Sunday, September 05, 2004
About Me
"Behind the intials was a metaphor, a delirium tremens, a trembling unfurrowing of the mind's plowshare. The saint whose water can light lamps, the clairovoyant whose lapse in recall is the breath of God, the true paranoid for whom all is organized in spheres joyful or threatening about the central pulse of himself, the dreamer whose puns probe ancient fetid shafts and tunnels of truth all act in the same special relevance to the word, or whatever it is the word is there, buffering, to protect us from." Pynchon, The Crying of Lot 49
Previous Posts
- Last blog of the day, I swear, and then I'll shut ...
- ...Constructing and is constructed by...by and by
- The mystery deepens/how to post a comment
- Full House gets cancelled and now he's hassling me...
- Commentary on the shock
- Shock T (2)
- By screams and bounds
- Peda-googe
- Geo-political Graffiti
- To Live and Smog in MA
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