Birthday week acquisitions. Not a bad haul. (Over half were used bookstore serendipities.)
It’s one thing to find a book signed by the poet in a used bookstore—
—but then to notice there’s a broadside tucked inside, signed by that poet?…
And all for ten bucks?
Happy Birthday to me.
Thirty-five years with this machine.
List #4: 1, 15, 16, 17, 18, 21, 28, 35, 36, 40, 41, 42, 45
List #5: 4, 3, 2, 1, 0, 00, 000, 0000, OM, J, D
In light of some recent conversations regarding Markdown and Ulysses, I’ve republished some posts from early 2021, on syncing, file management, and a very rocky trial of Ulysses.
Phrasing
Just now, over my morning coffee, I’ve been listening to an album from the 70s, deep in the Era of LPs. Fortyish minutes long, twenty-odd minutes to a side.
Thomas Pynchon, Gravity’s Rainbow:
In one of these streets, in the morning fog, plastered over two slippery cobblestones, is a scrap of newspaper headline, with a wirephoto of a giant white cock, dangling in the sky straight downward out of a white pubic bush. The letters
MB DRO ROSHI appear above with the logo of some occupation newspaper, a grinning glamour girl riding astraddle the cannon of a tank, steel penis with slotted serpent head, 3rd Armored treads ’n’ triangle on a sweater rippling across her tits. The white image has the same coherence, the hey-lookit-me smugness, as the Cross does. It is not only a sudden white genital onset in the sky — it is also, perhaps, a Tree…
How can this pen still be writing? Where’s the ink coming from? It’s been going for over a week like this. What word will finish it off?
88: Wednesday Blue
89: Great Lakes (Michigan)
Starting with Lake Michigan, since I was born about a thousand feet from its shore. I love Superior, but I’ve always thought of Michigan as “my” lake…
🔗 Ken Knabb’s situationist archive is now housed in the Beinecke Library at Yale.