Tuesday, February 26, 2019

All You Will Ever Know of This Must Be Read from the Shape and Size of the Bubbles Which Rise Toward the Surface, Shimmering in a Lucent Green Dimension in Which the Course of Your Existence Is Steeped

  • I need a break from Marcel, the fucker won't shut up
  • I poetry my fiction, not fiction my poetry
  • It's my life
  • January I bought new pb edition McElroy's

  • Lordy, to hold when I desire an object to hold
  • I have failed the novel (though not his others) three times, maybe four, each time before I could read Proust
  • I read in bed then, I blame the hardback cinderblock (and is true
  •  - pictures of Bernadette
  • the first paperback scarce, hard to find, stupid expensive)  
  • then pivot, correctly blame me
  • (the paperback cinderblock fucks up my backpack's stomach)
  • It's getting late in the evening
  • I'm thirty pages past the page of my bookmark in the hardback on my bookshelf
  • give it up
  • I credit the paperback, an excellent object to hold
  • Talk talk, rest in peace Mark Hollis
  • Do you do this: open a novel somewhere in the (my habit) middle third and read a good page then start from the beginning for that deju vu tingle you read the page before? if no, try!
  • somewhere between pages 400 and 800 awaits my next rush
  • I shove Proust to the sideline to read his descendants
  • back to Marcel a week Sunday latest betcha


Tom Clark

There are a great many things in the world which you never heard of; and a great many more which nobody ever heard of; the picture of happiness which you harbor is steeped through and through in the time which the course of your existence has conferred on you; this could equally be the picture of unhappiness, and it is possible you would never know it.

Deep beneath the sea a puppet in Turkish attire, water-pipe in mouth, sits before a chessboard, which rests on a broad table upon the sea-floor. Through a system of submarine mirrors, the illusion is created that this table is transparent on all sides. In truth, a hunchbacked dwarf who is a master chess-player sits under the table, controlling the hands of the puppet with slippery strings. All you will ever know of this must be read from the shape and size of the bubbles which rise toward the surface, shimmering in a lucent green dimension in which the course of your existence is steeped.


  1. i never listened to talk talk except for 'it's my life' - thanks for the links

    with regard to iml - i always liked the animal video - i used to see it on tv


    a phrase in the second paragraph of tom clark's piece - controlling the hands of the puppet with slippery strings - reminds me of when vonnegut wrote himself into a scene of 'breakfast of champions' - he found that his control over his characters was not like being connected to them with steel rods, as he'd imagined - but more like stale rubber bands

  2. nytimes has a review of franz de waal's book on animal emotions - among the comments

    Berkeley, CA Feb. 25

    One day when I was in my late teens, I came rushing out of a supermarket door and bumped into a waiting dog. I said, "Oh, excuse me." A woman on her way into to store burst out laughing and said, "You excuse yourself to a dog??"

    The dog and I exchanged a look. He understood and I understood that there was a basic truth the woman didn't get.