these are the timesdirty beloved


Like many of the little magazines of the early twentieth century, Dana has been all but lost to memory, surviving largely in the occasional footnote which duly cites it as the journal in which one of James Joyce's earliest published poems appeared. This piece, here titled only Song, is an unremarkable verse describing a young girl who—though she may presage the famous ‘bird-girl’ who occasions Stephen Dedalus's epiphany in A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man—bears a more striking resemblance to similar figures in the work of Oliver Gogarty, AE, and other Dana poets. Though the poem is signed, Joyce's name does not appear in the table of contents on the journal's deep green cover—this despite the fact that alone among the contributors to the magazine he had been paid the considerable sum of one guinea for a mere twelve lines of verse. One of Dana's editors would later commission the essay “A Portrait of the Artist” and then refuse to publish it claiming that it was incomprehensible. Joyce, ever distrustful of editors and publishers, told his brother Stanislaus that the piece was simply too autobiographical for the magazine's tastes and “these gentlemen consider that he has no right yet to write about himself”

General Introduction to Dana: An Irish Magazine of Independent Thought
Sean Latham
The Modernist Journals Project


You Miss It

...the way you rose up to meet it
in fear, and were enlarged,
somehow, by the rising
and your own fumbling for sounds,
sequences, syllables

to cast yourself like a spell
into the midst of something...

Max Garland
Poetry Daily


Dust Be My Destiny (1939) on TCM just now. Priscilla Lane's on the stand trying to free her man John Garfield with a heartfelt plea. It's a tearjerker, but as I was listening to her she said the word "you" in a way that seemed false, New England upper class-y, but then it didn't, and then it seemed just old movie-ish, but then I figured it was an accurate rendition of some idiomatic usage, so I tried to sound it out, maybe get a fix on it, and it was something like "yo-uh" only the second vowel is barely aspirated. And the "o" isn't really long. But there it is again. Yo-uh - which is exactly how it's spelled. That's how people said that word, at the time it first was written down. And for a long while after.

Video of the Hand of God


"No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away.Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.
Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. "
Steve Jobs, Commencement Stanford 2005

Sonic Fabric "emits sound when you run a tape head (the little thingy inside the tape deck that touches the tape) over it. my high-school punk band, Jack Kerouac, ocean surf, shamanic medicine songs recorded in the Peruvian jungle, ambient city street noise, the improvisational/experimental ensembles of myself and my friends, the Beatles (especially Revolution #9 ... my earliest influence), and Pachelbel's canon in D (my earliest musical memory)."

link Rummage Through The Crevices


Elvis Mystic

Jeff Davis/Side Order Studio

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