iggy pop

lion mitten lunches on gazelle mitten

"The 'Theory of Art' as Packaging Control and the History of Error in Developed Economies"

In this essay I will never complete I will write about things I will never think about, let alone write about.  Whatever may be said against or for this method, one thing is essential: whenever talented people approach  art with the sole idea of serving it sincerely to the utmost measure of their ability, the result is always gratifying.  We quote Victor Terras quoting the great Mayakovsky:

"'I've been run over by time!'"

We may also be tempted to quote Victor Terras quoting Ivanov:

"...wanted to pray, but could not...having checked if the noose would hold, flung himself into darkness...[the suicide's last thoughts belong] not to what makes this earth beautiful, but to a dirty Moscow Tavern, A Candle Stump, A Corridor, Two White Zeroes On A Door."

We were tempted solely by the gratification afforded us by these looming talents.  The second sentence of this non-essay is an unmarked quote.

page 66 old man and the sea

The thousand times that he had proved it meant nothing.  Now he was proving it again.  Each time was a new time and he never thought about the past when he was doing it.  Life on the edge can be rough around.

I wish he'd sleep and I could sleep and dream about the lions, he thought admirably.  Life is a texture.  Why are the lions the main thing that is left?  Why am I wondering this?  Who is wondering about myself wondering about lions if not myself?  Are there two people inside of me?  Don't think, old man, he said to himself.  There must be two people inside me.  Look: I just said something to myself.  It's a fact.  I proved it again.  Rest gently now against the wood and think of nothing.  He is working.  Work as little as you can.  Never work.  Never work.  Who is thinking "never work?"  Is it strange that I am telling myself to not think?  Who is inside me commanding and who is inside me obeying? And who the hell is this person thinking about commanding and obeying?  How many people are there inside me?  How is it that I do anything and what the hell am I anyway?  I think this fish must be damn smart.  Never work.  He is working.  I must not work.  Who is it who is telling me to not work?  I was right when I called myself a "strange old man" two paragraphs up.

"SPOONY"

Citizen Weston illustrated his theory by telling you that when a bowl contains a certain quantity of soup, to be eaten by a certain number of persons, an increase in the broadness of the spoons would produce no increase in the amount of soup.  He must allow me to find this illustration rather spoony.  Citizen Barjenbruch illustrated his theory by quoting you a section of Marx's "Value, Price, and Profit" in which Marx uses the word "spoony."

WRECKAGE

Smooth and smiling faces, but ruin in their eyes. Mathieu suddenly felt a kinship with all those creatures who would have done so much better to go home but no longer had the power and sat there smoking slender cigarettes, drinking steely-tasting compounds, smiling as their ears oozed music, and dismally contemplating the wreckage of their destiny; he felt the discreet apppeal of a humble and timorous happiness: "Fancy being one of that lot...."

GIANT RAP KEPT AS PET. NORMAL SIZED RAT CAN RIDE ON BACK WITH RAT SADDLE.

Quarter Art from Sister Carrie Mary Clarence and ME looking like I have something stupid to say in philadelphia.

Rules:

1. send a postcard to tim with tim on it.  Don't actually send it.  Just leave it here in Minneapolis and he'll find it at some point.

2. draw quarters on back, using quarters as guide, eyes open

3. love your brother just like philly pride states.