MICHAEL SEAN STRICKLAND
Third Pod
Several variations to choose from
§ 134 | Parsimonious
Every
once in a pixel-blasted wh
ile I, blanc exploit à couper le souffle (as my antecedent
ly own ON reveals luridly e
nough
in § 47), have to w
arn the reader off those
slick ominous obsequ
ious “Étiennes-à-équerre” types b
ent on promot
ing a seem
ingly m
uy умный lie touch
ing
on some
eminent procédé the impert
inent morphology of the im
minent proced
ure of which neces
sitates that,
in order to go
ose-ste
p in lexical bea
uty, you limn εὐϊῶτ
ως (bacchanalianly) beneath the obsc
ure
org
one la
mp or intentio caec
a of making yo
ur u
bilexical pneumatophantic i
mprint onerous f
or the sake of
onerousness, the result be
ing that even such
a lovely slow Rennfahre
rin als die B
arkeno-
Maorische
M (
one of the m
any lovers — we’ll noctivagously sta
mp on, inter alia, the pedals with her et aliae
in m
ore detail so
on e
nough, d
on’t you w
orry — I was subsequently to acqu
ire hencef
orth) wh
o’s w
ont to
sashay comme une videco
q énéantie so εὐίσχι
ως (beautifully h
ipped) sel
on l’id
oine Seine, sa quête en chan
oinie, sa tense queue
et son sein — aïe! — queutard(e)s
comme il faut in the
rain-
slick (moites)
rues d
urant le
moiss
on à Lutèce, t
urns from her
ipsis
sim
i sinuos
e qui esse into an εὔϊχθυς,
moisie fl
aque toisée sinnentstellend und
nicht
sinnenfroh at all.
Te
rse, woolly, navel-nakedly resplende
nt mine, por ot
ro lad
o, simply
ins
ists that, to v
amp, leap, gallo
p in lexical bea
uty, you limn εὒϊστ
ως (scientoleptically), whether the c
onditi
ons, the c
ontext, the c
ircumstances be
Colimski-f
acile, Blixen-parl
ous, Steinian-eeequuibabbulbull
ominent, prest
issim
o A.-Quinite, Nesse-enmeshed, or more g
enerally N.-V.-S.-Woolf-d
roumy, until you either render the e
pic
ene εὐΐατος sine qua
non to the fully fleshed-
out yin (陰) muy εὐίλατ
ος,
or at least make the εὐΐδρωτ
ος εὐΐερ
ος so that the whole
is, of neces
sity and
not of c
ont
rivance, as εὐ
ϊῶτις as, neque energum
enōs, it is, neque aemule,
one
iric.
So I’m klamüsern hie
r an den falschen Anklagen (puzzl
ing a
nent improper
inexplicable accusati
ons) d
ass (that) my
intent
is to
ridic
ule you, my intuitive reade
rs, snootily, secretly, subtly, and subve
rsively by dazzl
ing you with, a p
riori, some s
ort of
insanely novel worldview.
Oh, how appea
rances
so oft
can belie πλιχαστῐκᾱ́ ἀληθείᾱ!
F
or it has been and ever re
mains my per
manent promise and des
ire d’êt
re ton n’importe quel A
riane cousue de fi
l blanc, pixie ent
raîneuse de but en
blanc, exilé pilote des
inexplicables bas-f
ond
s moïques,
prolixe pie blanche e
t noir n’employant que du facond bagou, que du
spir
ituel, muy in-your-pasty-patsy’s-face
jaspinage po
ur f
rayer l
a route’s insane, i.e., equivocat
ory, all-woven, slender
mārga (मार्ग)
through the s
ingular
ly sane novel-world
in which my admittedly mult
icineplex, laby
rinth
ine SNE equates “oiseau bleu” (vo
ir § 100,
§ 106, and
§ 110) with
§ 42’s
insul
ar “labeur oiseu
x,” labile “PI” nec-plus-ultra
istic
ally sown on revelat
ory
soil mickle-
mackle-muckledly in
§ 8 with sp
ur-of-the-mo
ment “PI” ornithot
omised
so impres
sively
in § 94, the
Mistress of El
ision
s’s aimle
ss patchw
ork with the antic
ontology (
AO) of the
ontic anti
nomy (
OA) (cf.
§ 60 and
§ 106), and
so on,
such that, f
or inst
ance [blip lexique],
in vo
lume I, you unity-
lovers, wanly lenoc
inat
ing a u
nif
orm opsis out of the pe
rip
eteian noise sequestered
in the dia
noian quiete essentiali of my f
ar fr
om inutile, yùyùcōngcōng (鬱鬱蔥蔥) myth
os, were able to wr
ing a logica
l, inexpiable cath
ars
is from my s
assy, cl
assy ham
artia,
while
in vo
lume II, you untypical nexi beluini, muy yo-tu-el-
ist
icos Klimperer vom Texte (very I-thou-he-
ish t
inkle
rs of the text), unable
not to c
oax pliable cinematic μελῳδῐ́ᾱς out of the che
rubin-epical λέξει I used to express the
rather
rit
ornel
lo-swollen, very anamorphous anag
nor
isis of my mimet
ic silk-, moh
air-, nain
sook-, and molesk
in-clad nemeses, will have found yo
urselves (oh you sym
plexical inebrious fun
ambul
ists of the pe
rilous ph
rase who,
instead of r
isking yo
ur ow
n lovely swan-lorelei
ischen ne
cks, moil in such an all
uring
manner as to make yo
ur ad
oring pu
blic leap!) inexorably drawn to d
iscove
ring the schizogenou
s oar
isty
sian eth
os imbo
soming itself with
in the br
assy, hareb
rained hubr
is of splitting myself
into t
wo lonely NLA-version
s of myself (NLA
ins
inuating noth
ing more s
inister than “non-local avatar”), each
minus a certa
in cher
ished anat
omic silkine
ss natur
ally woven, norselled, and sneed only
into and by yo
ur t
ruly o
mnisufficient, o
mnisucc
incubo
us, nimble, calipexine (
sic), de
osursuminverted gynandromorphs able to, comme
moi, slickly re
assemble o
urselves once the pe
ril has
passed.
À
propos,
in th
is vol
ume, you (until I yield
ingly yell someth
ing like “Cut!”
or “It’s a w
rap!”) will be ever and a
non permitted to
assay how properly
I unite my “you” — lucullan and h
assock-, c
assock-, tus
sock-, bobby
sock-liminal — with yo
ur “m
y” — étui-y, luminous,
ludique — and vice-
versa.
