Saturday, August 02, 2003
Friday, August 01, 2003
Glorious Noise - Sam Phillips Dead: "Phillips: 'Jerry. Jerry. If you think that you can't, can't do good if you're a rock and roll exponent—'
Lewis: 'You can do good, Mr. Phillips, don't get me wrong—'
Phillips: 'Now wait, wait, listen. When I say do good—'
Lewis: 'You can have a kind heart!'
Phillips: 'I don't just mean, I don't mean just—'
Lewis: 'You can help people!'
Phillips: 'You can save souls!'
Lewis: 'No! No! No! No!'
Phillips: 'Yes!'
Lewis: 'How can the Devil save souls? What are you talking about?' "
Lewis: 'You can do good, Mr. Phillips, don't get me wrong—'
Phillips: 'Now wait, wait, listen. When I say do good—'
Lewis: 'You can have a kind heart!'
Phillips: 'I don't just mean, I don't mean just—'
Lewis: 'You can help people!'
Phillips: 'You can save souls!'
Lewis: 'No! No! No! No!'
Phillips: 'Yes!'
Lewis: 'How can the Devil save souls? What are you talking about?' "
Tuesday, July 29, 2003
John Ashbery - The Academy of American Poets: from "For John Clare"
"It is possible that finally, like coming to the end of a long,
barely perceptible rise, there is mutual cohesion and interaction. The
whole scene is fixed in your mind, the music all present, as though you
could see each note as well as hear it. I say this because there is an
uneasiness in things just now. Waiting for something to be over before
you are forced to notice it. The pollarded trees scarcely bucking the
wind--and yet it's keen, it makes you fall over. Clabbered sky.
Seasons that pass with a rush. After all it's their time
too--nothing says they aren't to make something of it. As for Jenny
Wren, she cares, hopping about on her little twig like she was tryin'
to tell us somethin', but that's just it, she couldn't
even if she wanted to--dumb bird. But the others--and they in some way
must know too--it would never occur to them to want to, even if they
could take the first step of the terrible journey toward feeling
somebody should act, that ends in utter confusion and hopelessness, east
of the sun and west of the moon. So their comment is: 'No comment.'
Meanwhile the whole history of probabilities is coming to life, starting
in the upper left-hand corner, like a sail."
"It is possible that finally, like coming to the end of a long,
barely perceptible rise, there is mutual cohesion and interaction. The
whole scene is fixed in your mind, the music all present, as though you
could see each note as well as hear it. I say this because there is an
uneasiness in things just now. Waiting for something to be over before
you are forced to notice it. The pollarded trees scarcely bucking the
wind--and yet it's keen, it makes you fall over. Clabbered sky.
Seasons that pass with a rush. After all it's their time
too--nothing says they aren't to make something of it. As for Jenny
Wren, she cares, hopping about on her little twig like she was tryin'
to tell us somethin', but that's just it, she couldn't
even if she wanted to--dumb bird. But the others--and they in some way
must know too--it would never occur to them to want to, even if they
could take the first step of the terrible journey toward feeling
somebody should act, that ends in utter confusion and hopelessness, east
of the sun and west of the moon. So their comment is: 'No comment.'
Meanwhile the whole history of probabilities is coming to life, starting
in the upper left-hand corner, like a sail."
Monday, July 28, 2003
Rockford Log
Insurance salesman eating a malted with a wooden paddle out of a paper cup with well-spaced diamonds, hearts, clubs and spades. Ask for Oly sign at the demolition derby. Seneca construction workers. Blue plastic alligator checkbook cover. The hard clack of typewriters in the insurance office. Brown miniskirt with three pink bands. A sports shirt under a maroon jacket with interlocking emerald and blue faux-Escher shapes.
Insurance salesman eating a malted with a wooden paddle out of a paper cup with well-spaced diamonds, hearts, clubs and spades. Ask for Oly sign at the demolition derby. Seneca construction workers. Blue plastic alligator checkbook cover. The hard clack of typewriters in the insurance office. Brown miniskirt with three pink bands. A sports shirt under a maroon jacket with interlocking emerald and blue faux-Escher shapes.
Jordan:"Jim lugged a foam rubber window display spray painted brown to look like a brownie from Thompson and Prince to Dyckman and Broadway. He gave an extra wiffle kit to a family of three kids on the A."
Sunday, July 27, 2003
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