from a bottle
Photographs are dangerous. And the more ordinary, the more potent. It is not making a photograph that steals the soul. It’s the looking.
Trent Bendix, Grieving for Margaret.
Photographs are dangerous. And the more ordinary, the more potent. It is not making a photograph that steals the soul. It’s the looking.
Trent Bendix, Grieving for Margaret.
“I believe there should be more Huns in the world, not fewer. No, no, wait. I meant to say puns, not Huns.” And Delbert reinforced his belief by supplying the following: (1) Elision Fields; (2) Hairy Lime; (3) icon tacked; (4) borne again; (5) manic cure; (6) tone ail; (7) moanlight; (8) ore chasm; (9) apart meant.
Jason Starling, ed., Adventures in Narrative Parsimony.
A face model stares out at me. For second after second. Her eyes are a fictitious shade of blue. Simply impossible. A fearful cobalt symmetry. And what does it all say? “Believe in me. Believe in me. Please believe in me.“
Burdyce Goode, Philosophy of Vegetables.
“The answer, I am afraid, must be No. It must be the word No.” The reader should feel free to imagine any question. Any at all.
Ralston Dowd, The General Ghastliness.
Breakfast. The classic dry toast, butter, and jam. And a Brown Betty two-thirds full of strong black tea. The whole leaf. Showing a bit of flex, if you can find it. And with that familiar caffeine hum now in place, my thoughts turned to ale. As usual, dark English ale. Bottle after bottle.
Chadwick Graves, Maoist Struggle Session and Other Stories.
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.