No? Well, only be
ar in m
ind, reader, even as the lite
rary
mutiny you eulin
ostically plot with yo
ur inarticulate, albic
omi, sickly m
arplots from the Appalachian
Society of Se
rious
or Se
rial
or S
urreal
ist Novel
ists (
ASSN) gathe
rs subdolou
s, restive,
unruly, scelestic momentum, that it
is,
in tot
o, simply
NOT the case that the appa
rent imponde
rably h
orn-rim potentialitie
s of the pl
urilingual, m
ultiyoni, muy euf
órica, impertinent, promiscuously textual vi
sion I see equate nece
ssarily with
the overblown and high-f
lown only — several honed-to-a-f
are-thee-
well loony SNE-vari
ations, i.e., en séquence schizomythique plutôt que ch
ronologique,
will al
so be
arrayed f
or you t
o skim clitalytical
ly over, as well, nonc
onf
orm
ist,
nonsubm
issive, n
onbinary, n
onelab
orative, n
onjudgmental, n
onp
art
isan reade
r, as d
elve a slow lorn nyct
inastic
instrume
nt more pnictically
into.
A
s a sampler, m
oreover, of th
ings to come,
you, my lieu-uniting, ento
nnoir-temporalizing, coutume-
pliable, inexcogitatably m
indful reader of th
is alt
arianly sumptuous schizomythic n
arrative (
ASSN),
are
invited, en un
pourprin mot enseigné et enseignant, to e
ssay handsomely
in a manne
r all to
o simil
ar to how yo
ur late-
night we
arer
s of caps and sha
wls rely on a novelist’s
profes
sional lucub
rations to enl
umine (outil yuyer
o mismí
simo) thei
r amateur
ish
mala-ho
ral gloom,
the following com
pilation abrégée de quelques thèmes
potentiels we may
or may
not se
nimal
istically divastigate at f
ar less n
arrow levels anon:
• Ly
ing be
side l’étroit che
min on trepidatious top of an un
evenly sawn or lolly-poll
arded tree stump comme quelque fescen
nin trompe-l’œil there
may be a gl
ass hyaline do
ll’s eye worn Novalistically like a
glènis omphalikē (γλῆνις ὀμφαλῐκή) by my p
riv
aos-de-toda-espe
ranza-v
os-quien-tenés — aïe! — sexo-con-tus-lo
wly-sorellane-novatas-be
side-the-stre
am sis La
mia’s sweathe
art der Zukunft whom we’ve already encountered,
Nirusa, so that it
is not
impossible that yo
ur seized-by-the-lapel tête de t
urc’s
œil mutin y uyumayacak (yo
ur saisi-au-co
lbac-in-exile patsy’
s roving eye will
not be unaw
are there) how th
is piece of bu
ll’s-eye vlan won originally
in a child
ish g
ame of m
arbles bec
ame, becomes, and
is ever be(com)
ing la
cible explaining how, ensconced with
in, fixated u
pon, or nookie-nosed beneath th
is belly-butt
ony milieu, tu, y us
urpant comme en se
surinant
por dent
ro ob urinas genitalis some dee
p inner motion, sense quite eagerly the sh
orn, spread, and ready-for-ple
asuring slatte
rn’s lovely lean “wonton” empirically and
rather, sous t
on me
nton impreg
nable, explicitly be(com)
ing, as you
lick, moiste
r and
moister and
prominente
r and
prominenter moitié p
ar moit
ié — yum! — until your own sali
vary well soon enlards
le moment principal so lav
ishly that it becomes
impossible to tell whether it’s you who, insta
llé(e) now, sylvan orphan, e
n n’importe quelque
indéte
rminé pont de Lutèce, obse
rves a lowly lone nat
ural
ist watch
ing,
on the t
urbulent s
urface of the v
orgena
nnte, importunate,
rain-
swollen, very alondrée, ol
eose Seine, quantit
ies, see?, quaint, oeno
mania
cal, pixie-blennied, toujo
urs into
xicable plenitudes
of spent
prophylact
ics milk-of-
magnesi
amanfully sw
irl
ing past, the wh
istl
ing sw
allows’ envol y rendant g
râce g
ratia
amoris à tout et à tous,
or whether it’s you wh
o are the
one be
ing watched (
Ellery Snow Novalis,
Das allgemeine Brouillon: “Die ausdrückliche Unterscheidung, so nah hintereinander als möglich, dieser einzelnen Bewegungsmomente und ihrer Resultate
macht der mittelst des Auges Beobachtende.” Usw.);
• there may be a self-portrait of the artist comme une Jacqueminot prenante, a heterolexical, bipneumatic (ambispiritual) blossom slick-inked into the ukiyo-e my Inuit uluaq (soie satinée en un tournemain râblé, plié xincament) of an empyreal nib explicitly carves on Lowell-nystagmic, kilosampled, monogonont premises into the ivory-sallow enlentecimiento of these very pages since, als wie wir wollen, yes, Novalis also writes that “Der amplifizierte Gegenstand des Titels oder der amplifizierte Titel ist das Buch. Der Text des Buchs fangt mit der Erklärung des Titels an and so on” (op. cit.);
• and finally there, where the Proustian Oise enqueens herself atop, nostratim modo ponendo, the Benjaminian Havel, all rosy, new, ontologically noumenal (ON), ontonatatologically numinous (ON), and odonatologically numerous (ON), may be the presence of your absence which does not usurp mine noticeably at all, that is, that which is not mine presently to be either jocose or solemn in, to present itself sadly or joyously in the absence of your presence, is, at least on this occasion, mine to presently absent myself from and present myself to.
§ 135 | Prominent
How im
parsimoniously would
I swoon in her Xymen
opsical shrunk-eyed “c
linch-spray,” skeuomo
rphously “skein-calqued” to her
porp
oise-torqued c
ont
ort
ions o
f polyblent vascularity!
(T
erms delimited by means of “quotat
ion marks”
rec
ord the mytho
poiet
ical husky prose names we
invented f
or our
trala
titious romps in articulo ecst
asis or in pomusculo deliciarum.)
And with what adven
titi
ous raison impudique we’d both mar
vel — stably, con pfleglic
h presión y caulk-sellado
esmero — how in xynistamenostical
ly our chinks, asperities,
clefts, poly-Vanbrughian
niches, poly-Krausian Küssche’, polyrhythmic
antiphonies, and cosmo
poietic
interstices would
synch up so — like a relapsed rake and his
provocative wife — at the ha
rmonious apsis of our langu
orous
otiose equilibrium!
Even befo
re I — but do I
antic
ipate too much, my unca
lm read
er?
But do I
not have as much license to
antic
ipate las
porvenista
s “hopes a-lurkin’ cyni
c’lly vast” on bepflas
terte Dase
in’s cavern-walls of
be(com)ing as I do to
rew
ork in shy speculative
rev
isions par moults subtils parc
ours mon si pailleté dése
spoir ou mnasicacochyme souven
ir?
Mais
ren
trons à
nos mout
ons.
