The Museum of Stones
...stone from the silvery grass near the scaffold,Carolyn Forché
stone from the tunnel lined with bones...
New Yorker
The Museum of Stones
...stone from the silvery grass near the scaffold,Carolyn Forché
stone from the tunnel lined with bones...
still here 19:54
His parents didn't know what to do:
In September[2007], David [Foster Wallace, then 45 years old] asked Amy to forgo her annual fall-break visit. He wasn't up to it. By October, his symptoms had become bad enough to send him to the hospital. His parents didn't know what to do. "I started worrying about that," Sally [his mother] says, "but then it seemed OK."David Lipsky/Rolling Stone 30.Oct.08
still here 21:05
My Heart to Fear
...every whichway, through their hoopsHeather McHugh
and scorn. For the walls of health are bright...
still here 00:01
The Laughing Thrush
...yes this is the place and the one time
in the whole of before and after
with all of memory waking into it...
still here 23:14
Instead of the missing Oddities, this will have to do:Hazel Ruffles had all the diamonds. Alison Chivers held the hearts. The spades were with the dummy.
still here 23:15
One Web Day
for Boynton
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The Queer, the Quaint, and the Quizzical was a book in the university library stacks I found just wandering years ago, when I was young, and read for a while each time I was there. A 19th c. miscellany of weird stuff.
So Futility Closet is a compendium of things drawn from suchlike books, and many of them, and it was what I was going to link to as the One Web Day example of the internet's provident nature and overall good richness.
So but of course it is currently down, or gone, or missing for a while.
This after spending a few hours today poring over its Oddities archive.
Which may reappear any moment now.
As the somewhat missing Ramage has done.
still here 23:11
Moving
Maria Bamford
SuperDeluxe.com
-
via Dayrobber
Dayrobber has the great business model
still here 20:53
still here 14:15
The Deadly Sins/Despair;The One Unforgivable Sin
Yet there remains a persistent counterimpulse, an irresistible tug toward stasis and toward those truths that, in Melville's words, will not be comforted. At the antipode of American exuberance and optimism there is the poet's small, still, private voice, the voice of individual conscience; the voice, for instance, of Dickinson, who, like Rainer Maria Rilke and Gerard Manley Hopkins, mined the ideal vocabulary for investigating those shifting, penumbral states of consciousness that do, in the long run, constitute our lives. Whatever our public identities may be, whatever our official titles, our heralded or derided achievements and the statistics that accrue to us like cobwebs, this is the voice we trust. For, if despair's temptations can be resisted, surely we become more human and compassionate, more like one another in our common predicament.Joyce Carol Oates/NYTimes 25.Jul.93
There is a pain - so utter -Emily Dickinson
It swallows +substance up -
Then covers the Abyss with Trance -
So Memory can step
Around - Across - upon it -
As One within A Swoon -
Goes +safely - where an Open Eye -
Would drop Him - Bone by Bone
still here 11:04
There is at least one gratifying juxtaposition:
But still, our understanding of the mechanisms of the world remains fuzzy around the edges. If we were told that our computer worked because there was an angel inside, some of us couldn’t disprove it. The cultures were undivided in Leonardo’s day, but now those of us who deal in metaphors don’t know how to make machines. If we wanted to move a mountain, we would have to rely on faith.Hilary Mantel/LRB
still here 11:41