Friday, February 29, 2008

Critique of Impure Reason





Dantean or Otherwise

(February 29/08)

The world is all that is the case, the world is made up of facts, the world is a cool refreshing swig on a hot uncomfortable afternoon. I am not a cowboy, all cowboys are not me, this is the case as it pertains to me in the world of facts and not-facts. I make an ass of myself, a Dantean ass. The world is a Dantean ass, the world is made up of Dantean asses. Cowboys are not asses, Dantean or otherwise. I am a Dantean ass, the world is made up of Dantean-me asses, not cowboys or fugal-horns as some believe, asses the lot of them.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Hamm and Clov Sandwich







A Blue Azure Blue Cobalt Sky

(February 28/08)

My radio-dial is set to static, a trumpeting ass so it is. Today I am one day older than yesterday, two days younger than Saturday. I am in my fifties, more or less. I am in my druthers, less than more. I picked up a copy of The Voyage That Never Ends, a compilation of Malcolm Lowry’s non-volcanic prose and poetry, a mishmash of this and that, that and this, a veritable slag of this that and the other that and this. I am smoking a cigarette, a tailor-made Davidoff Classic, filter-tipped medium-mild and quite savory. (Indeed savory indeed). I made a fugal-horn of my ass, in keeping with my protean Dantean mien.

A blue azure blue cobalt sky, an ocean of blue, blue sky. Today I am to have my yearly physical, proctored by my doctor, doctor. Blood-letting and urine-collecting, bunghole-proctoring and tongue-depressing, all the rudiments of a physiological checkup up.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Under Popocatepetl

(February 27/08)

Fifty years ago today I slid down the parturition-sluice arms flailing nose buttoned to the clove of my face. My ma said I looked like a little boxer, my nose splayed across the card of my face. I don’t remember much, much at all, memories being what they are. How I ever came this far is a mystery, one best kept that way I suppose. I do know that had I not put the kibosh on my Lowry-like drinking some 14½ years ago I’d be pushing up stinkweeds under Popocatepetl (no se puede vivir sin amar).

Chawbag, Cheesecloth and a Pig’s Ear

‘Porker’s hoopla and a ball of Scotland’s finest’ said the shamble leg man. ‘Puddle tarn and a sliver of overripe ewes’ cheese’. The harridan made a pig’s ear out of a purse, a chaw-bag out of burlap and a dress out of cheesecloth and old Scrabble tiles. She stitched together the pig’s ear with her mama’s bone-needle, tying-off the thread-end with a loop-to-loop. She used her great grandma’s tatting needle to baste together the chaw-bag, tucking the loose-ends underneath the outside flap and double-stitching the ratter to the lining.

‘When I look to the world everything is already there. Nothing is missing’ said the harridan. ‘Yes, but what is there is missing’ said the shamble leg man archly ‘its all a matter of seeing the there in what’s missing’. ‘I see’ said the harridan ‘the missing there in the there that is missing’. ‘Exactly’ said the shamble leg man. ‘I see puddle tarn and wobbly chicken legs’ said the harridan ‘and a gunboat without guns’. ‘And I’ said the shamble leg man ‘I see the missing guns and the gunboat there, over there’ he said pointing. ‘Exactly’ said the harridan. ‘I too see the missing guns, there’ she said pointing archly.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

In Uteroo

(February 26/08)

This is a painting I did of me crouching In utero, a very good likeness I’d say. One day before my coming into the world, purple-headed and full of vim and vinegar. (In utero is a Latin term literally meaning "in the uterus". It is used in biology to describe the state of an embryo or fetus). I am now Ex vivo (Latin: out of the living), Heideggerian flatcar cap stuck like a bramble in the nip of my wee head. I am very fond of purple, orange, mauve, blue, black, cobalt-blue, azure-blue-blue, aqua-blue, black-blue, blue-black, cerise, off-white, ecru, off-ecru, some browns, all greens, especially forest-green-green and little yellow dots that appear as if out of nowhere.

Monday, February 25, 2008

The Girl with No Name

(February 25/08)

I forget her name, on purpose I suppose as I have no right to remember her. I remember her coming down the street, legs shuffling, arms tight to her sides, the hum and buzz of her hearing-box ringing in my ears. The hearing-box was strapped to her chest, belted under her armpits and fastened at the back. There were two long phone-like cords, frayed and browned, coming out of the machine at the front and weaving there way into her ears.

She smiled, a lonely waifish smile, all the time directing her eyes downward at the street, her feet arching and clipping into the asphalt. I wonder what ever happened to her, the girl with no name, the girl we made fun of knowing she couldn’t hear our chuckles and hisses. What wicked boys we were, we who could hear birds chirping and the sky crackling.

Two days before my entry into the world, head butting, feet jimmying, fingers grasping at straws. Perhaps the girl with no name has a husband who adores her and children who love her. Maybe she lives in a big white house with a picket-fence and a beautiful full garden. I live at the top of a house, my ledger full of missed opportunity and poor timing, my hearing fading into a black noiselessness. My hearing-box fits into the cone of my ear, a hissing drone that only birds and crackling skies can hear.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Heideggerian Flatcar Cap

(February 24/08)

Three days before my being-thrown into the world, a Heideggerian flatcar-cap on the tiptop of my wee nascent-head. Am I a philistine, an agnostic nave-do-well? (Philosophy has been the ruin of my life, knavery!) I am Turing machine, a bead-game, a Hesse-like hiccup without a last hic. Upon awaking I put in my hearing-aide, squelching it into the grotto of my ear canal. My knave-aide, my nave-do-well-aide, my horn-of-plenty, my puff-pastry shell…my deafness meter. I have stiff bones in my ears: calcified and unwilling to waver and hum.

(February 23/08)

Our dog was an Irish Settler, a peach of a dog as dogs go. My da traded it for a double-shot shotgun and a carton of Craven A’s filter-tipped. After the trade we had no other dogs, not one. My da traded our Irish Settler to a farmer with a garish thread of chaw-spittle franking the sideboard door of his farmer’s truck. I was boy, a fine wee specimen of a boy, knee-britches and a cowboys’ hat and all my teeth. Four days and counting until my franking into the world, chaw-spittle and knee- britches and a cowboys’ hat with a string and a roisters’ whistle.

Friday, February 22, 2008

Grammar School Ciphering

(February 22/08)

Fijian spearmint chewing gum, a sweet treacle treat….mammy good. I wish I had a sou'wester with a wide-brim and a catoninetails feather, then maybe I could pull a rarebit out of a rabbit’s bottom, side up. Five days before my hurrying into the fray, two knocks of lager and an alewife’s hurrah. I recall witnessing the advent of my becoming, thrice times three divided by 27½…gobspit and gallows humor, black bile and Aristotle’s ticker and nod, nary a mum’s rest for the thigh-weary and grunt.

da
poached
flies with the
cob of his tongue
drawing blood
blacker than
quid

I remember seeing a farmer’s truck parked in front of the drive-thru spiriter’s, a garish thread of chaw-spittle franking the side door. The fat tam-hatter swung swinging the door ajar, a hornets’ bell jangling the jamb free high. I was boy, a fine wee specimen of a boy, knee-britches and a cowboys’ hat, the farmer’s wife offering me a stick of chewing gum slacker than a cows’ teats and harder than grammar-school ciphering.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Brume’s Digestive

(February 21/08)

Tweedledeeandtweedledumdedum six days and counting before my becoming into the whorl…a cats’ eye on the vicar’s boxhaul (box·haul, box·hauled, box·haul·ing, box·hauls to turn a square-rigged sailing ship onto a new tack by causing the wind to fill the back side of the foresails and steering hard around).

