Found that in files, shot three, four years ago, had forgotten about it. So, Never Let Me Go isn't working. It is my least favorite Ishiguro, so it was desperate stab. Ed's sheer delight in reading Pynchon's Against the Day makes me happy and envious, so after an anniversary dinner at our (until 6:30 last night) favorite Indian restaurant we walked the block to a Barnes and Noble to spend Earthgirl's gift cards. I sent my copy of Against the Day to someone (I don't remember who) after I finished my second reading early in 2012, I thought, it's my favorite Pynchon (yes, more than Gravity's Rainbow), it's three years ahead of scheduled rereading but why not pick it up and see what happens. Not on shelf. What was on shelf was the novel photoed below, I remember the buzz when it came out, it was mentioned in The Millions favorably in the past week, so what the fuck, 40 pages in all good, but this is me I'm talking about so I'm betting against me until I lose a bet.
- I did find a copy of Pynchon's Mason & Dixon in a used bookstore this past weekend. Anyone want it?
- OK, back to the arrgh-mines. Yes, I know, the arrgh-mines are a primary reason I bet against myself enjoying a novel - finish a novel? I can still do that, joyously enjoy a novel I can't.
- The problem with Privacy Moderates.
- On the above.
- Walter Pincus writes error-strewn anti-Snowden column.
- Greenwald guts him.
- America against Democracy.
- What force feeding at GITMO looks like.
- Speaking of Villager fucksticks.
- Austerity and the politics of neoliberalism.
- His generation's greatest academic fraud (I say that mostly admiringly) on global protests.
- They are an abomination.
- Production values.
- Poverty in MOCO.
- The neighborhood I grew up in. One block from my parent's house.
- Mathematical proof United sucks.
- Dead reckoning.
- Rancière, for those of you who do.
- Of Pilgrims and Anarchists: on a new book of criticism on Pynchon's Against the Day.
- Inventing literature.
- A 90s' playlist.
- Peter Greenaway on Four American Composers. I dated a woman once who raved about Greenaway's movies, took me to a few, I don't remember a thing about them, whereas I rave about Cage and Glass and especially Monk.
- Earthgirl's favorite novelist in trouble over sequel to Earthgirl's favorite novel.
- Recalling The Raincoats.
- Great dose of monotonous techno.
- Another primary reason I'm failing novels is I'm not failing poetry. I found the collected Jack Spicer when working on bookshelves, have more Spicer today, it is easily the book I've read most since it was published in 2010. More stunning each time. You know the drill.
- I couldn't make The Evens this past Monday. Fuck me. Have some Ian MacKaye product.
A BOOK OF MUSIC
Coming at an end, the lovers
Are exhausted like two swimmers.
Where Did it end? There is no telling. No love is
Like an ocean with the dizzy procession of the waves' boundaries
From which two can emerge exhausted, nor long goodbye
Like death. Coming at an end. Rather, I would say, like a length
Of coiled rope
Which does not disguise in the final twists of its lengths
But, you will say, we loved
And some parts of us loved
And the rest of us will remain
Two persons. Yes,
Poetry ends like a rope.
I wonder how long the NSA's Walter Pincus file is?ReplyDelete
Probably longer than ours, at least according to a friend who asserts that collecting everything doesn't mean analyzing everything - considering what Pincus does and who he talks to, there's no doubt more everything there than there's everything in our Stringtown, for instance. Another acquaintance says that collecting everything is far more democratic than selective gathering anyway, an angle I admit I'd thought I'd hear earlier than I did.Delete
a block walk from an indian restaurant to a barnes and noble - downtown? bethesda? clarendon? enjoy the b&n while you can - who knows how long they've got leftReplyDelete
which reminds me of "dead reckoning" - as the people you knew (those who knew you, and also those you knew of) go away, one way to think of it is that they have "passed on" to somewhere which is also your destination - emmy lou harris, wayfaring stranger
or, more existentially, there's the firesign theatre perspective about the future -
"THIS is the future. You got to LIVE it, or LIVE WITH it."
on the other hand, nostalgia "is now recognized to counteract loneliness, boredom and anxiety — making life seem more meaningful"
i was waxing nostalgic the other day, listening to a tune from my college days while reflecting on the fact that most of the guys i would toke up with to this record have been dead for 20 years
but i am not - although i will be in the not-too-distant future
Maurice Nicoll, British psychiatrist...states (in Psychological Commentaries On Gurdjieff and Ouspensky, Vol. 1, published in 1941), "The hypnotism of life is very powerful. The object of Nature is to keep man asleep and to keep him based on violence, so that he serves the purposes of Nature."
William Hutton goes on to summarize:
Nicoll explains that humanity on this planet is in a strange situation. Looking at history, man has not really developed. Yet people are prone to imagine that passing time means progress, and that any contradictions to this perception are exceptional. People usually regard war as exceptional, but most of history deals with war. Indeed, history repeats itself because groups of individuals attract again and again the same circumstances, feel the same things, say the same things, and so on. But almost nothing actually changes because people's beings have not changed. We need to realize that each of us is at a different level of being. However, a higher level of being lies immediately above each of us at this very moment, now. It does not lie in the future of time. All work on oneself deals with stopping negative emotions, not being identified with one's personal troubles, with not keeping accounts ["keeping accounts" = holding grudges - mc], and with self observation; that is, with actions that can take place NOW.
Bethesda. Himilayan Heritage on Bethesda Ave. Walked in, entirely different wait staff and, unfortunately, perhaps a new kitchen too. Shame. The things it used to do with cauliflowers.Delete
I was stunned to find that novel in the B&N. I expected a ghost town, but the fiction shelves are still stocked to the gills, as was the poetry shelves. But yes, two years max before B&N death.
Thanks for links and stuff.....
The comments on Goff's numbers yield some interesting points that Fullback has been making for years when things have gone unusually well; regression to the mean is reasonably likely.ReplyDelete
Which is, sadly, very different from "United doesn't suck."
Here's a reality check: Which dies first, B&N or 232?
Sorry about your crappy Indian food. I mean yours and hers, personally. I fucking hate Indian food. But I wish nothing but Indian food you find palatable for you and yours.
Shoulda gone to...wait for it...Foong Lin!
232 - if ownership keeps trending in current direction - isn't in dire danger of disappearing yet, though I see dire direction on the horizon. (And I know it's a perfect metaphor for my self-absorption's ability to extrapolate universal symbolism out of personal inconvenience, but the 7:00 start time pisses me of so fucking thoroughly beyond everything else Thorir Fuckstick is doing....)Delete
Foong Lin be gone. Going to be a big hole soon where another condo goes.
First of all, Greenaway: How can anyone EVER forget nude Helen Mirren in "The Cook, The Thief..." I mean, c'mon!ReplyDelete
Second, for your dining pleasure the greatest website ever:
Be sure and click "Offended" over and over. And you have to imagine the printed words to sound like either Landru or Wisdomie.
I found that Pailhead EP on cassette as a defunct thrift store in Kent, Ohio. I need to dig that out again.ReplyDelete