Even befo
re I’d been mad
e privy to the splishy-spla
shy renown, eximious bea
titude, and eut
ripsious moans of h
er ambit, h
er gambit, h
er so desid
erabiliss
imo, so insurpassable orb
it, O Eos of my megr
im-wine Nyx, shore of my b
ulky ship’s océan remué! — even befo
re, semel pr
o hymnis, we inexorably w
ere drawn, des
pite the conf
ines of my Chicken S
treet go
urbi qui me liarda
it tant,
into the
lubrique imita
ncy of vast, bellpersoned, met
asimious, pornocratic heta
iroto
pias
such as I polykernigly
recounted to h
er that I’d not only been
interned
in but had been
instrumental
in the
instauration th
ereof dur
ing not a few of my T
etrastic
instars, I could al
ready sens
e how minxy, resinous, Kalypso-enchrismed, and vison- o
r even bis
on-sinewy her moxie-
rich, oft maraî
chiné “pussy,” korallenrot und
marlenviolett, would be!
Not
since Lyra K’s houpa
čka-pliure, sonsy headstand, and midsumm
er-
night’s-d
ream lim
bsplay of vent-clearing
titter-tot
terativeness in Owlstai
n where I, iynx somorgujante, was w
ont to double-st
op ladite sauteuse like a w
ryneckish palo subduplo, had
I imbriqué luxu
rieusement myself
in such
powerfully tuhý-dlo
uhý silken corps-à-c
orps with a lu
scious Phryne kalyonic as she — průklepní
reta
blos, vtlačeny Pfiffzügen (cunning carbo
n-copyish Auserklone to so swan
kily push one’s caressive, car
inate, car
nal physis kucuremishly
into)!
E
ntre, ni mo
ins que
parmi nous, so it seemed, th
ere always inh
ered a, so to speak,
Boserupian osmosis so that with h
er dazzl
ing
mirthful Sy
rinx eyes — how omnipresentl
y in shock, pleasurably sl
it, tantalizingly evocative of that mythic age
when Rex Minos yoinked ces enfants aux yeux
perdus
in his fav
orite e
lven spot (cf. labyrinthus daedalus), and lucidly envis
ioning our dou
bly cloven, past-facing, as it w
ere, posit
ion
so surely — chinkapinnately shedd
ing, as only the most צַדִּיק (tsad
ík), nacreous, sylphlike hussy can, proe
fvol, spent, calybian tears, I sank my squ
ishy Klauen proscynetically
into h
er and
her own noix si émydoïde of
a horse-spunky clit
oris, in sum, apodeictically worked its
six horny “Now-I’m-eelworm
ing-myself-
into-you!” centime
ters
into me with such qu
antitative exac
titude that I was projected
into a deli
ciously shaken, prime
val, fynbos-plectendum
realm where I, moins onyx-parfumé(e) qu’
oryx hominisé en wa
ter chi
cken, Louÿs, Paris, hea
rt’s des
ire, musical skypho-nereides, es
meril ubiquista, and so many mo
re interesting
intersecting collecti
ons of c
hance, silky, Proust-
like, cyan spurs, hopefully, of mnem
onoclasis, that I could
not but therefo
re imagine, and
reimagine, that h
er own subjective ex
perience would have been at least as c
onc
innous as mi
ne.
So why, I’m inexorably led to ask, did she so
trimly, so smugly, so heavy-handedly mock my b
onny bounc
ing b
on m
ot, oiseau si beau et bleu de m
i translexicizaci
ón en
tres lenguas der
probacy-vollsten Pfeilschriften v
on our favo
rite nordrhe
inischen
ont
onatatologist?
§ 136 | Aetio-equineness
How inef
fably spent-cloverish would we b
oth be
sans tout d’aplom
b left, splay-convened
together there after our
showy in omni exertis exercita
tiones sui generis like a jumbled car
toma
ncy of blast-pelvi
c-euphorial skynsjáríðase
mi (raison souple de foutêtre)!
I seem
to recall a ram
shackle, prison-yucky cas
tle of blancs vypat
lanců i horse-pyskatých v
yprasků chosen light-heartedly by some u
gly tourte in Barcelona.
Husky prisoners
tombant
en énergum
ène, tu
tti-frutt
i pâmoison surrounded
us while we’d
be tautly groin-riding each
other there, but instead of
trying to be a ruly phronesis, a lucky, perfe
ctly blasé von-Pfeilischen Still
sitz oder irrfahrig
lose příčka y shuntant en
tout
e atara
xie in showy remontages
such as perikynoleptic
Lyra “begot inturge
scently” (B. Pavloff’s lucid express
ion)
in Owl
stain, sil
ent, insensible t
o any Geschlechts
sein outside our reciprocal sol
ipsism, our anogenital Bryotrunkenheit,
we,
on the
other hand, all pigletty-gi
gletty in our Barcelonish sparky uyume (有夢), were c
oaxed
into trying a “troublesho
oters’
orgy” in a “brutte-lanciate-sfide” sort of way such that we’d find ourselves, like a topsy-tur
vy “blest-clan” of Porp
hyrio nemonexi (swam
phens) à risky coulée in the
ir pycnous lek, shambolical
ly rutting ab ore rubeo y tirant glou
tonnement atque imbib
enti sensationally
our own heady j
uices, lanky hors-pair pair of
nubile oil-resplend
ent inseparable d
ream-lovers that we were, still are, and will forever be, our two festive pairs of
nénés per
çants y flub-plevening against each
other like
titubating pugilists and with that oft-hanky-pan
kied yūn-yīn (奫陰) bad kyrielles of zigouigo
ui-limber quidnuncs have made themselves all
too familiar with,
that zugzwangischly
tir-troublé yáng (陽) she called my, c
oining a neat double portemante
au, “berlingrotty ha
rlequim,” I buissonnantly peradventured
sans pudeur du
tout hither and yon, afore, athwart, and abaft of, t
o toiser la
titillante situat
ion comme un c
osmoursin pial
ey, her own μνιός ἰξύς (d
owny heroine’s mix of dazz
ling beauty, torrid thli
psis, choky lure, and swi
velly soft “banc pubique”).
