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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.
12 comments:
Larvae: Roman ghosts or spirits of the dead which can return to the world of the living.
http://www.carnivalofvenice.com/documento.asp?id=31
"Mirrors" from Hybrids of Plants and Ghosts
Jorie Graham
For some of us the only way of knowing we are here at all, going
across and going down,
exquisitely temporal though at no point believable; fragile; tragic.
The mirror redeems
the desire to wish,
what we cannot see of ourselves staring back with its most accurate
face.
The closer you come
the less believable--
life-size that dangerous democracy that will destroy its subjects.
Lookalikes, miniatures,
as in the world of pine, are stabs at freedom:
this limb twisted impossibly, that height not naturally achieved,
achieved. Or,
taking the lodgepole: in the clearings
their maps are unreadable, carrying their off-centeredness
with vanity,
true love,
slow and doubling like ideas not yet come to term--but stubbornly
growing thick and burying themselves
in themselves
While in the forest,
the modest chemistries of need force all of them to grow cleanly
identical, histories
where only present tense survives,
the lower limbs all shed in compromise--as if in such a crowd
being overlapped and overlooked were being free...
Too many arrows
for identical hearts,
unwavering, unvarying, every one a hero, a mind
made up. What industry.
What will we become from lack of uselessness. What will we become
without that acute, fancy love--
branch off my own tree bent back to taunt and almost look alike.
*Officially, referencing:
"'Mirrors': The second line is from Hollingdale's translation of Nietzsche, "What can be loved in man is that he is a going-across and a down-going" (Übergang und Untergang) (p. 44)"
**Unofficially, referencing ?
Wuthering Heights, Chapter 17:
"And we'll see if one tree won't grow as crooked as another, with the same wind to twist it!"
***Unofficially, referencing ?
Franz Kafka:
"The arrows fit exactly in the wounds they have made."
I like it that the analysis of the film is erased.
It is strange rereading what I had not known existed, parallel to myself, and realizing if I posit these current thoughts with anyone five years, a decade from now, with anyone else, I would be reminded that they were yours. I mean it very sincerely, cautiously, that I have taken many parts of you into myself, to make them signify.
I am not sure exactly what I said or omitted to warrant an investigation. I ruined things acknowledging that the Lispector text followed abortion? One could not properly trace around that; I have never been pregnant, so I can judge anything that happens after the fact. It is not a refutation, and I do not mean to hurt your feelings when I blunder into something.
Yes, the masked ones. It will soon be time to look in the Dream Diary.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QWn6ttf9NRg&list=PLdf9pHBWxlcPNuSfkR_d0XZ24WXbp4Zfk
http://www.yannarthusbertrand.org/en/exhibitions/earth-from-above
Michael Haneke's La Pianiste (2001). I had been thinking all day about a write-in in the local paper about a ruined marriage over compulsive porn watching. It seems rather frequent; the loss of intimacy over the shortest path through the ancient reward circuit. What is most hurtful, I think, is not being able to ameliorate the situation.
In the endurance to be my best, I know I frequently displease you, but I am committed never to take the route of mindless addictions. I would alter my behavior, not only out of consideration for you, but because your judgments and example demonstrate the most self-realizing behavior as an individual, and as a couple.
There is another interrogation of the mirror by the same reader using the same, "re-pair".
And the eyes of both of them were opened. Then there is the Eye that pushes form beyond its limits, into creation, which operates partially blind to the realities, and frequently, in opposition to them?
"When I opened my eyes I found myself on my back and at our feet was an apple tree packed with red apples. I couldn't believe my eyes and felt for his hand. When I found it, he started to laugh and made me sit up. Then I realised what had happened, because I saw the grey shattered planks. One wall of the shack had fallen outwards on to the field. The pictures of the boxers were in the grass facing the sky. I was pushing, saying Gino, pushing and pushing with my feet against the planks—his laughter was all mixed up with the sunlight and with what he was saying—to lift you up and up and up and the wall of the house fell down! Look at the apples, Ninon! And he gave me one and I knelt all naked, holding it like I once saw in a painting. Ah! Gino. The painting wasn't of Eve." — John Berger's To The Wedding (1995)
Exercise 53 will have an apple tree, and a fence somewhat like this, with shadowing waves:
http://www.jamesravilious.com/gallerypic.asp?gallery_id=5
I will put Exercise 55 here, too.
https://www.goingconcern.com/150-hour-rule-lets-keep-arguing-about-what-color-the-drapes-should-be-while-the-house-is-burning-down/amp/
I will find Exercise 53 ...
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