The oily smell of boil cream and chutney, a smeary smear applied directly to the opened spot, the hoodoo between the cultch (material {as oyster shells} laid down on oyster grounds to furnish points of attachment for the spat) of her legs. I was an inquisitive child, never taking yes no or maybe for an answer.

Stinkweed tea sugared with Brume’s Digestive and a wee tincture of allsorts and Mather. Apply the wound-cloth directly on the wound, apply pressure, repeat until the undesired affect is achieved. I was an inquiring child, never once having an opinion of my own.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Oaten-hash with 3% Milk

The shamble leg man poured scalding hot milk on top of his morning Red River cereal, seeds and oats cumbering to the top, a velum scum of raisins and busted up almonds rigging to the heave and wail. He spooned a measured portion of golden brown sugar onto the cumbered boil, the oats and busted up almonds forming a sticky paste that crisped and bunged round the lip of the bowl. ‘My goodness, goodness me’ he exclaimed, ‘what a potage mess I’ve made’. When he was a boy his mama made him boiled oats for breakfast, a ritual he carried well into adulthood. She layered the boiled oats with toast-fingers, spooning heaps of golden brown sugar onto the top then covering the oaten-hash with 3% milk.

Thomas Crapper & Co. Ltd. London

(February 20/08)

Its snowing to beat the band, what an odd incontinent turn of phrase. ‘I am little Hans…little wee Hans’. I have two arms and two legs, a nose, two green eyes and a pointy chin from which sprouts a long black hair. I am a filament of your imagination, a specter, a ghost, an almost-something without a care in the world. Its snowing to beat the band, what an odd incontinent turn of phrase… ‘I am little Hans…little wee Hans’ {(epi·glot·tis,-ˈglä-təs)thin plate of flexible cartilage in front of the glottis that folds back over and protects the glottis during swallowing}.

Many things, so I’ve come to realize, are crapulent (suffering from excessive eating or drinking; "crapulent sleep"; "a crapulous stomach"; see crapulous, given to gross intemperance in eating or drinking; "a crapulous old reprobate"). The modern-day toilet, or commode, was developed by John Crapper (
September 1836 - 27 January 1910 was a plumber who founded Thomas Crapper & Co. Ltd. in London. Despite the urban legend, Crapper did not invent the flush toilet {the myth assisted by his surname}. However, Crapper did much to increase its popularity and came up with some related inventions. He was noted for the quality of his products and received several Royal Warrants). Were it not for the formidable John Thomas Crapper, we’d all still be tossing our commode-pots out the window and into the street below.

I once met a prelate who had a predilection for reprobation and commodery. He was also noted for his formidable talent for tosspottery and poor hygiene. ‘I am little Hans…little wee Hans…little wee Hans’ {(epi·glot·tis,-ˈglä-təs)thin plate of flexible cartilage in front of the glottis that folds back over and protects the glottis during swallowing}. Seven days and counting before my upheaval into the world, feet splayed, eyes crossing in on one another, my dear mama double-binding the bind.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

The Onset of Madness

(February 19/08)

This is madness, inescapable madness! Contrary to popular opinion, when one thinks one is becoming mad one most certainly is; it’s the pre-recognition of madness that signals the onset of madness, so thinking one is going or will go mad is surely a sign of encroaching madness. If this is true, and I believe it to be so, then I am surely on my way…on my merry way to mad-hatter madness. Its not such a bad thing, this going mad, in fact one might say that it’s a boon, a big-ass Daniel Boon, this inescapable madness.

Eight days and counting until my push into the world, head like a bloodied-rag, tiny fingers clutching at metaphysical-straws. I truly believe I was born into this ontological-wasteland: Eliot be damned, I should have picked my literary-fights with more aplomb and acumen. 400mg’s of fen-green Echinacea ought to do the trick, up my sleeve and out the ripping-hole in my ass. Miasma, Yes…such a cool refreshing epiglottis {(epi·glot·tis,-ˈglä-təs)thin plate of flexible cartilage in front of the glottis that folds back over and protects the glottis during swallowing}.

I am reading several books, a series of several books. Allow me to share what I am reading, these several books, a series of several books, if you will. The Selected Stories of Robert Walser, Witold Gombrowicz’s Bacacay, Roberto Bolano’s Nazi Literature In The Americas, Elfriede Jelinek’s Greed, Martin Heidegger’s Being and Time, On Hashish by Walter Benjamin, and lastly, Louis Althusser’s The Future Lasts Forever. Perhaps I am encouraging the encroaching madness, or it I, who knows, or more precisely, who cares.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Banff, Christmas 1979

(February 18/08)

Bucuresti, Bucharest, Castlerea, Roscommon (Eircom) Schilde, Antwerpen, Taipei, T'ai-pei, Gent, Oost-Vlaanderen, Adelaide, South Australia, Tongeren, Limburg, Beloeil, Hainaut, Lisboa, Lisboa, Solihull, Solihull, Brussels, Hoofdstedelijk Gewest, Nottingham, Nottingham, Antwerp, Antwerpen, Morlanwelz, Hainaut, of all theses places, city’s, hamlets, conurbations, country’s, nations, I have been to none. However, I have been to Quebec City, New Hampshire (a hockey tournament) midway between New York City and Fish Creek (a camping trip that went awry) Lethbridge, Alberta (one semester in Fish and Wildlife Biology, which I failed miserably) Toronto (4 years undergraduate, 1 failed graduate) Fort MacMurray (well-too drunk and frightened of running out of beer-money) Banff (Christmas 1979, 6 months thereafter as a hole-digger, my first layered fruity alcoholic cocktail) and a few other places I seem to have forgotten where and for how long.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Hegel, Schopenhauer or Fichte

True, I should be abed slumbering the sleep of the intellectually incontinent, but as this is not to be, nor the case, as cases go, I sit here amid the debris of my life thinking up not-so clever things to say. As things go, having nothing to say would be a boon, a big-ass Daniel Boon I’d say, the clever bastard that I am, or so claim to be, or not, as the case may or may not be.

Philosophy has been the ruin of my life! I’d be much better equipped to take on the world’s vagaries were I not so philosophically-inclined, or declined, as the case may be. For the life of me I Kant make any sense of Hegel, Schopenhauer or Fichte. Unlike most scholarly pursuits philosophy has no dustbin, philosophers recycle everything until their tenure runs out, or time permitting, the cows come home.

Blah Blah Blah and the Modern World

(February 17/08)

February 29th or 30th I will be giving a paper on the Freudian Unconscious and Husserl’s Epoche at the upcoming student conference at the Dominican University-College cloistered away in a century-old monastery/church/rectory/ Dominican Priory in Chinatown.

I am planning to write my PhD dissertation in philosophy on the trisection of Samuel Beckett, Wilfrid Bion and phenomenology, principally Beckett’s writings from a Husserlian and psychoanalytic perspective. My MA thesis, which can be view online at the Modern World Brazen Head James Joyce site, was entitled ‘Joyce’s Ulysses, and Schopenhauerian and Freudian Reading’. I am interested not only in Beckett as a writer and dramatist, but also as a phenomenologist.
I am still up and in a state of cosseted animation, sort of like Joseph K after eating too much Special K, which of course he pilfered from his dear father before leaping off the bridge into the roiling water below, a bachelor no less.

