James Joyce made his only film in 1912 during his last
brief period of residency in
The film was never shown again and is presumed lost.
***
1.00000
1.08926
1.61205
1.96789
2.27729
4.42160
5.27734
7.30443
7.59012
8.41990
9.25055
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10.7809
11.7053
14.3827
15.5604
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21.4642
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23.0424
25.0746
25.5052
27.6753
28.9308
29.9620
31.3420
31.5014
32.0505
33.9708
39.3217
39.4824
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42.4075
45.4470
46.7004
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49.4424
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73.2711
73.7130
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74.6285
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75.6217
78.1019
78.2853
78.4916
81.4022
84.0038
86.3713
86.4218
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87.6056
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99.2859
100.000
***
God and Satan got together for brunch
Monday morning as they always do to trade notes concerning their sole or shared
congregations of the previous three days.
-There's my list.
-Mmm, right.
Okay, here's mine.
-Pretty short list this week.
-We've got a backlog.
-I see.
-So.... shall I make the call to Death?
-If you don't mind.
-This coffee's like dishwater.
-Tell me about it.
-You seen Gravity yet?
-Going tonight. You?
-Saw it last Wednesday.
-How was it?
-It's very good.
-Sandra...
-Bullock. How's she?
-She's great. Really
a star.
-Not fond of George Clooney.
-He's good, though.
***
And while we're straying
from the subject.
A review of Automne that misses the point.
First of all, how does each of these eight characters know
at almost all times where the person they're looking for is going to be?
Character walks into a room, there's the characters
they're trying to see.
Second of all, and more important than the first point
(which I must say superbly misses the point), where do they get the guns
from? There's always just enough guns to go around.
How could anyone have known how many guns were going
to be in any room?
***
John, is the previous strip an example of that which the
vulgar refer to as a warning sign? or are you trying
to create a new grammar that isn't interested, as a personification, in number
or tense? Naturally it's the former.
You've got trouble coming and you know it. You can't think
straight. You can barely speak, true? And what about that
pain in your nerves or whatever? Do you think the pain will go away?
Whistle in that dark graveyard, John. Keep that typing
going. You will mean nothing in a hundred years—so get used to it now.
***
William Before
Richard and J Before K
In the dark J stranded by a short turn streetcar (King and
Church) had a bus pull up in front of him. The door of Pape
72A opened, and he got on because he knew it neared, eventually, his home.
The bus went down and across streets he'd never heard of
before. The pixels displayed the alien stops south of
He arrived home just ten minutes later than usual.
***
CALLER: I think we should just go right out and abolish
radios. You know, it's just so frustrating when you hear about something
terrible happening and you know you just can't do anything about it at all.
You're all passive. So if we get rid of radios there'd be a whole lot
less anxiety or whatever. Will you back me on this?
HOST: Rather an unusual topic for a call-in show. But tell
me, Helen. Why don't you go first? Throw out your radio?
CALLER: Now you're being ridiculous. It only works if it's
everyone. The land of the deaf.
***
Ring.
Ford:
Hello?
Lisi: Man, my head's gonna blow!
Ford:
Hello?
Ring.
Ford:
Izzat you, Lisi?
Lisi: The shit they sayin' 'bout you, man!
Ford:
Calm down. Don't go Mungo.
Lisi: Such lies!
Ford:
It'll blow over, man. Hello?
Ring.
Lisi: I gonna
find 'em, say: Gimme the
tape or I off you!
Ford:
Don't! Blessed are the peacemakers! Hello?
Ring.
Ford:
Lisi, stop!
Lisi: I love you, man! I fuckin' love you!
Ford:
Fine, I love you too, don't threaten to harm anyone!
Ring.
Lisi: O cruelty! Why can't they
just leave us alone?
Ford:
It gets better, Lisi!
--
***
Was it here? What is here? Why is there no W. here? Here
am I, and here are you, but it's no W. here as far as W(...)
is concerned. What's true is that I am prior and you are latter.
