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{Sunday}

 
COM. COM.

mass aPAWlogies to any/all Pill Box e-correspondents I haven't gotten back to recently: individually customised form letters {lettres informe} are being typed up as we speak by my perma overtime pale and nervy CTU department. {I'm sorry, but has ANYONE in the world had the otherworldly patience to stick with the totally risible and cynical 24 mk Two? Sure sign of something rushed out to capitalise on a superior mk One: relentless TELEPHONE EXPLICATION a la "-so?, you're telling me you think the trans flex file can only have been tampered with by someone with links to that guy we interrogated in episode two but forgot all about for ten cocaine fulled script conferences, Jack?" I just caught the end of the pre penultimate episode and THEY WERE STILL DOING THIS - at such a late date! So sad.}

... and all the Returns?: ian.pen@which.net

· Just TEXT "eternal return" if you think Ian lost the plot sometime around the Colleen review-by-poem;
· Just TEXT "l'informe" if you think Ian actually eloped with Georges Bataille back in Episode 11 and [t]his blog has actually been written by a secret sub cell committee within the Palmer administration ever since.
· Just TEXT "he need" if you're a Thora Birch-a-like with a "thang" for ferrety semi-Celtic pseudo-intellectuals covered in cat hair and forever searching for misplaced cheques, e mail addresses and embarrassing 8 year old drug paraphernalia he used as spur of the moment BOOK MARKS and then forgot all about ... which is one heck of a problem in a HOUSE OF BOOKS whose filing system broke down some time back around when folks still believed in the sincere promissary notes struck by Messrs Clinton and Blair ...

... and O-H the particularities peculiarities tics tracks sightlines the psychological underwear drawer of the terminal BIBLIOPHILE ...
always slipping such mnemonic reminders betwixt between the leaves of her en-tranced reading, so that the read text comes interwoven w/ marks of her own life, read into and out of the Other text, trying to make sense of loss and lack, trying to clutch some kinda BALANCE out of her reading jones reading as hi lo sensual act, do you remember honey, your NB, how did we manage to forget to X-change & com.pair BORGES notes, Borges of all people!, a blind man inside our roomful of mirror ... blinded by our paperfall of unread tears ...

... but i’m always losing all this stuff and then weeks or months or YEARS later fiding it inside books I was quoting to you at that time ...

this afternoon's springGlean
{deferred, of course, always deferral with me isn't it?}
it was:

THOMAS DE QUINCEY
CONFESSIONS OF AN ENGLISH OPIUM EATER

Penguin p/b with a LOVELY cover {a detail – fire breathing DRAGON - from the chinoiseries at the Brighton Pavillion} a-n-d
feathers featehring the grey afternoon rain of its October detox pages:

· one cinema ticket: ICA: Derrida
· one cinema ticket: LFF: NFT 1 · DOOR 3 · Mon 13-Nov-2000 14:00 · F12: THE GLEANERS AND I
{and OH oh what a lovely film, OH what a madeleine for singular and singularly personal reasons ... never to be gleaned again;
· one parrot in a gilded cage, tu wit,
T
h
e

B
i
r
d
C
a
g
e

110 Whitfield St, Fitzrovia, WIP but don't look for it it's GONE all GONE now {the chef/proprietor had an awful car accident... and so, one more haunt this revenant cannot reconnect or penpoint ...};
· a-n-d, last but uncreased, OH howl, this so beautiful little polaroid, my sweet baby, my sweet sweet lil' baby

BeBop

my first cat,
my sweetly sour baby,
my lil' buddha lady,
my amazon in fur,
more than a year gone now,
since…………………………
i love you still sweet baby,
4ever,
rIP sweet princess
a lovely polaroid,
BeBop, eyes like alchemist's gold nuggets,
like angel's will,
a philosopher's cat,
the B’s whiskers,
sitting atop my reading table,
a bottle of mineral water, a
blue blue paper back
shortcut to Lacan, face down,
LACAN by Malcolm Bowie [Fontana Modern Masters]
{good book b/t/w, not only a
good "beginner’s guide" to the
jacques map, the map of lack,
lamplit map of our {tien} retrenchments of love,
our meconnaisances
and all
and behind her, shelves & shelves of books
I'd BURN to have her back in my lap,
b-u-t, anyway ...
this book, De Quincey, the bookmarked, opens
onto a past reading, too, to wit, tu ... {You

will think, perhaps, that I am too confidential
and communicative of my own private history.
It may be so. But my way of writing is rather
to think aloud and follow my own humours,
than much to consider who is listening to me; and,
if I stop to consider what is proper to be said to
this or that person, I shall soon come to doubt ....
whether any part at all is proper."
[TDQ, pp 97]

{WORDS TO blog BY!}

And talking of bibliophilia ... - any MARC BEHM fans out there?
Yesterday, for 99p, I picked up a book of his I didn't even know existed, a companiion text to the epochal Eye of The Beholder, called AFRAID TO DEATH. Trouble is, Eye of The Beholder being such a cornerstone in my biblio mythology, I'm almost frightened to open this "new" one in case of disappointment ...
Also for 99p, I took a flyer why not on a really interesting looking p/back called WORD MADE FLESH by one Jack O'Connell. Anyone know anything about this/him?

oh heck by Mercury, 2:17...18 am.

Time really is out of joint.


posted by Ian 7/27/2003 02:31:00 AM

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