I’ve been bandying about ideas and topics for a thesis and have come up with one I’d like to share with you. I have been stung, bitten and otherwise awakened by the phenomenological-bug, especially the whole notion of a transcendental-subjective-ego, which to me sounds suspiciously unconscious, be that Freudian or Lacanian. I can’t help but be pulled into the Freudian camp every time Husserl’s ego comes up, and the whole notion of a middle ground or stream of consciousness, or pure-experience. My reading of Husserl is one that sees this middle-ground or stream as the cheese between the realist and idealist bread, it’s where all the taste and substance is.

Now for my idea for a thesis topic, which I must say is still in swaddling cloth: A phenomenological look, or reading, if you like, of Beckett. There I said it, and with my mouth full of rocks, each one carefully pocketed and then re-pocket ad nausea; which would mean, I suppose, I’m lolling on lint and hard-candy. I think one could read Beckett in a phenomenological voice, looking at his onto-existential crisis and the manner in which his characters seem to be-in-the-world while being-outside the world (word) simultaneously.

Alemán Queso de Montaña

This is what the note said: Puerto Ordaz, Bolivar, 200.109.249.# (CANTV Servicios, Venezuela). Distrito Federal, Mexico: Alemán Queso de Montaña: Blue, Roquefort, Camembert, Swiss, cheddar, nippy, sharp, Brie, Oka, Gouda (smoked and rawboned, rind and paraffin), Granston Blue (Llangloffan), Landsker Blue, Soft Blue (St. Florence), Gorau Glas (Quirt), Caws Preseli (Pantmawr), Perl Wen (Caws Cenarth), Cheddars and Cheddar type - Aeron Valley, ACC Llandyrnog, Hufenfa De Arfon, Llangloffan, Llanboidy, Cilowen Organic, Lancych (Caws Cenarth), Merlin (goats milk), Little Acorn (sheep milk), Caws Celtica (sheep milk), Caerffili, Caws Cenarth, Caws Nantybwla, Caerfai, Teifi, Castle Dairies, Celtic Promise (Teifi), Saval (Teifi), Caws Cerwyn (Pantmawr), St. David's (Abergavenny), Dansco Mozzarella, Teifi range, Caws Cenarth, Cheez Whiz, Egyptian Sardo, Testouri, Caravane (camel milk), Bokmakiri (goat’s milk), South African Kwaito, Japanese Sakura, Palestinian Ackawi, Basket cheese, Labneh, Jameed (goat’s milk), Jibneh Arabieh, Bergkäse (German for mountain cheese), Lüneberg (cow’s milk), Tyrolean grey cheese (or Grau Käse), Brusselse Kaas, (Brussels, cow’s milk), Remedou cheese (Belgian cow's milk), Kaškaval or Kashkaval (Bulgarian and Macedonian), Olomoucké syrečky (Czech),Bavaria blu, Anthotyros (Greek), Slovak salty Liptauer, Italian Bocconcini, Pljevlja (Serbian Cyrillic: IPA [pʎɛvʎə]), Edam (Edammer), Jarlsberg, Polish Bryndza, Brazilian Requeijão, Romanian Brânză topită, Russian Tvorog, Serbian Caciocavallo, Slovakian Oscypek, Spanish Garrotxa, Swedish Blå Gotland, Swiss Sbrinz, Schabziger, Quebecois Bleu Bénédictin, Nova Scotia Dragons Breath, Le Riopelle de l'Isle, Mexican Añejo, Farmer cheese, Tillamook Cheddar, Venezuelan Queso Palmita.Blue, Roquefort, Camembert, suizo, cheddar, nippy, en punto, Brie, Oka, Gouda (ahumado y rawboned, corteza y parafina), Granston Azul (Llangloffan), Landsker Azul, Azul Soft (Santa Florencia), Gorau Glas (Quirt ), Caws Preseli (Pantmawr), Perl Wen (Caws Cenarth), y Cheddars tipo Cheddar - Aeron Valle, el CAC Llandyrnog, Hufenfa De Arfon, Llangloffan, Llanboidy, Cilowen Orgánica, Lancych (Caws Cenarth), Merlin (leche de cabra), Little Acorn (leche de oveja), Caws Celtica (leche de oveja), Caerffili, Caws Cenarth, Caws Nantybwla, Caerfai, Teifi, Castle Dairies, Celtic Promise (Teifi), Saval (Teifi), Caws Cerwyn (Pantmawr), de San David (Abergavenny ), Dansco Mozzarella, Teifi gama, Caws Cenarth, Cheez Whiz, Egipto Sardo, Testouri, Caravana (leche de camella), Bokmakiri (de leche de cabra), de Sudáfrica Kwaito, japonés Sakura, Ackawi palestino, Cesta de queso, Labneh, Jameed ( De leche de cabra), Jibneh Arabieh, Bergkäse (alemán para el queso de montaña), Lüneberg (la leche de vaca), tirolesa gris queso (o Grau Käse), Brusselse Kaas, (Bruselas, la leche de vaca), Remedou queso (belga La leche de vaca), Kaškaval o Kashkaval (búlgaros y macedonios), Olomoucké syrečky (Checa), Baviera blu, Anthotyros (griego), salados Liptauer eslovaco, italiano Bocconcini, Pljevlja (serbio cirílico: IPA ʎɛ ʎə v]), Edam (Edammer), Jarlsberg, polaco Bryndza, Requeijão brasileño, rumano Brânză topită, Tvorog ruso, serbio Caciocavallo, Oscypek eslovaco, español Garrotxa, Blå Gotland Suecia, Suiza Sbrinz, Schabziger, Quebecois Bleu Bénédictin, Nueva Escocia Dragons Breath, Le Riopelle de l'Isle, México Añejo, Farmer queso, Tillamook Cheddar, Queso Palmita venezolano. Blue, Roquefort, Camembert, suizo, cheddar, nippy, en punto, Brie, Oka, Gouda (ahumado y rawboned, corteza y parafina), Granston Azul (Llangloffan), Landsker Azul, Azul Soft (Santa Florencia), Gorau Glas (Quirt ), Caws Preseli (Pantmawr), Perl Wen (Caws Cenarth), y Cheddars tipo Cheddar - Aeron Valle, el CAC Llandyrnog, Hufenfa De Arfon, Llangloffan, Llanboidy, Cilowen Orgánica, Lancych (Caws Cenarth), Merlin (leche de cabra), Little Acorn (leche de oveja), Caws Celtica (leche de oveja), Caerffili, Caws Cenarth, Caws Nantybwla, Caerfai, Teifi, Castle Dairies, Celtic Promise (Teifi), Saval (Teifi), Caws Cerwyn (Pantmawr), de San David (Abergavenny ), Dansco Mozzarella, Teifi gama, Caws Cenarth, Cheez Whiz, Egipto Sardo, Testouri, Caravana (leche de camella), Bokmakiri (de leche de cabra), de Sudáfrica Kwaito, japonés Sakura, Ackawi palestino, Cesta de queso, Labneh, Jameed ( De leche de cabra), Jibneh Arabieh, Bergkäse (alemán para el queso de montaña), Lüneberg (la leche de vaca), tirolesa gris queso (o Grau Käse), Brusselse Kaas, (Bruselas, la leche de vaca), Remedou queso (belga La leche de vaca), Kaškaval o Kashkaval (búlgaros y macedonios), Olomoucké syrečky (Checa), Baviera blu, Anthotyros (griego), salados Liptauer eslovaco, italiano Bocconcini, Pljevlja (serbio cirílico: IPA [p ʎɛ ʎə v]), Edam (Edammer), Jarlsberg, polaco Bryndza, Requeijão brasileño, rumano Brânză topită, Tvorog ruso, serbio Caciocavallo, Oscypek eslovaco, español Garrotxa, Blå Gotland Suecia, Suiza Sbrinz, Schabziger, Quebecois Bleu Bénédictin, Nueva Escocia Dragons Breath, Le Riopelle de l'Isle, México Añejo, Farmer queso, Tillamook Cheddar, Queso Palmita venezolano. Blue, Roquefort, Camembert, suizo, cheddar, nippy, en punto, Brie, Oka, Gouda (ahumado y rawboned, corteza y parafina), Granston Azul (Llangloffan), Landsker Azul, Azul Soft (Santa Florencia), Gorau Glas (Quirt ), Caws Preseli (Pantmawr), Perl Wen (Caws Cenarth), y Cheddars tipo Cheddar - Aeron Valle, el CAC Llandyrnog, Hufenfa De Arfon, Llangloffan, Llanboidy, Cilowen Orgánica, Lancych (Caws Cenarth), Merlin (leche de cabra) , Little Acorn (leche de oveja), Caws Celtica (leche de oveja), Caerffili, Caws Cenarth, Caws Nantybwla, Caerfai, Teifi, Castle Dairies, Celtic Promise (Teifi), Saval (Teifi), Caws Cerwyn (Pantmawr), de San David (Abergavenny), Dansco Mozzarella, Teifi gama, Caws Cenarth, Cheez Whiz, Egipto Sardo, Testouri, Caravana (leche de camella), Bokmakiri (de leche de cabra), de Sudáfrica Kwaito, japonés Sakura, Ackawi palestino, Cesta de Queso, Labneh, Jameed (De leche de cabra), Jibneh Arabieh, Bergkäse (alemán para el queso de montaña), Lüneberg (la leche de vaca), tirolesa gris queso (o Grau Käse), Brusselse Kaas, (Bruselas, la leche De vaca), Remedou queso (belga La leche de vaca), Kaškaval o Kashkaval (búlgaros y macedonios), Olomoucké syrečky (Checa), Baviera blu, Anthotyros (griego), salados Liptauer eslovaco, italiano, Bocconcini, Pljevlja (serbio cirílico:IPA [P ʎɛ ʎə v]), Edam (Edammer), Jarlsberg, polaco Bryndza, Requeijão brasileño, rumano Brânză topită, Tvorog ruso, serbio Caciocavallo, Oscypek eslovaco, español Garrotxa, Blå Gotland Suecia, Suiza Sbrinz, Schabziger, Quebecois Bleu Bénédictin, Nueva Escocia Dragons Breath, Le Riopelle de l'Isle, México Añejo, Farmer queso, Tillamook Cheddar, Queso Palmita venezolano. The friars made mozzarella and old cheddar, (white) staying clear of complex cheeses and curds. Los frailes hizo mozzarella y cheddar viejo, (blanco) permanecen, cheddar viejo, (blanco) permanecen claro complejo de quesos y cuajada. Anyhow, the oxcart could only accommodate light cheeses and whey’s, anything heavier or more complex would have busted the axel, caroming the oxcart into a frenzied cartwheel. De todos modos, la oxcart sólo podía acomodar luz del suero de leche y quesos, algo más pesado o más complejo habría busted el axel, caroming la oxcart en una frenética cartwheel. De todos modos, la oxcart sólo podía acomodar luz del suero de leche y quesos, algo más pesado o más complejo habría busted el axel, caroming la oxcart en una frenética cartwheel. De todos modos, la oxcart sólo podía acomodar luz del suero de leche y quesos, algo más pesado o más complejo habría busted el axel, caroming la oxcart en una frenética cartwheel.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Legi Zachodniopomorskie 110.54# OJSC

