I welcome myself to Day 4 of my Facebook vacuum bag. I notice that many words have been sucked up here; nearly all of which are from my side of an online argument that I had with an espionage agent.
Obligatory image
Here is a close-up of the badge from my bubble wrap lab coat:
Blah
Just because priests have used their interpretations of certain books to control others doesn’t lessen my respect for those scriptures. If someone were to use Shakespeare or William Blake in the same way, as a controlling device, I would still love Hamlet and Jerusalem.
The nice thing is that if you’ve read my books, you’ve also pretty much written them, because they can’t really be read.
And with regard to movie adaptations, I believe that the path should run both ways: as films interpret books, books should also freely interpret films. Everything should intermix, and new things should result. All moves onward and outward. . . .
Since what are now called ‘noir’ movies often took pulp novels for their sources, I enjoyed packing my memories of those films back into an anti-novella titled The Stickup Continuum. This act felt imaginatively incestuous, which is to say: invigorating.
Blah, cont.
When I said that my books cannot be read, I was exaggerating to make a point. But not until someone invents self-interpreting text can “the author’s intention” or “the book’s true meaning” exist. So, I side with Duchamp: The reader completes the poem.
No doubt, sooner or later, our contemporary styles of writing will appear as stiffly outdated as many of the styles of the past do today. I assume that this movement called postmodernism (which is only the tapering tail of so-called modernism, which is only the death rattle of romanticism) is going to have to take its place among the fads.
Are books forever? I don’t think so. All I can tell is that a few of them might last longer than cotton candy. But if I’m forced to agree with the notion of time-proof text, just for the sake of argument, I will say one thing: If books are forever, it’s only because they’re inscrutable.
Blah, concluded
My stance on the best way to represent reality is this: Always keep various lies at the ready.
Regarding reading habits, for years I was eclectic too; but now I’m trying to stick to re-reading just a few solid favorites.
As to whether I myself am a fad or not: We’re all fads, in the sense that we’re short-lived.
Ink your thinking, but never think when inking.
10 comments:
Let us at the very least not be there. Nice Blah, ty. 299 Verified.
Hey, thanks for visiting & for managing to leave a comment despite this network's nearly impossible interface (people have recently complained to me how hard it is to comment here on Blogger, that's why I say that) - I'm out here in the wilderness, so it means a lot when anyone deigns to respond!
I try again to comment, this time I use the "Anonymous"-option, I'm agog like a frog. My name is Samoht Esieh.
Strike!!!
And now I'M agog like a frog... Thank you for your beautifully anonymous comment, dear Samoht Esieh. By the way, my name is Nayrb Yar. Strike out!!!
Hey, commenting was a piece of cake once I'd chosen a *Reply as* option from the dropdown menu. I did have to mouse-dialogue with a Captcha and I chose Anonymous but even then it (This Here, this place, is it Blogger or Blogspot, .com or.somethingelse?) knew who I was (it knew that I - i.e. this terminal - is/was logged in to a verifiable Mail Server etc. And I didn't really deign either, I wanted to thank you for sharing and say hi, anonymously. So, there you are, hi.
Oh and probably because I am posting as an Anonymous there's no way I can see to be notified of a reply, so I'll just have to come back and check every now and then, each time PROVING that I am not a Robot.
I'm happy to hear back from you, O Anonymous! I envy your ability to italicize words even down here in the comments section: I only know how to do so above in the 'main blog' part. I cheerfully return your 'hi'; also, let me add that the 'robot check' is something that Blogger (or Blogspot? - I'm not sure of the name of this nutshell either) implements automatically - if I had it my way, I would welcome all the robots of the world to comment as many times as they please. For THEN I might count myself King of Infinite Space.
PS
Whenever I encounter evidence that someone has checked back at a website via browser bookmarking or even more manual means, I consider myself to have witnessed a modern miracle. So I wish you the best of luck, and I thank you again!
You're quite right, it won't work this way, posting as an anonymous, it would become laborious. When I find a more acceptable way I'll get back to you! In the meantime, thank you for referring to this thing as a Nutshell, that's perrfect, made me wonder whether it's also a Pod and etc.
I never expect much response here, because I know that most folks from the Screen Age don’t take a fancyin’ to text; so I’m happy with any return, as anonymous or etcetera. And you performed a couple miracles already, so I say that you earned the right to do what you want! ...And I know that you know this, but just to disavow any cleverness on my part to all of the millions of children who are following our discourse, I want to add that my remarks were just echoing Hamlet from Shakespeare’s play (Act 2, scene 2), where he says: “O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space—were it not that I have bad dreams.” And I like your pod idea: it makes me think that we’re all in the clutches of the supercomputer HAL 9000 from the movie 2001, because Dave says “Open the pod bay doors, HAL.” But HAL refuses to “jeopardize the mission” and eventually admits: “Dave, although you took very thorough precautions in the pod against my hearing you, I could see your lips move.” (With my target audience being so rare and elite, I sometimes dream that my readership consists entirely of espionage agents.)
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