NEUTRAL FEVER
(an abstract - w/don delillo)
'I am writing without benefit of clergy;
without benefit of anything actually.
After all, one should not prejudge something
not yet finished. Like the Gods and their shellac,
what shines the most isn't always the best. I
do understand this : I can tell failure by its
gait, its walk, or the sag in its spoken words.
A regular Sam Cooke melody of sad and
dumb. Maybe dumb like Pluto was dumb.
God of the Dead, and God of the Underworld
too. Or dumb like the silent 'B' in dumb is dumb.
Just think, think of all the sad nymphomaniacs
with sad pussies everywhere. Or the same, with
Buddhist pussies. Detachment is the keyword.
Deathward is the cultivated motion, like the falling
of all matter in the universe and the terminus of
every plot. Land-policed by the King's linguists,
by the technicians in Death-Systems control.
I didn't say all of this, mind you. A little of
it, believe me, I swear to you, I really mean
it, is Don DeLillo's. Like the high winds
which eventually rip everything
to bitter, sorry shreds.'
(an abstract - w/don delillo)
'I am writing without benefit of clergy;
without benefit of anything actually.
After all, one should not prejudge something
not yet finished. Like the Gods and their shellac,
what shines the most isn't always the best. I
do understand this : I can tell failure by its
gait, its walk, or the sag in its spoken words.
A regular Sam Cooke melody of sad and
dumb. Maybe dumb like Pluto was dumb.
God of the Dead, and God of the Underworld
too. Or dumb like the silent 'B' in dumb is dumb.
Just think, think of all the sad nymphomaniacs
with sad pussies everywhere. Or the same, with
Buddhist pussies. Detachment is the keyword.
Deathward is the cultivated motion, like the falling
of all matter in the universe and the terminus of
every plot. Land-policed by the King's linguists,
by the technicians in Death-Systems control.
I didn't say all of this, mind you. A little of
it, believe me, I swear to you, I really mean
it, is Don DeLillo's. Like the high winds
which eventually rip everything
to bitter, sorry shreds.'
1 comment:
oh the v word!
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