Saint-Michel-sur-Orge sur Bretagne Andalucia Arcos Telefonica de Espana Legi Zachodniopomorskie De La Frontera Telefonica de Espana 86.63.136# Saint Petersburg City 89.110.54# OJSC North-West Telecom read the return address on the envelope. As the man in the hat didn’t know anyone from that address, though De La Frontera Telefonica de Espana 86.63.136# did sound familiar, he tossed the envelope, unopened, into the dustbin and continued on his way, his hat tucked up under his arm, the midday sun coring a hole in the top of his head like an apple-bore.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Shoehorn Speculum

(February 15/08)

Twelve days until my push into the world, that first grunt, head pointed, an inversion of skin and tallow. Thankfully the pediatrician didn’t have to use the shoehorn-speculum, forcing it between my dear mother’s ovum-ketch and the base of my skull, barely missing the kip of my Flatbush fontanel. I wonder, I do, whether a colporteur might have been within peddling reach, a tome-case of first edition King James’ and a packet of Wriggle’s Pepomint gum. Shoehorn-speculum and the smell of wintergreen and janitorial cleanup. Stranger things have happened, I suppose, like a colporteur with a hacksaw singing a wren’s-aria, feet firmly implanted in the checkerboard-checkers, black and white, white and black, black, white, white black. My birth-birthing, doula (a woman who is experienced in childbirth and who provides physical, emotional, and informational assistance and support to a mother before, during, or after childbirth) doodling a fair to middling day, as fair to middling days go, one might suppose. Simple-simpering foolscap, not a moments rest for the grunt-weary and incontinent, no such luck at all.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Miltonduff and Glenburgie

(February 14/08)

Had I known beforehand, before it got out of hand, I’d have never got involved in colportage (Colportage is the distribution of
religious publications, books, tracts, etc., by carriers called colporteurs. The term is an alteration of French comporter, "to peddle" as a portmanteau or pun with the word col (Latin collum, "neck"), with the resulting meaning "to carry on one's neck". Porter, is from Latin portare, "to carry."The America Bible Society and the American Tract Society were among the largest organizations involved in colportage in the United States. The term may also be seen referring to any kind of book peddling, not only the religious ones) even unwittingly. However I am quite fond of the lilting jazz styling’s of the late Cole Porter. In the past Valentine’s day was the day I drank a tankard’s-worth of Ballantine's Finest Blended Scotch Whisky (First produced in 1827 by 18 year old George Ballantine in Cowgate, Edinburgh. Ballantine's Finest Blended Scotch Whisky contains no less than 57 malts which include Allied owned Miltonduff and Glenburgie.The Dumbarton plant is locally renowned for its 'Scotchwatch' burglar alarm, consisting of 100 odd noisy geese!). George Ballantine, to the best of my knowledge, was never a colporteur. Hallowell and Smith, however, were notorious colporteurs, having been known to peddle the King James version of the Standard Bible at sporting events and in children’s playgrounds. Both men, colporteurs, were also notorious for drinking Ballantine's Finest Blended Scotch Whisky by the tankard while peddling and hawking.

The Croup and My Mother’s Chatelaine

I am repulsed by things I find repulsive, such as desiccated fruits, legumes, too, for that matter, dogs smaller than a cat, horsehair and too much white in my eggs. I dislike anything that comes in cellophane or has crimping round the edges, reused Popsicle sticks and too little yellow in my eggs. I dropped LSD once, more precisely someone dropped it on me. I have never eaten spirit-gum, betel-nuts or anything ensconced in puff-pastry, the kind one finds in your better delicatessens and biome stores. I have, however, read far too much Nietzsche, Popular Mechanics (old dog-eared back-issues and brand spanking new ones) and the Scout’s Manual I was given upon being beaten-in to the troop. I have been known to read, and often reread, folios (a book or manuscript in the largest size usual for books, traditionally created by folding a single sheet of standard-sized printing paper once, giving two leaves or four pages, a standard-sized sheet of printing paper folded once to give two leaves or four pages, a paper or parchment page that is numbered on the front but not the back) periodicals, journals, weekly’s, monthly’s, quarterly’s and glossy magazines, and once, when I was very ill with the croup, my dear mother’s Chatelaine.

