Archive for July, 2007
Monthly Archive
Saturday, July 28th, 2007
Mark Twain, Letters from the Earth (1909)
In man’s heaven, there are no exercises for the intellect, nothing for it to live upon. It would rot there in a year — rot and stink. Rot and stink and at that stage become holy. A blessed thing; for only the holy can stand the joys of that bedlam.
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Monday, July 16th, 2007
Oz, Act I
From the North Rises the bubble-sphere Clear, within which Glides Glinda, the Good Witch. In the East Storms misery, gloom Broom-ridden skies through which rides A rival witch, wicked, and doomed. And down below, Down low to the the Land, A kind of man Hides behind hedgerow stands Awaiting winds Of spinning Fate Blow thee, [...]
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Wednesday, July 11th, 2007
Untitled
Two tones, like mine Many from which to choose Why have they chosen mine? Are our aural origins So similar as to sense these sweet sounds The same way? Why?
