runs through the park and is excited by the motion of his arounds.
Boy loves mommy.
Blue baby cries. The boys at school are cruel.
Blue baby discovers defence; Baby becomes
The baby boy drives over the rolling hills and is excited by the motion of his surroundings.
The baby boy is told that there's so much to happen in life. Just wait! Just you wait!
Baby boy, boy.
Baby loves his mommy.
-You get on top. I'd prefer you to be on top. You want me to be on top? I don't have to be, I guess. I'll lie down here for you. Stand up! Why do you want that? I want to see. See this? C'mon, you on top. I'll get you going, I'll get you off. Sounds good, lovely. Climb aboard! We should stop talking so much. I like talking. Me too. I'll be on top. I'll be on the bottom. Take the top if you want. So: What did you do with him? I'll show you if you want.
The Tip Jar