Damien Hirst












Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Nietzsche - 'Last Days' Footage - 1899

Kreativität ist die Zerstörung

Diecinueve días antes de mi recepción en este mundo unos cincuenta años atrás. Scabby cone-headed me, baby’s breath and teat-tugging gums. Scabby cono encabezados por mí, la respiración del bebé y el pezón-tugging encías. Montreal, the city of circles, Dante’s concentric upward spiral. Montreal, la ciudad de círculos concéntricos del Dante espiral ascendente. Me dear mum pushed me out through her ovum-hatch, all eyes on the tick-tock of the surgeries’ clock. Mí querida mamá me empujó a través de su óvulo-escotilla, todos los ojos en el tick-tock de las cirugías' reloj. ‘Trug Raffungen Sie zappelnd und zu befestigen, con le sue Rock-pins curette’ she hollered ‘heave-ho and out he goes, all hinds on board, weigh the port anchor weigh’. 'Trug Raffungen Sie zappelnd und zu befestigen, con le demandar Rock-pins cureta "ella hollered" heave-ho y se dirige a cabo, a bordo de todos los hinds, sopesar el puerto ancla pesa ". I grew up and out, sideways and off-kilter, a pilsner’s worth of foolhardiness. Crecí y fuera, de lado y fuera de kilter, una pilsner del valor de foolhardiness. As I sit here now, writing this dismissive missive, I can see the anchor aweigh, 2-shits to the wind, a bollard’s worth of mercantile and chow mien. Como me siento ahora aquí, escribiendo este rechazo misiva, puedo ver el ancla aweigh, 2-mierdas al viento, un bollard del valor de chow mien y mercantil. The much-too-green plant anchored above my bed is dieing a cloister’s death, not nearly enough water, too little teat-tugging and baby’s breath. La tan demasiado verde-planta anclada encima de mi cama está muriendo claustro de la muerte, no basta en el agua, muy poco-tugging pezón y la respiración del bebé.

The Mercury Fish Co. [English]

(February 13/08)

The Mercury Fish Co. dissolved in 1948, ten years before my reception into the whirled. My father’s father, having given in to the ravages of diabetes and one-leggedness, predeceased my birth by 8 years ([English] would change the side-boards of the fish crates, haddock for cod, bluefin for red snapper, raising the profit-margin accordingly). Having said more that I said I would said, I have said more than enough.

Place the mustard-peach-cobbler poultice directly onto the raised area, apply even pressure using the back of a soup-spoon and repeat until the desired effected is achieved; if this does not salve the boil, change the sideboard from cod to red snapper; this should do the job ([English] Could I have a word with you in my office, please?...in Christian theology, the divine rational principle as epitomized by Jesus Christ, in Christianity, the Bible or Scriptures, considered as revealing divine truth; plural, words…the text or lyrics of a song, musical, or opera). 14 days and counting before my jump into the fray.

(February 12/08)

The last thing I’ll say before I have nothing left to say is that I have nothing left to say, not a word (a meaningful sound or combination of sounds that is a unit of language or its representation in a text, a brief comment, announcement, discussion, or conversation: Could I have a word with you in my office, please?...in Christian theology, the divine rational principle as epitomized by Jesus Christ, in Christianity, the Bible or Scriptures, considered as revealing divine truth; plural, words…the text or lyrics of a song, musical, or opera). [English] would change the side-boards of the fish crates, haddock for cod, bluefin for red snapper, raising the profit-margin accordingly.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Carvi, Citrouille, Fenouil et Aneth

L'aumône homme a trouvé une demi-bagel mangé dans la poubelle derrière le Waymart bon. Van Pelt's bagel de personnes ont été, chaque membre de la famille ayant conçu leur propre manière de préparer et de manger un bagel. Eloise couper le sien latéralement à un léger angle, préférant ses moitiés déséquilibré et off-centre. Croyais Elle blé entier Bagels avec des semences: cumin, la citrouille, aneth, fenouil, de pavot et de muesli. Pour réduire de moitié le bagel elle a ajouté une tranche de fromage et de Muenster coin de pickles, parfois de finition avec une tranche de tomate, au sommet de laquelle elle a passé une précaution dollop de crème. Il a préféré son père bagel avec du fromage à la crème, huile d'olive extra vierge et un cornichon. (Son père a découvert un petit out-of-the-way détachées qui transportait cornichons sucrés, et j'ai acheté un pot de chaque semaine, sans faute). Sa mère a en horreur bagels, uni ou semé, et ont refusé de s'asseoir à la table quand on est mangé.

Pacific Shipper, 11 February 2008

(February 12/08)

My father told me how the stevedores (ste·ve·dore, to work as a dockworker, loading and unloading ships, or unload a particular ship, see Rotterdam, stevedores fruit-handling agreement, Pacific Shipper, 11 February 2008, 165 words [English]) would change the side-boards of the fish crates, haddock for cod, bluefin for red snapper, raising the profit-margin accordingly. As I have never eaten a fish I liked or enjoyed (even tinned tuna) the issue seems moot, for me at least.

(February 11/08-Supplementary)

I have never eaten a fish I liked or enjoyed. My father’s father managed the Mercury Fish Co. in Montreal with one full leg and one three-quarter leg, the three-quarter leg having been amputated to stave off a nasty rasher of gangrene.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Slaughterhouse 4 Kurt Vɒnəgət Jr.

(February 11/08)

Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. (vɒnəgət) 1922-2007, smoked non-filter tipped Pall malls. I tried them once, Pall Malls without filter-tips, and found them spiffy, yet not to my liking. I prefer Blue Gauloises, filer-tipped, by the carton, sometimes by the package. Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. had many, many books published; I have had none, not one, yes, none. I was born, hurried into this world, 36 years after Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. was, and with far less hair, or so I was informed, by whom is unimportant, but told just the same. I started a play many, many years ago called Eating Dylan Thomas Liver, but never saw fit to complete it, finding the whole process, the writing, that is, rather tricky, as there are too few good metaphors for cirrhosis and whiskeyrag. Here’s what I wrote instead, instead of writing more, much more, about how one would go about eating Dylan Thomas’ liver, were one so inclined to do so, yes:

Apaleena herd cows loweng an a ren warballeng an she remembarred incerteng plums inta the fowlds uv har vagina, plumjewce trecalled down har th’eyes a sweetreecally powl undarneeth her boughtum, an tha sharp smel uv cowdung, her i’s moyst frum swet…oneuvus has sumtheng ta hyde, she thoughwt, a secrat bestkept secrat…a bryte summar sun, berds hummeng, cows loweng, sweetreekally fowlds uv wharm skin, oneuvus has sumtheng ta hyde, she thoughwt, a secrat bestleft unsayd. Asfar as she new Humbert hadent spowken a werd ta ane one in y’ears, an wen he did, it wuz in a paynfullee low voyce, a voyce hevee with sadniss an haytred…an angree voyce that mayde tha haires onher theyes standonend, no sweetreecall or sweetsweetarplumjewce, just a hardlow voyce heevee with angar an leyef’s payne.

