WH

I'm still holding out, heavily wounded, katana in hand but hanging limply at my side

chris hedges? I bet he does!

Wow, thanks so much for showing me this "Art". Just what I needed - to be drawn more deeply into the World of Illusion.

Disembark at Lille. You will be met on the platform by a man in a Tyrolean hunting jacket. Tell him only, "the mellow ouzel fluted in the elm," and no more. He will reply, "full thorly threpen throstills in the bankes," and conduct you to an estaminet where you are to await further instructions.

it's that which flutes in the elm

All of these articles about how much it costs to raise a child fail to factor in the difficulties of only speaking Latin at home and having no non-Latin texts around to ensure they never learn any other language.

No I agree. it's just so flagrantly Poetic

incredible

Lol

another bit from Jünger, this bafflingly comprehensible description

Yesterday there was a single giant fly in the house. This morning he came in my room, hovered slowly over my cup of juice, and then lowered himself in

Time to sit back with a cup of water and watch the posts scroll in…

this is how Dryden opens his Essay of Dramatic Poesy. contemporary litcritters could learn a thing or two

Suggested:
Why is the beast so rough?
More about the beast's hour
Where is the beast slouching toward?

"STEM" is insufficient for a modern economy. We need to make it "STEAM" by adding Artifice, to ensure a supply of cunningly-wrought golden birds for the Emperor, that sing by an arrangement of valves.

Everybody thinks that it's their ideology that's going to rise from the ashes when society burns, but I do think that my particular ideology (weeping bitterly among ash heaps) really does have a good chance.

Wife won't bring me an Invigorating Drop. "What does that mean", she says. "What are you talking about?"

A more true woods is reflected in the creek. I flip myself off from there

1 day off the flute. I’m fiending so bad right now

Everyone watched my 4 minute yawn

The toddler has generalised from my telling him that several things he wants to do today won't happen until Tuesday. He now comments on any unmet desire by sombrely saying "Tuesday". All earthly flaws now to be mended in the pleroma of Tuesday, the time of promise.

The root of human foolishness is our fondness for Music. We are placated from infancy with artificial opiates of the tympanum, and so never heed the rhythms of Nature.

(Billy corgan voice) the world is an uncle

I enter the time machine sheepishly, clutching a copy of Dawkins's The God Delusion; you open at random your Collected Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins and read, 'The world is charged with the grandeur of science.'

lol

You live here

Remarkable that nephew literature once existed, that works like Rameau's Nephew and Wittgenstein's Nephew celebrated being an eccentric half-forgotten appendix to some intellectual personage. All over now of course. Due to the nuclear family