NOTE: This history of everyman only more so begins
at the following link. Please go there if you have not come from there:
Epilogue
The Queen of Between
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....and so she took to writing,
for what is language, but ineffable Flubber or Crazee Clazee -- neutral, a skin transparent to the skin, or ghastly bright in the mind's holograms, printable, stretchable, breakable, moldable, all dried out by time and if not well structured crumbling, an imitation that, if now is always the beginning, if nature apart is an illusion, as is time apart from space, might be the original, laugh as you like.
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| Leaking Vessel 2014 |
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writing in any case being the best thing for cleaning the rare book of writing, when dastardly divisive dirt, degraded usage contributing to the rot of the root, converting the poetic original to an arbitrary code -- starts to dribble into its very dictionary.
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From a kerious kernel of his cob, this corn's now as high as an elephant's eye, worthy to inherit the family monkey business. This time Veri's got hold of Toto (Terry Koko) and won't let him go and tear away the curtain, no calling your bluff this time. She just sees your bet, reader, and raises you, prepared to keep churning out more and more of this minimally pre-crystallized illustriously illuminated, moist tacky -- reader, you should be able by now to feel language on your fingertips and be eager to roll it around in your hands and make something sensible (meaning not just logical, but also sense-able; but be careful, then they'll call you as crazy as I am) with it before it crumbles or melts on your clothes -- fishy salty wordy stuff you illuminated so illustriously, writing in any case being the best thing for cleaning the rare book of writing, when dastardly divisive dirt, degraded usage contributing to the rot of the root, converting the poetic original to an arbitrary code -- starts to dribble into its very dictionary.
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be it be the book that's a face or a mask, be it the thing itself or a degraded imitation, or, optimally, one is the warp and the other woof, one the form, the other the dappled, freckled shadows -- hoping to give the world a lifetime supply that will do its part to extend our potentially and sometimes actually wonderful life indefinitely, on Mars or wherever.
be it be the book that's a face or a mask, be it the thing itself or a degraded imitation, or, optimally, one is the warp and the other woof, one the form, the other the dappled, freckled shadows -- hoping to give the world a lifetime supply that will do its part to extend our potentially and sometimes actually wonderful life indefinitely, on Mars or wherever.
In short, the last, Crazee Clayzee, crazy enough to be right, not mean enough to be too crazy, is the first, the missing link, neither world nor word, and sticking them, so long lost without each other, back together. Everything is such a missing link, in truth, this is just the demonstrative case.
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God bless America and the open frontier. Different as they may be, and Vive la Difference! that yin and yang, words and world, naught-y hole and naughty peg -- the metaphor, not him! The voracious Victorian just didn't want Kathy to move into an apartment with male roommates when he slipped into Deadwoodese and cried I don't care if it's your best friend, I don't care if it's your brother, sometimes nuthin'll stop a man but a 45! -- could synchronize so swimmingly in this vortex of synchronicity, that language play such putty in a nobody's hands! It's a dastardly miracle. The devil must have done it. Lord have mercy on me!  |
| Willem de Kooning: Rainbow, the Devil at the Keyboard |
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This just in from the Vatican: Veri's not excommunicated! They say a demon rushes in whenever somebody endeavors a good deed, and by the garish bulk here, the good deed intended must have been formidable. (Phew! Thanks to Harry, also a coin collector, for the publicly anonymous contribution to the Vatican of those papal coins.) Far more unforgivable is to aspire to so little good as to conjure up no more than a poor little retarded illiterate demon with no global aspirations whatsoever. Those timid aspirants are the ones who destroy little children with gestures of love.
many thanks to Hirsch clan facebook page for photographs. The only ones there that illuminate the text are fortuitously, coincidentally* apt in expression.
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*despite degradation of the original code, the word, co-incidence, does not imply judgement as to the source of, or reason or lack of reason for two incidents coinciding -- by random chance or divine guidance or anything; see footnote TOWARD THE END of the scroll entitled Why is Ray Smith revisiting Picasso? -- on the necessity of restoring the roots of language and reviving the original meanings of words -- FOUND AT:
and special thanks to Doc Cousin Mary for wisely prescribing some
all natural hair of the hot pink punk gunk that bit me
all natural hair of the hot pink punk gunk that bit me
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| by Harry's Potter, 2014 |