When I was 11, fresh from the cradle, I was a slow baby, and after a hearty breakfast of Red River Cereal, toast, cut into little fingers, brown sugar and 2% milk, I had an idea for a book I called Slaughterhouse 4, but as I hadn’t learned how to type yet, or read very good, I gave up on the idea and played soccer instead.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Lʊdvɪg væn Beɪtoʊvən

Yes I said yes, no? Yes of course Yes, yes, of course, no? Yes, yes, no of course yes, no? My goodness me Yes, yes, no yes of course no, yes? Blah de blah de blah de blah. Make sure to apply the poultice above sea-level, a smidgen above, see, level, see, yes? Should you feel the need, the desire, the need to desire, yes, say yes, of course, but never below sea-level, not even a smidgen, no, yes? A smidgen on a unicycle is a sight to see, yes, a sight for unsightly eyes, yes? Yes of course yes, no? Apply a warm unicycle to the raised area, but never, no never above the level where water turns into slug, yes? Pierce the calf’s scrotum with a knitting needle, yes, all the while singing Idiot on the Grass at the tip-top of your lungs, yes. A smidgen above the level at which a singing voice becomes a loud ear-splitting annoyance, a smidgen higher, yes? Put an earwig in your ear, yes? Put two earwigs in both ears, yes? Yes two, yes? (The word "poultice" comes from the Latin puls, pultes, meaning "porridge." Historically poultices were made from bread or other cereals, or lead, which is thought to have resulted in the fatal advancement of existing lead poisoning in Beethoven). (Ludwig van Beethoven (English IPA: /lʊdvɪg væn beɪtoʊvən/;German IPA: [lutvɪç fan bethofn], (December 16, 1770 [1]March 26, 1827) was a German composer and virtuoso pianist. He was an important figure in the transitional period between the Classical and Romantic eras in Western classical music, and remains one of the most famous and influential composers of all time) yes, yes of course yes, no?

Karl Gʊstaf Jʊŋ

(February 10/08)

I can go on, I must not go on…and on and on. A schizophrenic on a unicycle is far more intriguing than a fat lady on a scooter. Haiku to you too; bless you. It’s a piss-poor excuse, as far as excuses go. A simpering fool on a barroom stool is far more intriguing than a scrimping mule on a busted vestibule. The store, yes, that one over there, there, is open 24-seven. Yes, they have a wide selection of paraffin cigars, fruity juice-sacs and penny-candy, yes. The fat lady, whose husband bets on the ponies, will be happy to serve you, yes. I can’t go blonde, I will go blonde, yes. Yes I said yes, yes…a fat lady on a schizophrenics unicycle is a sad sight indeed, yes.

It’s a little know fact that Carl Gustav Jung (
IPA: [karl gʊstaf jʊŋ]) (July 26, 1875, KesswilJune 6, 1961, Küsnacht) was a Swiss psychiatrist, influential thinker, and founder of analytical psychology) liked to listen to Pink Floyd. Contrary to unpopular opinion, Freud did not. Blah de blah de blah de blah. If my name was/were Leon Babcock the 3rd I, too, would listen to Carl Gustav Jung listening to the Floyd. Carl Gustav Floyd on a tricycle is a sight for sad eyes, yes.

Empty the bladder when it reaches a level above, but not exceeding, 27½ liters. Apply a warm poultice to the raised area, making sure, making certainly sure, the exposed raised area has been well laved beforehand; repeat until fatigue sets in, then a wee smidgen more (
IPA: [karl gʊstaf jʊŋ]) (July 26, 1875, KesswilJune 6, 1961, Küsnacht) was a Swiss psychiatrist, influential thinker, and founder of analytical psychology).

Saturday, February 09, 2008

Craven A’s and Popular Mechanics

(February 9/08)

Had I the choice, which of course I don’t, I’d change my name to Leon Babcock the 3rd. Eighteen days before the advent of my hatching, slip-sliding down the parturition-sluice like an otter, gummy-gums awaiting the first tugging. As Leon Babcock the 3rd I’d surely have a better chance at flight-footing and mad-cattery.

When I was a wee-one, a wee-waif of a wee-one, we had a dog named Edirne (a city in
Thrace, the westernmost part of Turkey, close to the borders with Greece and Bulgaria. It is the capital of Edirne Province (Turkish Thrace) and its estimated population in 2002 was 128,400, up from 119,298 in 2000) that ran in non-concentric circles like a madwoman. When my father decided we as a family couldn’t take care of her any longer, he swapped her for a rusty shotgun and a carton of Craven A’s. I pilfered a package or two, stowing them underneath my shirt along with a dog-eared copy of Popular Mechanics I’d pilfered the day before from the Nickel-O-Dime on the corner beside the Waymart across from the aqueduct that never held any water.

If I were Leon Babcock the 3rd I’d steal and pilfer whatever I wanted, never once fearing a swat on the bottom or a cuff to the ear. I’d be a fearless wee-waif of a wee-one, a Dickensonian bad-boy, a Fagan freeloader, a bombastic Leon Babcock, Leon Babcock the turd. I’d stop using italics for a day or two, buy my own brand-spanking new copy of Popular Mechanics, and swap the family dog back for half a carton of Craven A’s and a punch in the nose, the smarmy farmer’s nose.

Friday, February 08, 2008

Wet Krankenschwestern und Spielzeug Pferde

Die beinlose Mann non ritt Fahrrad oder ein passende Socken trug. Egli non aveva alcuna cifra o scarpe pattini, sci alpino, non uno o toque alpino. Er hatte keine Schuhe oder Bild-Skates, keine o una alpin toque di sci alpino. He had wooly mittens and a wooly scarf, both knit by his great-grandmamma with bone knitting-needles and mutton wool. Er hatte wolligen Handschuhe und ein Schal wolligen, beide stricken von seinem Ur-grandmamma Stricken mit Knochen-Nadeln und Wolle Hammel . Aveva wooly mezzoguanti e una sciarpa wooly, sia con la sua maglia grande grandmamma con osso-maglieria-aghi e lana di pecora. Er hatte wolligen Handschuhe e un Schal wolligen, entrambe colpite von suo Ur-grandmamma Stricken mit Knochen-und Wolle Nadeln Hammel. He had a pushcart that he paddled with stove-poles, caroming and veering his way round town with the greatest of ease. Er hatte eine Schiebkarre, dass er paddelte mit Herd-polig, caroming und drehend seinem Weg rund um die Stadt mit der größten Leichtigkeit. He had a wet nurse with an immense bosom, perfectly round areolas and an unlimited supply of milk. Er hatte einen nassen Krankenschwester mit einem immensen Busen, perfekt runde areolas und eine unbegrenzte Versorgung mit Milch. He went about shoeless, shunting his pushcart round town in lovingly knit wooly mittens and a wooly scarf. Er ging barfuß, Rangieren seine Schiebkarre Runde in der Stadt liebevoll stricken wolligen Handschuhe und einen wolligen Schal . Aveva un pushcart che egli paddled con stufa-poli, caroming divagare e il suo modo rotondo città con il più grande di facilità. Er hatte una Schiebkarre, dass er paddelte mit Herd-polig, caroming suo drehend Weg und rund um die Stadt mit der größten Leichtigkeit.
(February 8/08)

Nineteen days before my reception into this world some fifty years ago. Scabby cone-headed me, baby’s breath and teat-tugging gums. Montreal, the city of circles, Dante’s concentric upward spiral. Me dear mum pushed me out through her ovum-hatch, all eyes on the tick-tock of the surgeries’ clock. ‘Trug Raffungen Sie zappelnd und zu befestigen, con le sue Rock-pins curette’ she hollered ‘heave-ho and out he goes, all hinds on board, weigh the port anchor weigh’. I grew up and out, sideways and off-kilter, a pilsner’s worth of foolhardiness. As I sit here now, writing this dismissive missive, I can see the anchor aweigh, 2-shits to the wind, a bollard’s worth of mercantile and chow mien. The much-too-green plant anchored above my bed is dieing a cloister’s death, not nearly enough water, too little teat-tugging and baby’s breath.