I can't control the latter. But I do notice: no W. here. If no W. here, W. E.
can't find W. hat we are. But W. hen did that ever happen? W. hat is no W.
here. W. hat is her E? You are T. here. There's no W. here, but T. here's here.
No W. here but here.
***
Strangest phenomenon I ever experienced? Golly, I really
have to say ... the last six months or so, in the bedroom I share with the
wife.
How long had the shoeboxes been multiplying? Can't say really. I just noticed there were five in the
corner near the closet.
Then there was a bigger cardboard box, and one fewer
shoebox.
Almost every day there was a greater volume of box.
Thought of mentioning it to the wife, but I never did.
Then Saturday all the boxes were gone. Think I'll ask the
wife about it ... next time I see her.
***
Dear Mayor Robert Ford,
For the last week or so, we've been having long and
complicated discussions about your recent behaviour. What else could we do when
we saw you faced with accusations of drug and alcohol abuse, petty extortion
and possible threats of violence, and meet-ups with entirely unseemly men a
half generation your junior? We, and our boards and sub-boards, implore you to
rectify this very unacceptable behaviour. Otherwise we may have to take action
against you socially. Believe us, no option remains but to beg you to mend your
reprobate ways.
Yours sincerely,
The Harper Valley P.T.A.
--
***
This is the way it is. Either the universe has a meaning
to it or it doesn't have a meaning to it.
Meanwhile, we're all running around, finding or making
meaning. If the universe has a meaning we are finding it, and if the universe
doesn't have a meaning we are making it.
If the former is correct we share something fundamental
with the universe (because we are in concord); if the latter, we are entirely
alienated from it (because we are in discord).
In the former case, we are therefore wise. In the latter
case, we are therefore fools.
***
Pat looked at the fire hot on his eyes. It was a
phenomenon, this fire-stuff. A chemical reaction, not a thing
at all. He looked to the window. It was raining snow outside.
Luke was packing his bags. The flight and everything would
take, like, twenty-five hours. And he saw himself thinking, can't believe
I'm here. He looked outside. Leaves were leaving the trees and the sky.
Annabella woke from a happy dream.
She could feel it in her heart. The bed was cozy. Why not just lie here, not
sleeping, just thinking about herself? Outside, rain was snowing down.
***
Back in the '70s, in
***
The pictures I took actually had a gallery show, you know.
They were exhibited for a week and I sold over half of them. The one that sold
for the most was one I took of the Governor of California Ronald Reagan. I told
him, "Just you, in your most comfortable position." "Like I'm relaxed." "Yes." We went into
his backyard and he got into position. "There." I took the shot. It's Reagan lying in his hammock, his feet crossed, and he's
reading the National Review. The Bisset went for much
less; to whom the Reagan went I never learned.
***
I remember him well. I was around twenty-four, working at
The Canadian Home Shopping Network. His name was Mario L. He was from
***
Was
he going to let the fact that the girl he secretly loved was secretly in love
with his room-mate? and did it bother him that day
when he ran out to walk with her down the twisting street where she wanted to
talk about his room-mate exclusively? and does it
matter that the three of them while pilfering a chicken-truck found it moving? or did it matter that his room-mate and the girl he secretly
loved managed to get out before the truck got moving too fast to get out? that he was trapped? further and
further away?
No!
***
The Mars-ship landed and the Mars-man de-shipped. "I
am from Mars. Take me to you leader."
We sniggered.
The Mars-man said, "What are you laughing at?"
We said, "It's the way you talk, man. Seen movies
much?"
"Not that many; five or
so. Now
will you take me to your leader?"
"Like, which one?"
"Your head
Earthling."
"We don't have one."
"Why, how do you self-organize?"
"We just do it."
"What about your United
Nations?"
"Man, that's a fake government."
The Mars-man, downcast, returned to his Mars-ship.
The Mars-woman said, "Well?"
"No-one to talk
to."
"So much for Earth. Detonate."
