In Which, At Long Last, I Ride With Mephistopheles and Faust To The East ( Dept of Archaeology )
This is the story of the jpeg found below which shows a silent film playing on my PSP. It’s also a petite tale of our age of terror and wonder.
Why was a silent film playing on my PSP? Read on.
Years ago — never mind how many — I sat in my apartment drinking Merlot while [...]
A Stripper’s Lament in Springtime ( The writing life )
“You tiny bastard,” she began, and not, it must be pointed out, in the careful whisper Overpastry surely hoped for.
“You tiny, tiny bastard, how dare you – with your mono-mind and pathetic inability to accurately recollect the events of a single day let alone years’ worth of living – how dare you talk to me [...]
Zeus comes out of retirement ( The writing life )
Jehovah.
Don’t talk to me about Jehovah.
Before that pan dimensional piker appeared on the scene, stealing my worshipers, claiming my territory, I lived an exceptionally beautiful life; really, I can’t begin to describe, not in this clumsy mortal language, the eye searingly radiant splendidness of the life which was – gone now because of that monotheistically [...]
The Knowledgium: so much to absorb, so little time ( la grandiose tournée )
Perhaps our sun is not alone after all
Radical Society asks, What Went Wrong?
[...]
After 9/11, irony was out, and so was the compulsive criticism and debilitating self-scrutiny so beloved by liberals everywhere. Everything was to have changed. Solidarity, patriotism, and action were in.
Although some rag-tag remnants suffered severe hangovers from imbibing too much Chomsky, or displayed [...]
“Seven lives for the whole of creation seemed a small, almost insignicant price…” ( Splorg )
It’s no exaggeration to say she was a Tyra Banks-esque sort of beauty. So, you can imagine that when she announced she was going away for a while (to Montreal, as I remember) and insisted on receiving a steady stream of letters – “because you write so beautifully” – (so she said, but [...]
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