“Im ril
ligen Verhältn
is der zotigen Weiber ist die wah
re Wonne,” my oxish inquis
itory great blundering U
ncle T. B. flaps voyeuristically his großes Aperç
u, rottenly barging into our ser
ene epic
ene
(though technically, since only, despite her hast
ate vig
our, I am in possession of te
stae spermathec
ae, our
joute assortative should more accurately be cl
assified as terc
ene)
“cyrkle-d
yrkle” shop causing me t
o ad interi
m realize that we’re n
ot there with my future favorite pane
nská locus, perihypsous Maori installat
ionist esuriently outgrabing in that for
aminious prost
íbulo in lerda Bar
celona, husky prisoner
s aswo
on all around
us on Carre
r Bailén, Gott Ryū (竜)!,
at all,
but all
too far from
la mer in crazy-qui
lt Lyons avec pbfistas (i.e., th
ose
as palpa
bly
fond of
purling a rote bythë as they are of
putting bleary orificia
fr
ontalia
to the sword) como,
in no particular order,
- 1
- that echt antigay art-critic guy Litarn;
- 2
- Trobe
r “El Tortuga” (by night an hebephilous snarky cad, by day a korephilous snaky cur, and vice-versa);
- 3
- Arnaut R., legit boy-toy scholar in spekulative soziophysiologie visiting from that most archifusc, polyvalent, b-faced of Flouziana’s instituts de hautes études, ISOCPHYS;
- 4
- ankle-ru
bbing D. Kidyaky, un bien-y-soit-œcuménisé-nec-plus-ultra sort of percussioniste in suo ogni aspetto despite his scratchy socks (un ¥ le pair);
- 5
- h
is phony Saul Rick;
- 6
- e
legant young Trilby-treacherous “playsink” (as testily seseado por ella misma) Bunny, a dykey kid I thoroughly enjoyed playing with the two or three times I did en énanthique compagnie snobinarde, soit ostensiblement de
6' c’t’autre tribaloungy gosse, plucky Inhart à poigne double, soit ostentatoirement de 6'' parlous spikey Chan, our own on-all-fours-pious moniale d’amours pionistiques;
- 7
- Ada Romer on whiny, existentialiste, sinuoso, Teslaphonic śukryazh (शुक्र्யாழ், a sort of samirious, saponaceous, slinky, harp-like, jangly tanbur or guitarra morisca she, plunky yet girly tour-band compinchera, lyssokubernetically fingered and shook with the most delirious pasmonadesque ebrium liquidum imaginable);
- 8
- her uncle or husband or father or something, flambeur-gritty Olantaros Romer, on his new ixyokinetic (loin-rollicking) wagtail-buttery organ;
- 9
- and was that surplus honky Eric sarcastically en train d’embrouiller, in between kyūkiye (急き江) binky-dandlings of 9' a feisty, pretty, busty, naughty girl, Bénatrou’s gribouillé niquage de iulique Rimbaud and ikibunky yeyeros otros there?
He was (il
était), they were (ils
étaient), we all were (
nous étions).
If s
o, then perhap
s it is naturally rather than
anacoluthically the case that, if
one’s
to believe, as
Dr. Ito Sezi says I should, that there’s even a smidgen of sings
ong reality turbidly lurking
(if there’s
one lexic
æt
iologi
cal phoresis, Unky T
ysin, our Speak Chloë–inspired
SNE’s cli
taly
ses, taken in t
oto, have incited
us with, it’s th
at little Ms.
Goby-Runt Reality links each, por supuesto, of her sub r
osa sinistrosi
ties so allurin
gly one brutta rima coll’altra, th
at the unwary
take thi
s abo
ulique imbric
ation de
touches néf
astes [
AINT to be the very fa
brique iluminado de la wirksa
m realidad misma, r
ather than,
as we soc
iophys
iologically gifted schizomytholog
ists trained t
o sniff out the objective altarian subjectivi
ties [OAS,
ontic
antinomies [
OAs,
ontic appropriat
ions [
OAs, apparit
ional obfuscat
ions [
AOs, and other M
ímir-blue quidam ingred
ients needed to fabricate the malig
n grout reality bedaubs her
antic
ontology [
AO with do,
recognize it for what they or
it truly are, Bon Guieu, or
is: the Augensche
in tissue of
antiphenomenal entelechies [
AE),
somewhere in the grandi
ose, toil
some, f
ucose (sparkly, hinchado), totally
sans rai
son, Harpy-like scuttlebu
tt, our bingy relâche à Lyon skips rumb
ust
iously, like the oft sat
irized stone-toss of less wit
ty, urbane, triglossolal
iou
s (au moins) priories of the
realm, between the more Gr
aeco-Slav
onic stat
ion
s of the bub
bly art-tour I engaged in with the
real Ms.
Nin whom sexy I erotically inspired as
no ordina
ire, whiny, monosex’d Muse avant m
oi — mās
quī muliebris
ibī mulier quae m
ascula est — ever could and who’d make even my l
atitud
inar
ian sister jeal
ous in sim —
À pro
p
os: si je fa
is l’effort de m’en tirer d
e l’oubli inrac
ontable (try urging your bitter labile angry tourtereau mné
socl
aste [sosie tout noyé dans
son do
volsty Blec’napf de mon
vblapf Oncle Tysin to s
top gaping and grow
ling at your trébuchements de m
émoire so Nyx-in-wheresoeverly appe
titively!), it definitely seems
to be
be(com)ing, since I must
insist, after all, that I have
not
inked any dybuky intent
into my p
otentially infi
nite SNE
(c
ontra
este infundio vertido por
estes
antipátic
os asses of the Tetrastic
Assn. of Novel
ists [
TAN), rather
not the case that I’d deem such a keleuthosch
izis or “detour” an impossibility at all
in similar circums
tances by vollpfropfend die Vollpf
osten mit den vorangegang
enen Ereign
issen.
§ 137 | Rain
Quel enn
ui! Paris’s monochr
omous rain, spinifer
ous rain, impossib
le rampant remous-livrée r
ain pours so implausibly, immutably, impartially, immoderately d
own on my heri (屁理) existence that it’s a veritab
le marv
el, marooned here as I am, that I haven’t tried already
to oiselate myself out the window of this, my unrequitedly
horny own sixième-éta
gian, very mottled, ofttim
es angrily frow
zy aire en amont de l’autopa
rodiante rue
Poulet’s rive marneuse.
Prof
use rain, den
se rain, ubiquito
us rain, poll
uted rain, ornery rain, va-chercher-ta-galou
bie rain, brantle-
trantled scaturient rain!
But perhaps “es ist wegen d
es,” to oiōnoscopically invoke Goethe’s goss
ipy rumba, “Regengehirns” I owe my exoneration from committing that rouge-et-no
ir-gory, self-annihilat
ory, self-ingratiating
whimsy one inexorably enterta
ins when, i.e., oxymoronically cooped up for days at a time in this milde
w-shiny room inexecrable, since, with c
opious rain smuggling itself in through
la fente inarticulable between the battants of the pis
soir-glary fenêtre and les
parois so munies de moisissure dass der farb
loser fraying t
apestry on Ovid-like themes is it
self an orgy irriguously changi
ng and slushily transmogrifying, the zl
ovonïy plaster dissolving beneath, the scrim rotting so that with not merely
mon balcon privé d’épinicies amoureuses, but the entire pro semitari
o moisi pan surrounding the swollen window-frame having become a tempest-toss’t jungle of human- and horseh
air strands, jasmine
tendrils, tracutate schede fradicie di umi
da scrittura, lentil s
prouts, mineral eva
porites, daily novenas manchadas
our sleazy Dr. Nilávano Bimkov of TBS used to prescribe us and which I continue to pen out of sheer habi
t despite our brangle with the wei
rdly zealous rain, les soutien-g
orges à fin lyrisme de countless young v
ixenish women, oryx horns, ewe-yonimithu
nīkāryan objets d’art, und so weiter, I can neither open the window, nor fully cl
ose it.
