A modest proposal. Let’s make a master list of all the things that cannot be talked about, of all the facts that cannot be acknowledged. We could bury it in an old cookie tin, along with a moonstone, a Yogi Berra baseball card, and a few bird feathers.
Rollo Marquardt, Dwelling in the Cupcake World.
What do I want to see from today’s artists? Just the slightest hint of embarrassment that all we have is modernism (and its debris).
Crispin Trove, The Viewer as Pest.
A photograph is an invitation to stare.
Benjamin Alexis, Thriving under the Influence.
The one who comprehends the mystery of every little damned thing. What do we call this person? And not the one who claims to know.
Amanda Willcoxen, ed., The Literary and Philosophical Fragments of Gregory James Sallust.
The following topics were assembled for discussion: (1) days of Plymouth old; (2) Brownian motion; (3) that we use words (any words at all); (4) secularism as a void, not a plenum; (5) perhaps you just thought you were sleeping; (6) the wickedness of magnesium; (7) how to become a victim; (8) why there is something (instead of nothing); (9) those lovely seaside girls.
Tessa Fielding and Constance Gogarty, A Book of Lists.
Catherine held on desperately to three statements from the dream: (1) “A skiff from nowhere.” (2) “The king waits in the bare branches.” (3) “A dazzling rain of gem stones.”
Giles Coxe-Coburn, Belief in Insects.
“Some guy scooting around on stage while playing rhythm guitar. Now, how could that fail to lead to a glorious future for one and all?” Allen was feeling that old nausea about rock ‘n’ roll. And he was sharing it. Generously.
Pryce Cummings, Rattle Box.
“I am embarking upon a policy of rigorous honesty. Starting now. From this moment forward.” Despite the solemn tone of voice and the earnest facial expression, this was all a game for Todd. Just fun.
Grayling Scott, An Inventory of Characters.
Scientific theories are interesting, yes. But their sequence is also interesting.
Cedric Plumm, All Roads Lead.
What overwhelms the paranoid is the sheer coherence of his construction of the world. It cannot be argued with.
Octavius Kinder, A Sustainable Unhappiness.
