The peculiar—the insipid—death of Isadora Duncan. Death by classical physics. A parody of modernism.
Hugh Drummond, A Canine World.
Rock ‘n’ roll provided swift escape from 500 years of European culture. It has always been so much more than mere mindlessness.
Logan Nygaard, A Treatise on Amusement.
Q: What do women detest most in men?
A: Indifference.
Anne Sensabaugh, A Short History of Boredom.
With the esoteric, this should always be asked: What do they mean by “the ordinary”? It is a sign that they are obsessed with their own boredom.
Mirri Alfassa, How I Lost My Coat, and Other Narratives.
I might be a monster, too. I don’t know. But insects are monsters.
Amanda Willcoxen, ed., The Literary and Philosophical Fragments of Gregory James Sallust.
“Katie never tired of being obvious,” complained Mr. Matheson. “At least, I saw no signs of tiring.”
Virgil Simms, The Case of the Frivolous Factotum.
Does the insect know what it sounds like? What does it sound like?
Clifford Parkening, How the Moon Doth Sway.
Novelist: a person who craves the admiration of others.
Clive Winslow, A Crustacean’s Dictionary.
Corbin dreamed of becoming what he called “a reasonable member of the general community.” Nothing less would do.
Buster Kelso, Crimes Against Music.
November 17, 2010. Try as I might, I couldn’t get around the phrase “images broken unto the ground.” Today was dominated by those words.
Reginald Boyington, Dear Dreadful Diary.
dennis scharnberg 