Kreativität ist die Zerstörung

Sitzung
Zu lange
In der gleichen
Positi das knie nach
außen dann nach innen
die nie zu spät
Zu meistern
Callisth -
enics

Thursday, February 07, 2008

Picture Without Words















Being-In-The-World, Being-Outside-The-World

"A schizophrenic out for a walk is a better model than a neurotic lying on the analyst's couch. A breath of fresh air, a relationship with the outside world."
-Deleuze & Guattari, Anti-Oedipus

Hamm: Go and get two bicycle-wheels.
Clov: There are no more bicycle-wheels.
Hamm: What have you done with your bicycle?
Clov: I never had a bicycle.
Hamm: The thing is impossible.
-Samuel Beckett, Endgame

How is it that Beckett’s characters seem to both be in-the-world and outside-the-world at the same time? Like the schizophrenic out for a leisurely bicycle ride, or a the neurotic recumbent on Freud’s couch reclaiming the Oedipal-I, Beckett’s characters live along a line between the inside and the outside, astride the grave.

(They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more)
-Waiting For Godot

Perhaps Beckett’s characters, all to a one, live along the line of least/most résistance, astride the epoche, awaiting the punter’s cry, Charon, dearest Charon we beckon thee.

Perhaps a conjuration can be found in Husserl’s phenomenological epoché. If my understanding of the world is bound (constrained, bracketted) by my reflection on the world of experiences, my experience of the world, the question arises as to the objectification of the world, my experience of the world. Casting aside the argument for solipsism, a self-reflective experience of the world is a subjective ‘I’ experience of the world. True, the ‘I’ is in the world, engaging in the world of ‘things’, but self-reflectively so. If the ‘I’ experience of the world is a self-reflective experience of the world, a ‘being-in-the-world’ at or within the self-reflective ‘I’, then the constancy of the world, the ‘I’-reflective world, is dependant on my ‘being-in-the-world as ‘I’. Time, therefore, is that/this ‘moment-in-the-word’, an ‘I’ self-reflection of the world. This is where, at which point, Husserl’s phenomenological epoché comes into play.

I am a Linguaphone

(February 6/08)

Its not called a Jews’ carp, you moron…its called a Jews’ harp, get it…a Jews’ harp, not a Jews’ carp, ninny. By now, goodness me, by now you must know that I’m a silly ninny…yes, me, silly ninny me. Jews’ carp, what a silly ninny mad thing to think, to say, to think and say. Ninny: nin·ny·ish, ninnee (adjective), an offensive term that deliberately insults somebody's intelligence, common sense, or effectiveness (plural nin·nies).

Lamellophone, Linguaphone: refers to a musical instrument in which sound is produced by a vibrating member fixed at only one end. The Jew's harp, jaw harp, or mouth harp is thought to be one of the oldest
musical instruments in the world[attribution needed]; a musician apparently playing it can be seen in a Chinese drawing from the 3rd century BC. It is also sometimes called a Jew's trump or juice harp, among other names, and has no particular connection with Judaism. I warned you, one and all, never give mirth to mire or melody…dum-de-dum-de-doo!

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Far Far Away Far

Keighley Oost-Vlaanderen, not far from Beveren West Yorkshire. Chahar Mahall va Bakhtiari, no, that’s far too far away, far away in the other direction, far, far away far. I dare say they don’t make German Mountain Goats’ Cheese that far away, the temperature would certainly disallow it, the temperature being as intemperate as it is that far away far. Do they make Tariku Milner’s Cheese that far away? I wonder. Albert Scrim, who knew Dejesus, said they make all sorts of cheese that far, far away, some so sharp it's beyond belief, should that be possible, especially that far, far away. They bath the cheese in cold, cold water, so cold that it hurts to even think of water that cold, cold. The curds, so Albert, Albert Scrim says, are so icy-cold they split like ice-cubes in your mouth, that icy-cold cold, so he says. I can well imagine something, cheese, even, being cold, but certainly not that cold, it seems altogether impossible. But then again Albert Scrim is a master at these things, a cheese expert, so he claims.

Queso Alemán de Montaña

Blue, Roquefort, Camembert, Swiss, cheddar, nippy, sharp, Brie, Oka, Gouda (smoked and rawboned, rind and paraffin), Granston Blue (Llangloffan), Landsker Blue, Soft Blue (St. Florence), Gorau Glas (Quirt), Caws Preseli (Pantmawr), Perl Wen (Caws Cenarth), Cheddars and Cheddar type - Aeron Valley, ACC Llandyrnog, Hufenfa De Arfon, Llangloffan, Llanboidy, Cilowen Organic, Lancych (Caws Cenarth), Merlin (goats milk), Little Acorn (sheep milk), Caws Celtica (sheep milk), Caerffili, Caws Cenarth, Caws Nantybwla, Caerfai, Teifi, Castle Dairies, Celtic Promise (Teifi), Saval (Teifi), Caws Cerwyn (Pantmawr), St. David's (Abergavenny), Dansco Mozzarella, Teifi range, Caws Cenarth, Cheez Whiz, Egyptian Sardo, Testouri, Caravane (camel milk), Bokmakiri (goat’s milk), South African Kwaito, Japanese Sakura, Palestinian Ackawi, Basket cheese, Labneh, Jameed (goat’s milk), Jibneh Arabieh, Bergkäse (German for mountain cheese), Lüneberg (cow’s milk), Tyrolean grey cheese (or Grau Käse), Brusselse Kaas, (Brussels, cow’s milk), Remedou cheese (Belgian cow's milk), Kaškaval or Kashkaval (Bulgarian and Macedonian), Olomoucké syrečky (Czech),Bavaria blu, Anthotyros (Greek), Slovak salty Liptauer, Italian Bocconcini, Pljevlja (Serbian Cyrillic: IPA [pʎɛvʎə]), Edam (Edammer), Jarlsberg, Polish Bryndza, Brazilian Requeijão, Romanian Brânză topită, Russian Tvorog, Serbian Caciocavallo, Slovakian Oscypek, Spanish Garrotxa, Swedish Blå Gotland, Swiss Sbrinz, Schabziger, Quebecois Bleu Bénédictin, Nova Scotia Dragons Breath, Le Riopelle de l'Isle, Mexican Añejo, Farmer cheese, Tillamook Cheddar, Venezuelan Queso Palmita. Blue, Roquefort, Camembert, suizo, cheddar, nippy, en punto, Brie, Oka, Gouda (ahumado y rawboned, corteza y parafina), Granston Azul (Llangloffan), Landsker Azul, Azul Soft (Santa Florencia), Gorau Glas (Quirt ), Caws Preseli (Pantmawr), Perl Wen (Caws Cenarth), y Cheddars tipo Cheddar - Aeron Valle, el CAC Llandyrnog, Hufenfa De Arfon, Llangloffan, Llanboidy, Cilowen Orgánica, Lancych (Caws Cenarth), Merlin (leche de cabra), Little Acorn (leche de oveja), Caws Celtica (leche de oveja), Caerffili, Caws Cenarth, Caws Nantybwla, Caerfai, Teifi, Castle Dairies, Celtic Promise (Teifi), Saval (Teifi), Caws Cerwyn (Pantmawr), de San David (Abergavenny ), Dansco Mozzarella, Teifi gama, Caws Cenarth, Cheez Whiz, Egipto Sardo, Testouri, Caravana (leche de camella), Bokmakiri (de leche de cabra), de Sudáfrica Kwaito, japonés Sakura, Ackawi palestino, Cesta de queso, Labneh, Jameed ( De leche de cabra), Jibneh Arabieh, Bergkäse (alemán para el queso de montaña), Lüneberg (la leche de vaca), tirolesa gris queso (o Grau Käse), Brusselse Kaas, (Bruselas, la leche de vaca), Remedou queso (belga La leche de vaca), Kaškaval o Kashkaval (búlgaros y macedonios), Olomoucké syrečky (Checa), Baviera blu, Anthotyros (griego), salados Liptauer eslovaco, italiano Bocconcini, Pljevlja (serbio cirílico: IPA [p ʎɛ ʎə v]), Edam (Edammer), Jarlsberg, polaco Bryndza, Requeijão brasileño, rumano Brânză topită, Tvorog ruso, serbio Caciocavallo, Oscypek eslovaco, español Garrotxa, Blå Gotland Suecia, Suiza Sbrinz, Schabziger, Quebecois Bleu Bénédictin, Nueva Escocia Dragons Breath, Le Riopelle de l'Isle, México Añejo, Farmer queso, Tillamook Cheddar, Queso Palmita venezolano. The friars made mozzarella and old cheddar, (white) staying clear of complex cheeses and curds. Los frailes hizo mozzarella y cheddar viejo, (blanco) permanecen claro complejo de quesos y cuajada. Anyhow, the oxcart could only accommodate light cheeses and whey’s, anything heavier or more complex would have busted the axel, caroming the oxcart into a frenzied cartwheel. De todos modos, la oxcart sólo podía acomodar luz del suero de leche y quesos, algo más pesado o más complejo habría busted el axel, caroming la oxcart en una frenética cartwheel.

