Tuesday, March 3, 2009

A baker's dozen fragments of Gnomic wisdom and snazzy drape coats


















Are we a collection of Swiftian spiders in a grisly cellar, conjuring web from their own innards..."Isn't my web especially fine?".

We can be heroes, just for one day. But then there's to-morrow. And then there's 30 years on. And then we are laughed at for the cut of our coat. This is why so many young people just grasp the chance to be an instant cliché. Getting it over with, like.

You can say this:
"I have no other; but she doesn't understand. I will never have another, but you can't tell her that. Why does it have to be that way? Why does this openness breed contempt? What is wrong with us?"

Bathing with salts and Epsom salts is better than just ordinary bathing.

People who "win" are deluded. They seem to think life is a series of games that only they understand the rules to. Like a casino where they can stack up "Karma chips" because no one else is watching the roulette wheel. I'm not saying they won't be happy that way.

From Hermann Hesse's Narcissus and Goldmund; "God requires many things from us other than having visions."


















"Bubble and Squeak" is fried cabbage, I think. I don't know how it came by that name. Probably some obvious reason. It would become clear, I suppose, if I ever made "Bubble and Squeak". But I can always surf it up. It's for things like this that the Internet was invented.

Much fanaticism is born in the lonely darkness where dogma meets doubt. Poor bastards in agony!

"In the land of the contrary, the conformist is the counter-voice!". Or something. It's not true because there's a logical break. The fact that there are real absolutes doesn't mean that they haven't constructed false ones.

Boca Juniors have a yellow and blue strip because of the flag on a Swedish ship...the first ship to anchor at Boca. I'd be more convinced if the tourists being told this weren't "near-Swedes". That's a national inferiority complex for you!


















Males of my generation divide neatly into the sexually satisfied, and those who are quiz-show-winner-level experts on popular cultural ephemera.

Video killed the Radio Star? Well, "Bootytweak" drowned the video-geek! Someone, somewhere, I'm sure, is still making great music. But he's/she's more than ever like the unpopular warm-up act. Do I sound old when I say that it's too visual? "After all, they were saying that about Elvis back in the Fifties", like...?

With cardboard dreadnoughts on a parquet floor, my sons and I re fought Jutland with a die.


















Ain't this some snazzy tailoring?

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