Oh, how chastely have I spent how many solitar
y moons in here? Wixiʔ (
“takzan” [沢山 in Irol
ingua, my pré-Bergeracinienne l
angue mère big Pyrrhocon
forian Momiji rants as sardonically as ever into my mind’s tinn
itonian ears at random moments such as this) — c’est-à-dire t
rois mois punais au moins, probablement vachement plus!
O verm
iparous, misnomered
mousson ripailleuse!
The (as triple-ripely put to me by
Drs. Rao, Pet, et Buni) “Dans le
Paris de Breton tu vas apprendre ce que veut dire ‘pleuvo
ir’!” my imagination parsed
by means of the Sa
turnian systematism of my Tetrastic innocence
consisted of nothing more than an afternoonishly accelerand
o simoun sparingly climaxing with a dash of vespera
l ame (雨) rinsing the cobblestones chicly slick or a modest morning mistral tempered with a refre
shing gōu (豪雨) that vrillerait bientôt en “bleu fouillis des claires étoiles” or at the most a s
nowy in ex mero shigure (時雨, chill autumnal drizzle) —
who would have
thought in sgravato (carefree) Owlstain when I answered, in response to the question
Dr. Peter S. Buni toasted me with whilst dealing a rubber of
Tradine Oru in the salle au fond of the
Dirna Route Café — “Is it true, Dominique, que tu vas partir bientôt pour
Paris?” “Oui, monsieur” — the homœotel
euta Dr. Norbis Pet attempted to tempt me with whilst trumping a trick of
Tradine Oru in the super
b Dirna Route’s “petting room” — “So, my dearest D. I., I’d heard it said you’ll soon break bread in
Paris?” “Oui, monsieur” — the interpellation
Dr. Benet T. Rao puissantly cajoled me with whilst picking up a skat of
Tradine Oru in the
Oneida Rut-Room of ditto — “So, our most i
mpure travelo is now going to
Paris?” “Oui, monsieur” — that the
purpureus genius coelis seldom lachry
mary I imagined I’d soon be pivot-prancing beneath would turn out to be
anything but a halcyon Na
rnian’s tsuyu (梅雨, h
armonious spiritual season of prunifero
us rain, rorifero
us rain, dulcifluo
us rain)?
Try a vilipeso donchisciott
ismo ruspanoico of a
monsoon raging wantonly for months at a time, rather, as if acri
monious Paris were an overflo
wing Rangoon, a mosqu
ito-graven Myla
pore, a stony livid C
ochin, a Tartarus incontinens entered all too unwarily
erringly, a Sofala-sur-la-piscato
ry-Seine — lakes, Pygmy
parrots, vile Numenius spp. wading in the gutters and coding to each other in their
whiny Morse, inexorable s
nakes, Gypsy erīlēs fīliae a
sking, “Please, yer yuvānaka mira
mérayani, zoen mijns kontje, asjeblieft!?” yet when you invite the seemingly ba
rmy eager being up to do precisely that her impishly se
rvile moue transposes into a subhu
man reviler’s pout and off she splashe
s again, grown nomothetically more wary perhaps yet still mock-can
vasing through the pervasi
ve rain, bewitchingly s
trong thighs vaulting over the fluxio
nary rigoles formidably sheathed in their cr
eepy-mugger rain-boots; eigenbrötlerisch I, meanwhile, all love
lorn, kizatanikushitsui (気障多肉質い), and spo
ngey like a spry seraphic kumquat dans la
triste boue and practically melting sous la
morne pluie, stravaig
back up to my
lorn aire, mon pas folich
on lair, my cri
b inebriately barren, mon
abri inéblouissablement perdu where, in the m
adid rain-ravaged
margins, a gown Ono-no-Komachiesquely would dip its billowing
inky Nara-ornate sleeve into the
lazar ink I notate this gushing account with, my forlorn-from-so-many-mar
oonings, worn amagutsu (雨靴) inclusas y inclus
os.
I étourdiment, to be prec
ise, to objec
tively disparonomasticate on th
ose otiose, toilsome, yet all too rare mornings when the sun like a t
imorous spaniel would cautiously lave the stru
ctural rent distantly sculpting the gloom with a ray of hope which was inevitably all too quickly quelled when the
radiant cur settled down again to doze through twenty-four more amorphous hours of bleak cr
anky rain, of disma
l pesky rain, geysers of rain, gushing diluvia
of rain, immortal
gyres of rain lacerating and lapidating and literally liquefying everything and anything and everywhere and not, by the way, in the good way —
I would in th
ose toiletlessly brief moments on th
ose toison-d’or-like rare mornings plummet willy-nilly down the cataract the skivvy t
ried vainly to sponge and mop and siphon up in the stairwell in order to ford the Chicken Street torrent below and purchase in no particular order at the Eu
xino-Erymine showten (商店) d’en face:
parsley; vino di Torgiano; self-rypteria
n depilatorios y vendajes; curds and
whey; onions; mixers such as sod
a, tonic, artharasakaṣāya (अर्थरसकषाय), and so on; p
oisson; rum; pain-
raisins; poumons de ch
èvre; баница (
banitsa, a bitterswee
t Odrysian olive pastry piled in ovolactic layers of ph
yllo, sirena, zadrugarskian sauerkraut, etc.); ever shrinking pota
toes; oignons verts;
pastis dharnāhitalakṣaṇa (high-qu
ality Pernod, vois-tu); Pontcha
rraud beets; topinam
bours de pretintaille; garlic; chillies;
okra; any ingredients at all that struck my fancy as being apt for the simmer
ing hash, gutvortreffli
ngvishṭ’ ragoût hebdomadaire including such
grains, for instance, as Hesperian ric
e (i.e., Oryza mnasea L.), lentils, millet, teff, und so weiter; Kampot p
epper; Indian clover; lamb b
rains; antil
ope liver; and pinchos
morunos (a ¡spiiiiiicy treat! I was unable to replicate in the confines of my Chicken Street studio and so I had to settle for the readymade version).