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Venus at the Forge of Vulcan




Bisque und Zinn-Folie

Rind-und Herz Chowder Consommé, Gemüseeibisch, bisque und Bouillabaisse, seine Mutter gemacht, was sie konnte, von welchem sie hatte, Kutteln, Bries, Leber (einige sind angeschwollen und Zirrhose, sie würden nicht in den Tiegel) Prärie-Austern (pintsize Kalb 'S Hoden Schlagsahne mit Sahne und Fenchel), die außerhalb Runde und Flanke-Steak, Ochsen-Schwanz und wilden Hammel, Nieren-und Hahn die Zunge, die Bergregionen und Schleuse aus dem Schlachthof Stock. She either boiled or skillet-fried everything, adding whatever spices and condiments the recipe required.Sie entweder gekocht oder gebraten Tiegel-alles, was Sie Gewürze und Würzmittel das Rezept erforderlich. She rolled calf’s brains in farina and cornmeal and made a makeshift oven out of cardboard and tin-foil, then placed it over the searing meat like a Pope’s Miter. Sie rollte Kalb's Hirn in Mehl und Maismehl und einen provisorischen Ofen aus Karton und Zinn-Folie, dann über das Fleisch austrocknend wie ein Papst der Miter. She plucked chickens and guinea fowl, partridge and wild turkeys, then poached the pale pinkish skin in a double-boiler until it turned gray and mottled. Sie pflückte Hühner und Perlhühner, Rebhuhn und wilde Truthähne, die dann pochierte blass rosa Haut in einem Doppel-Kessel, bis sie sich grau und gefleckt.

Wyldeoxin Beestuvburdun

Shez gut tha m’patago agai’n, tha saym strayn…tha coffeng an hawking, tha unyun tayst, tha spoyld boyelled yello tayst, tha curset fowell ohdar thet nevar seemd ta goaway. Shee did’nae remembar mutch, an thows thengs shee did remembar shee tryd ta fourget, ta put outtuv her th’oughts… fore’evar an evar…God bles’s us awl, eech an everee oneuvus…butt no’one wuz lissteneng, naree a sowl, no dog norevin a beestuvburdun, tha wyldeoxin thet liv’d near tha cornfeelds rowndby tha pepparfeelds rownd bythair…far’awhey, toofar ta see cleerlee withowt a payar uv byknockulars…that far’awhey’far, toofar ta seewith tha humin’i.

Monday, February 04, 2008

Bleb and Periwinkle Blue

Thinking about the carnage that my thinking creates, a tinderbox of odds and tidbits, a sour acrid peapod chowder, a bouillabaisse with a tart aftertaste. I have a sore foot, feet, I have sore feet, two of them, feet, two foots. If I had a choice, which I seldom do, I’d choose periwinkle blue, bluer than the bluest blue sky, maybe bluer yet. Blah, blah blabber blah, blah and so it goes, so on and so forth until all blahs are blabbered to bleb (a small blister on the skin; a small bubble, e.g. in glass; bleb·b: see bleb). I once knew a girl with a periwinkle bleb on the tip of her chin, a warty bleb, a warty witches’ bleb, a witches’ warty bleb. Poor sod, not a periwinkle picot (a loop that forms a pattern with others, e.g. in lace; to embroider small loops on fabric; pi·cot·ed; pi·cot·ing; pi·cots) to tosspot into. Shake a cow and out comes a foment of methane and gall; such a naughty-naught, cows’ feces and saltlick saltlicked salt.

Rereading Nietzsche

(February 4/08)

A reasonable person would be well into a night’s sleep by now; but I, not being of sound mind or reasonableness, sit here writing witless missives with my eyes barely ajar. I was rereading some Nietzsche, a dangerous exercise this late into the night, so Kant find a winks-worth of sleep; or if I could, it would surely be Hegelian, historically witless and drab. Tomorrow will come regardless of my desire for the contrary, or my dreams to the contrary, whichever comes frost, icy bastard fuck of a nightmarish nightly night, so it is isn’t is. The Robber of Birds’ Nest, what a glorious masterly work. No blest for the beery, so I say saying. Time for a reevaluation of reevaluation, or some such claptrappery.

Sunday, February 03, 2008

Dancing Stars












http://www.pitt.edu/~wbcurry/nietzsche.html http://www.francis-bacon.cx/

Hackleng and Fidjeteng

A sue-are bleek sk’eye, a grayt balluvblack tar. Helpheeve tha crown-enghead, cobbl’d in dar ma’s ovumketch. Hede allred an blistard, a wee caff’s tung lolleng lollenglee ona sawltlick in tha fallo rune. Murphy luckt at Mulligan an sayd, ‘for the love of God, man, the dog must go!’ Thaiyd been thru this befour, too manee tymes ta cownt; tha dog beeing’ a sorece uv mutch consternashun an sqwabbaleng. ‘For the life of me I can’t abide by it…the dog must go, immediately!’ Murphy luckt at Mulligan, hiss I’s beedeng, an sayd, ‘leave the poor thing be, it hasn’t a brain in its head, poor, poor thing.’ Apon here’eng this, tha dog, cowareng in tha corner, loward its errs, its tayl beetween its scabbee lags, tung lolleng, fir hackleng, paas fidjeteng, arse presst inta tha herdwood flore.

Saturday, February 02, 2008

James Augustine Aloysius Joyce (February 2, 1882-January13, 1941)

James Augustine Aloysius Joyce, born 2 February 1882 Rathgar (near Dublin) Ireland, died 13 January 1941 (from a perforated ulcer). Were it not for James Joyce, whose wordsaladry egged-on my own grammaticide, my life would ‘not be worth living’, as Nietzsche so eloquently put it. Today I will read Joyce’s Giacomo Joyce and revel in the amniocentesis of his words.

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"Poetry is the short-circuiting of meaning between words, the impetuous regeneration of primordial myth". Bruno Schulz

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