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"[...]a vessel cleaving the dungeon of the waves[...]"
You're Love in the Time of Cholera!
by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Like Odysseus in a work of Homer, you demonstrate undying loyalty by
sleeping with as many people as you possibly can. But in your heart you never give
consent! This creates a strange quandary of what love really means to you. On the
one hand, you've loved the same person your whole life, but on the other, your actions
barely speak to this fact. Whatever you do, stick to bottled water. The other stuff
could get you killed.
Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.
Never miss a word
You're Infinite Jest!
by David Foster Wallace
While you1 consider yourself2 to be clever,
there are those3 who think you're just full of yourself or, perhaps worse,
playing a joke4 on everyone around you, and yet you are pretty sure that
you really are that brilliant after all, since people would hardly take the time to
get to know you5 if they didn't care very deeply about what you had to
say to them, to wit, about their lives, their hopes, their dreams, their fears, their
drug habits, and of course what videos6 they prefer to watch, since,
after all, your impressive vocabulary and tendency to go on and on7 makes
you seem superior, able to educate them, and really drive a sense of something
ineffable into their measly little skulls while you are not above making a cheap
gag or really going after anyone or anything or telling them about incredible
futures involving tennis, geopolitics, and
1Meaning you personally, not someone like you or your own
personal daddy, for example.
2As well as you can see yourself, which, frankly, may not be that well.
3Though we wouldn't deign to be so peripatetic as to name them here, mind.
4Jokes, though not common in Victorian England, were known to originate
sometime in ancient history, perhaps as early as the time of Babylon, or even before.
It is thought that the history of the joke plays an integral role in the mindset of
the characters depicted here, though you may disagree at this point, in which case I
am facing quite the dilemma in relaying this narrative, no?
5It is rather time consuming, after all.
6Ha!
7and on and on and on...
Take the Book Quiz II
at the Blue Pyramid.
You're The Metamorphosis!
by Franz Kafka
Though you think you're in the midst of a dream, the fact of the
matter is that your life has become a nightmare. The nightmare at first seems
horrific to you, but you are slowly able to adjust to the facts of the matter
and settle down and make do with what you've been given. There are those that
would say you're pointless and absurd, but you're really just trying to
demonstrate that people can (and do) adapt to anything, no matter how absurd
it is. Not that this will really inspire them to change, because they probably
don't understand.
Take the Book Quiz II
at the Blue Pyramid.
About Me
- Σφιγξ
- possesses wholly unmerited academic pretensions; examines love as an entomologist; collects haunted dollshouses; notes the lunar phase as regularly as the temperature; peruses field guides; reads like a serial magazine subscriptionist; functions through coffee and "mood" music; draws to the very corners of the page; takes notes on unlined paper; reads poetry as prayer; observes textual authority with the incredulity of fiction; suppresses the smart-ass answer(s); adapts as well as anyone beseiged by her own bibelots; she is a sensation seeker in spite of all of this.
9 comments:
Great for interstate driving...although I wince at the grammar.
Once again, you defy my claim to sociological death...
Does David Hockney's Pool with Two Figures (1971) reverberate at all?
It suddenly occurred to me that the trees in Exercise 31 were a bit derivative, in non-grown-up colors, with a vivisected eye (I had meant partitioning into light-scattering lenses that which was being penetrated with arrows à la Sebastian, the one by Mantegna, as a small child, I liked the best), but anyhow. It is the first of many exercises.
If I told you what I ran off to do in the evenings, and often, at lunch, it would be devastatingly boring. You might hold it against me, that I abide it, but I cannot forget about the person who (mostly) raised me.
So, if this is the next exercise, how to transform it?
Yes, July 9, 1937.
When I said boring, I said that because very few people with any understanding would understand. All throughout the experience, she was morally intact, and spoke to me in my head. She knew that she would need my help latter in life. She told me in passing one day, and I said I would. She told me, one evening after falling out of bed and hitting her head on a beveled drawer (requiring a few sutures); you should marry him, and I could not figure out what she meant. I was that dense.
She waited to die when we arrived at the place. Her will was very strong. I felt amputated and numb for months after April 2019, and I could not understand why. I never want anyone I love to die in a facility, so getting help from other family or an agency is key.
I do not want to think about it, yet that part exists in every story.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1VUgX6t_bAJH_Sf9AxYd2XvrU6CFTKXXu/view?usp=sharing
https://www.euronews.com/culture/2023/02/22/immersive-hockney-exhibition-offers-an-intimate-look-at-artists-60-year-career
Funny, I bought every out of sequence The Verve albums, and they were underwhelming after Urban Hymns (1997).
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