It was at the end of such occasional brief matitudinal lulls in the deluge when, with my harm
onious arms pieni di the foregoing, the assorted abs
tract lutins déracinés, var
i orfani, mômes de toutes espèces topped off by the most ridiculous
topes would loom out of the
universal tromperie and,
though starving, so it seemed, as well as sopping, tattered, and battered-looking,
disdain my offer of quodlibert
arian tea or tisane de bonhomie followed by what most likely would be a square
r meal than they’d’ve enjoyed in quite some while et ensuite bath where I’d be sure to, with my extensive working knowledge of the “harmonically composed [... beautiful Attitudes, and contrasted graceful Postures of the Body, and Parts thereof” (vid.
infra) ranging from the masculine-feminine to the feminine-mascul
ine, shower my noxious little d
oxies, my reinwohnlichen Strichmädeln with all the lessivatory bedazzlement their delectably m
oist oemotståndlige organis
ms’ perineal trouvailles were capable of
e finalmente al letto amor
oso where my innixion g
raziosa, duly lernita di Weaver (1721, vid.
infra), could not but not fail to, so to speak, “H
ex her Wye” in moins de temps qu’it’d take to coach the by now very c
ompliant, sur-vereinbare urchin to mimic, en suivant eg. op. cit. pp. 135–137, the desired actions on her own, viz.:
“[... from this graceful Position she sinks, her knees bending outwards, the Line of Innixion still continuing on the same left Foot: Just at the Conclusion of her Sinking, she transfers the Line of Innixion, by the Motion of her Body from the left to the right Foot; and then rises Perpendicular, still preserving the Weight on her right Foot [...
I need not inform you, that the Gracefulness of this Action arises from the Motion of transferring the Line of Innixion; to which a little turn of the Head towards the left Shoulder, is no small Addition.
The left Foot now being at liberty, and bearing slightly on the Floor, is ready to move; she then carries the left Foot obliquely forwards to the inclos’d fourth Position, her Body moving with it, and so transferring the Line of Innixion from the right to the left Foot; she then moves the right Foot circularly, at the same Time turning her Body a quarter Turn towards the left, and brings her Feet into the short second Position; the Weight of the Body also, as in Walking, transferred with it: The Weight being now on the right Foot, she sinks; transfers the Line of Innixion; and rises as before [...
This leads me to a farther Application of the foregoing Rules, to some of the fundamental Steps, and Movements in Dancing.
But, First, It will not be improper to explain, what Dancing is, and in what it consists.
Dancing is an elegant, and regular Movement, harmonically composed of beautiful Attitudes, and contrasted graceful Postures of the Body, and Parts thereof.”
No,
you need not
inform moi, a most graceful practitioner, indeed, of in
nixion who, yes, remembers, indeed,
for instance, how, whilst performing a select combination of the aforementioned “fundamental Steps, and Movements in Dancing” on a
certain dust-tralatitious and hitherto cloudless day in M
adrid, rain burst upon the postmeri
dian, arid, refulgent
maidan irradiant
so that as my suddenly sodde
n haori attached itself to my dazzling form like a bathing gopi’s clinging sari, a muddy flu
x ere I awningward could run, like an interminable asc
arid, drained out of my insuc
cated luisant ṛtrailiṅga (ऋत्रैलिङ्ग) so that, while my upper half took on the alluring appearance of said water-logged gopi,
my lower looked like some illut
atory devil posing in a rear-sp
lit anorak zingiberaceously parted to reveal quelqu’arch
i-forain môme’s bottom slick from those perilous peril
iminary gamineries that so charmed our favorite Siuslo-Cambrian sirenologist.
But alas, back here in Jeanne
dite “la Pucelle who-at-the-Stake-was-Bu
rnt” d’Arc’s Lutetia, the abundant, unpleasant, ineleg
ant rain spoils not m
erely — speaking sympathetically of which,
as,
spread out en triboulet like a freshly
waxen erigible yet all too desultor
y saurian doll zerlumpte und zerzauste in my futon that was once a majestic magical Huc
hown sixern I yeomanly plied up and down the most turbulent
mer lascive’s
littoral of love but is now the most ascetica
l marécagestical
otiose celibate solo lo
co, I’m reading
a dictionary of E
arly Anglais in conjunction with a thousand
rough nights’ vaticinal rereading of l’Armori
cain Médoire A
nglarès’ spiky eyewitnessing of a Beulah Bay d
ugong that shriveled up when its anadromous instar was mistakenly released into an environment more appropriate to its catadromous ditto or vice-versa,
and like some perverse Epipsychi
dion I’m recalling how
Trober’s putid anecdote
anent rif
fling a rosy recessum puellarem during the “despond
ent rainy s
eason” iterated itself
throughout the vagabo
ndry-lush Saint-Glin
gliny saralatā (सरलता)
of the Hesper
ian dim recollection of that aut
umn soir I apostroph
isai so promunctorily
when,
before proceeding on to v
arious spinomedullarily translim
inious romps avec quelque amou
rette du Bois prancing about all sylphlike and such there where specular m
irettes abound profusely and glistening re
inettes, proud arboreal fruits, look on whilst some other
soubrette Pindaresquely playing the ranti
pole devi in pancrati
astical rut trendily begins to serve me a bock and a bowl of frites,
I stood in multicon
trast lucid entrancement before that shopfront aquarium-by-pr
oxy where insomniac trundlers attired i
n sivodïy proletarian coveralls étaient
en train, tout en
œuvrant les imprimeuses, de me regarder à travers le verre
I
sit harsh- and a
brupt- and stereoiracundly up in my damp and not in the good way futon and repe
nt slushily grandiloquent since I humbly agnize
and sourly realize that perhaps I’d all too soon dismissed as being too trai
dor, lazy, unrealistic, même, that kind of plu
mp ravenous literary Innerlichkeit that smartly
entrains an imp
atoïant character’s truant dilly-dallyings into a
parsimonious ad nut
um revelation springing from the epiphany that, for instance,
just as the Agn
odice rain maieutically extracted that
menstruation-rain embarrassment in de pronto ph
ocine Madrid
and the Montca
lm rain staunchly besieged me with the
catamenia-rain obstinance of the seas
ide maricón-
dream iconically indexing
Alinor to
Norlia in the “serão inqui
eto” as I entrancingly metamorphosed amidst
antediluvian xipho
surans, tiny cn
idarian dracunculi, brazen brach
yurans, instable stingrays, stray sel
achian artotrogids, and so on
in the cryptog
amian brine on wave- and windbu
rnt Isla Miranda whilst my furf
uranny sister Lamia was off cavorting with that jewel in the crown of the island’s aqu
amarine nobility,
Nirusa,
and the
Oedipus
Rex rain roistingly awh
irr inexorably instilled that
menses-rain état obvie which, when whether by fate, chance, or simple
error I anxiously found myself wandering in that V
aranasian Tertio Regno to the north of Pl
açatina Hortensia, led me to that
cloven-priaped inebriated Porlock
ian devil-sport yodelingly taking a break from besmirching le trottoir with h
is Nura who accosted me with something along the lines of, “Excusez moi, meussieudame, mais j’aimable
ment vous prie — ralentissez-vous vos pas, s’il vous plaît, et tire moi un petit va
vain de clope, princesse!”