***
The social unit viciously turns against one of its
members. True and false don't matter and right and wrong don't matter. The
member is the pharmakos. He is the poison of the
unit, and his death will be the cure.
What has to be noticed is not the member but the unit.
Their behaviour, their need to belong, is the phenomenon.
We've had the gospel for 2000 years but it's still the
same thing.
Each piece of the unit imitates every other piece and
tries to outdo it.
Again: the victim doesn't matter. The society coheres,
hungry for more violence.
***
"My son, I have wisdom for you.
"Do not work at any establishment for too long.
"You have to ask why?
"I should disinherit you.
"On your first day, you will know no-one.
"But you'll start to know people.
"At least by sight.
"Such that it will
become increasingly difficult to get out of the establishment without being
emotionally detained by someone or other.
"You don't understand?
"The number of the people you know in some way or
another will increase logarithmically such that you'll need devious routes to
have solitude.
"You still don't understand?
"You're no son of mine."
***
Two bottles were standing on the bar and a drunk was on a
stool, looking at them. He picked up one, examined it, and set it down again.
The other bottle said, "Omigod,
did I just see what I think I saw?"
The bottle who had been picked up said, "What?"
"That guy. I saw it. I swear. He was
looking at your punt."
"No, no."
"He. Was
looking. At. Your punt."
"No way; he was just reading the bottom of my
label!"
"Uh-uh."
"I'd know."
"I saw what I saw."
"Well. I guess my punt is prettier than yours."
***
The Passion of Sergius Bauer
Why did I do it the way I did? Why did I
ever marry that woman? I didn't have to live in number
***
Every toy gets scuffed, broken, guttered. Broken dolls in
a drawer in a desk in the basement, marbles cased in muck at a sewer-bottom,
dumps of Speak and Spells that don't say a thing anymore. Of course it's sad.
We'd like to think they care, even just a little, that maybe, just maybe,
they'd come back to even terrorize us if they wanted to, like hungry ghosts.
But that's not how things work, now is it? They are discarded, like everything,
even like ourselves. They are the days, retired and irrelevant, useless except
as memento mori, made for children's hands.
***
I touched my forehead to the ground before the Emperor,
who said, Ah so. You are now Honorary Chinaman. You go now to world, you no
crazy man, you Honorary Chinaman now, go now to world.
Ah so. Take sword like sparrow take grass, like dragon take sky. Have one wife
number one, have one wife number two, have concubine one two three four, like
Emperor. Mock round-eyes, ha ha,
round-eyes with stupid little language. Combine on scroll, ah so,
picture of land and sky and man in middle. Write place and name on side, ah so
name.
蝴
蝶
***
from The Analects
Wow, this Rob Ford
stuff ... reminds me of the first time I ever saw a child drown at a picnic.
--8 November 2013
***
Holy shit, I just now
get it. Lola is a guy!
--11 November 2013
***
When did épater la
bourgeoisie rise from an aesthetic programme to a political one?
--14 November 2013
***
I've been keeping it so
real, I now own a parallel universe.
--15 November 2013
***
14 November 2013. 0922.
Ontario Premier Kathleen Wynne looks up from her desk and stares, steely, into
sharpshooter distance. "Someone just said pussy."
--15 November 2013
***
Sensing Pam McConnell was about to
faint, Rob Ford rushed over to prevent her from falling. What a great guy!
--18 November 2013
***
Toronto City Council has voted to
strip the Mayor of the power to have publickly flogged any citizen discovered
driving livestock north on Yonge Street.
--18 November 2013
***
Geez, what's up with double doors in
public spaces where one door is pointlessly locked shut? Doesn't it make you
want to kick the next custodian you come across?
--18 November 2013
***
Just
now on CNN Barack Obama
said taxes are the price we all pay for liberal contempt.
--
***
I
remember, when I was ten, the
--19 November 2013
***
A
man, a plan, a canal: Lester B Pearson.
--19 November 2013