—
alas, the abundant, unpleasant, ineleg
ant rain spoils not m
erely, speaking syllogistically enough, the floor, the bed, the stage on which to dance — the aberrant, repellant, incess
ant rain sabotages even the
invitation to dance!
And yet, since my fl
oor’s a spuminigerous
morass inopium frustorum cruentorum and vulp
ine sexy I who’m normally the world’s deepest, dampest, ripest, plumpest, flippest, hippest, steepest, sharpest, crispest, and dare I say, chea
pest lay, void (ironically enough in this dull cold season of gu
sty rain unstintingly pouring down sauf in th
ose otidimorphic matinal moments when, speared by the mi
sty sun, rainbows bleed briefly above the phoen
ix-new earth)
a repulsive mort-né(e)
menstrue most (and quite in contrast to the headily perfumed unction exuded by your menarchical nymph)
monstrous —
how could it have come about that a sopping pile of disj
ointed bras perturbatively drifted in through the window like so many windblown sycomore leaves?
And furthermore I ask —
pask, si grêle y è, n’y a plus de pain cu
it dans ce turlâtre b
oxon — where’s my inimitable
pale Pedro, invincible scaphanderer of my nether Sp
hynx’s moonier weirdnesses?
Could not he, like an
ivory-tailed spongobiotic h
oney-nix, swim rheophilically up even the swiftest of outlea
rnt Lutetia’s cardoon-choked rigoles?
And then, like a cotylesto
me, poilu, transverteb
rative polynoid, shilly-shally himself up le cataracte d’escalier and straight into my fim
briate pond’s uteropro
static délurant ravin?
Alas, even sthenola
biate Pedro turns tail quand il hume mon venimeux état!
§ 138 | Sloimčik
Such supersaturated circumstances forced me, thus, — since smug
Mère
Soréa, spunky child self-indulgently b
linking its turquoise-and-amb
er, almond-shaped sp
hinx-eyes (minor wonders in themselves) in the empasmed valley of her pl
ump soins, arointed off (leaving but an “En Attente du Beau Temps” sign affixed to the door of her beauty parlor) to some halc
yon Erehwon’s mixité balnéaire where one imagines our paroc
hial spunky sorcerer submitting to
Helios’ cyan Skrupellosigkeit in h
is Hat
hor-silky, anse-cupping swim-t
runks, cosily heaping hot sand on h
is Qe
seshy pink oracular poumons isiaques, and determining, thus, by means of th
is “avuncul
isius paronomasticus” (sic), t
he slinky rapscoundrel’s true paternity — to contract the services in person, as it were, of that type specimen of a species of ind
istinct and, given the cl
ownishy morne exiguity of its genita
lia, by now m
ost
likely exti
nct slavey — obpflichtgetreu, obpf
lichtbewusst, obfleg
lich, obpf
lichteifrig und obpflegeleicht — whom we have encountered so often before en bluster-balustered and berunnelled e
scalier, on husky palier inondé, in the submerged entrée de
l’immeuble même (vid.
supra).
I found our bidda
ble muriqui inhabiting, not a mild
ewy nixish room en haut comme moi, ma
is rather, au deuxième, a
lackey’s prison-hutch, a f
lunky’s apish recoin, a crum
bly closet van Pfiffikustically cluttered with the br
icoleur’s hanky-spanky fo
urbi limé quinaudement
par son Oui-M’sieur-th
is-et-sa-Oui-
M’dame-that hackerel-cacke
rel malarkeyish conspurcation of it during the
otiose mimicry of a va
cant sly “po-veb” flunky’s chores: lapidescent
mops, sour inaidable sponges, corrupt dustpans, battered buckets, balding b
rooms, whiny inexécutables v
ilebreq
uins, chokey sarpliers, clunky asphodel-root glue called ῥίζοφύρον (rhizop
hyron) one mixes with v
arious pnismotic substances such as sand or sawdust or the fluffy mou
lts of blanc vypelichané sovy (freshly moulted barn owl) to stop
up chinks, re-lay sordid t
iles, unsqu
eak sploshy incrusted crea
ky planches souris blanches have made their nests under, und so weiter — all of which impedimenta th
is product of, according to Styf
fclent Blavy’s opus on the topic, that “popul
ist migration out of v
illages [which are so oppressive to the human spirit and so
otiose as a form of socio-political organ
isation” lugged up the stairs in order to scrape and shave and drill and drain and sand and repaint and stopper up and regrease the c
ranky sluices hopelessly ajar which the battants of my fenêtre had become.
Alas! H
is ressemblance to my beloved Huerta-Fukarian stacker (see
§ 68) was not merely doubly, but triply belied since, not only was he cowed at first by all the harum-scar
um libri quietly awaiting the scholar’s assiduous caress (as we’ve described elsewhere [
§ 31), and cowed in turn by the perfumed A
bfall coy spent voluptuously splayed bras had constructed at the sodden foot of the uncl
oseable fenêtre where the jas
mine Whyos inexorably imbricated their foliated acts of floral thuggery — “All these
spunky cholis are, euh, the b
are chunky spoils de v
os conquêtes?” he
parsimoniously asked as he meticulously yet obstupefactively set about h
is task — but, furthermore, h
is seemingly sug
oi, ostensibly prehens
ile ta
il turned out to be utterly p
ostiche, the stub it masked all too
otiose and useless for the sort of punctil
ious “romp in satisfaction” of “services rendered” I had had in mind to have in bodily store f
or him, onyx wine seriatim slopped into the greedy goblet I proffered him to no avail whatsoever.
And so,
alors, our little
Mr. Least-Said Soonest-
Mended se fait tôt descendre
tot el seu bombriliu equipament — emerge
ncy bof-vats, pelles à poussière, sur
ly rakish ponceuses, b
úho-slinky scrapers, larc
eny-worn moxie-shivs, poncy felt balais, Zpe
vnyt’s colle, abpflückte
toise ouvrante, sui gener
is mops — au noir comblé de la petite cha
mbre qui lui incombe après bien avoir réparé mes joints et mes gouttes, bien sûr, mais sans m’en avoir goûté(e) jusqu’à
l’inimi
table — fsplnvy! — comble des plus inégalables de mes points de repère.
§ 139 | I’m so...
Soon after
mis vinos elaborados de las
puras ominosis cepas de esperanza
quoad the tool-b
oxy minion were short-shrifted, I fell back — oh, I cannot hide anything from you, my cu
rious tomboyish neighbor on the right! — in
a raging swoon on my librinundated, so to speak, futon (布団) where so many erstwhile sup
erlative romps unspooled for your aural delectation!
What salac
ious moans, primal eructations from
groaning maws, onomatopoeic spawn of self-so
wn orexis, honey-mirrored d
ream-latrative injucundities you’d have ear-witnessed, reluctant peeper into my soliloq
uist room, if you’d stood on the landing
là, dehors de ma porte entrouverte, and let your eer
ie ankka-somatic
mopsi blend its har
monious airs pugnaciously with my own howling!
A
real man would not have let all that good étréha
mais vino sleigovitch slosh senselessly in his porc
ine stomach sa
ns, voilà, miser sur la belle charnière ou
au moins, por si acaso, been tempted to mingle-mangle
our moistly palpitant hobby-horsical a
natomies so antimetaphysically together!
And a
real mannish Laplandish woman comme vous could have so easily, even at the
lame risk of “inappropriate contact,” consoled — with but a
prompt word, ostiarily delivered, as it were, from the safety of the hallway’s bo
wsprit: “Porto, Dominique?” — a solitary sufferer comme moi!
But, alas, you, shunning the ailing lucidity of my insurpassable desirability, you, my circumspect
voisin(e), slammed heartlessly shut the door on this dazzling libricity, this
otiose waste of bibliolagnic writhings interpaginatively, supraspinally, flyleafishly within and against all that marvelous, oh so delectable, yet utterly fatuou
s impotent
Littérature, and retired with your
impossible little
rakki naamosekasikeo naamioitu (heavy-breathing, black-jawed, teraz
oa-maské Kaninkötergspaane [sic) into the
parsimonious Finnitude of your own chambre de glace!
I’m so horny! Wine excites me most ludib
rious! I’m so pantophorically ama
torious! Mais cette grande beuver
ie soothes me not!
(An empty bottle chastely thuds against the far wall.)
And yo
u, Miss Parrot-Lady on the left, little Miss Sa
tori Mouse ever “enlightening” your neighbors via your pet psittacid with those empty apophthegms coined by the sort of derivative
morons wan aging Ophelias like yourself so smugly fall for — “Youth to itself rebels, though none else” — such crack
pot words’ importunity galls — “Youth to itself rebels, though none else” — (the bottle, retrieved, shatters against the opposite wall) — and your sacrosa
nct music, Jovinianly prodigal heretofore, my scintillant baptism silences most laetificant!
(A second, or third, or fourth bottle is, with a
trim “pop!”, stood wriggle-wrenchedly atop the ebullient scholar’s overloaded desk.)
I fear the contagious blastments of su
spirious Mona C
oltrane’s pure viminalis ca
usa is in promontorial danger of crashing headlong into the street, the river, the sea and infecting the entire immeuble, if not le quartier tout court!
(A liberal sweep of the arm sends the latest issue of the
Journal of Sociophysiology, containing the aforesaid author’s “Causality as contagion,” crashing headlong [sic to the floor.)
I must get out, get laid, get laid out, out of the spot the snot the thew-shot waxy cautelous danger of — (in the slit-eyed silence of the audience, the imbibulatorial deglutition of a
ballon de rouge is clearly audible, as is the satiated downstroke of a
verre vidé) — the unca
lm pesanteur — virosa (po
isonous) impartial mover, supernal meretric
ious prison-master! — of my own bulky desire!
I’m so pendulously pulchritudinous!
(The beast stands and displays for inspection its complex and complicatedly engorged anatomy. Question: Why do[es the author[s, whoever t/s/he/y may be, compare this anatomy to a “prison-master”? Bonus question: What sort [class, kind, species, variety... of trope is the author, when making this c
omparison, using?)
Dear Sist
er Lamia!
I must oro—
I must posar r—
I most nea—
I most prod trow p—
I must conviñjč—
(It is said that “Virtue itself scopes not calumnious strokes!” — “Virtue itself scopes not calumnious strokes!” — “Virtue itself scopes not calumnious strokes!” — end parenthesis.
C
alm reader ensconced in your gente
el armchair, you may recall at this point in your c
alm reading of these fra
ntic “jism convulsions,” the poigna
nt cosmic injuvenilitate c
ompassion, urig
inous porismaticity, and sub
junct misconviciousness with which, in order to ensure that a fellow sufferer pre-accompa
ny her nixie, Ms. Woolf had Master S
eptimus rave, lorn and scr
ewy, in his room next door to an
otiose party before he
so impulsively prefigured the defenestral d
oom Sirin’s au-pied-du-mur scacch
ino (masterito d’échecs) eventually discovered to be the inimitable nec-plus-ultra defense.
And so, when the newly planed, sanded, and repainted wings (battants) de la porte fenêtre (french window), like backlit clouds parting to reveal an ex grati
a moon, swing organically open on their freshly oiled hinges, and a waft of rain-blended jasmine perfumes the musky-cl
ose toilsomeness of the m
oite souillée soûlerie, we know that you are already, o che vane
sio sap!, mourning à l’avance your fa
vorite superlamnioid
mnésolâtre privum ingenium conditioque singularis’s vigoro
so (impetuous) demise.
But lo! as the mis(e)-à-l’éc
art (repulsive) monster sallies forth onto the late-afternoon balcony, the ἀγαθο
ποιός sun, a mirrored spear of polished copper, breaches the intercostals of the western sky, slips into the tender pale space between dove-gray rooftops and slate-gray clouds, and pierces all the way through to our maudl
in hero’s wine-, oxymel-, and antill
ais rum-poisoned bladder, knocking it back with a blow more salvific even than a pair of sun
shiny women exoriating into the room, snaring the animal with a stray choli redolent of
various pert melnganu (blackish) pot
pourris, mastodesmos embalmed with spunk, brassiere reeking of asafoetida, astringent sostén, etc., and dragging it back from the would-be suicide-
victim’s conjunction of low railing, high plunge, free fall, sidewalk.
Aka no kami-sekkei, sama no ehō (赤の上夕景, 狭間の恵方), as my old-fashioned littoralist of a mother would have said.
§ 140 | M
O lu
minous Paris! O nu
minous Paris! O ful
minous soir parcouru grâce à cet acu
minous, por si acaso, u
rinous pisa! O moli
minous Paris opulent with the plu
ranimous positivistic polyphony of que
rimonious sparrows, h
armonious Spinus s
pinus, amorosi can
arini o so sumptuously frolicking after the abste
mious rain-sopped
stupor in ὀσμαῖς (fetid lethargy) of the a fortior
i mousson parisien‘s quadrage
simous noir apathique (apathetic gl
oom)! In aurīs splendent their ἀγά
παι-orisons multa
nimous! O Paris so equa
nimous, Paris opalescent after the incessant
rain — soumis, polychr
onious, prismatic, and gl
orious, más pintado con azul y oro, por fin, que con gris y se
pia — rosinous, magna
nimous Paris! O deliciously
somnious, riparian, o so Pisum sativ
um, Pisonia rosalis–fresh, inters
omnious Paris!
For to wake on a
s pious a morning as this — after having slept off the self-wrought d
oom I insurpassably, per proprio σπλάγχνον sibill
ino mio, surpassed! — and realize with such exultant terr
or, nimious spasmous pironian (piercing) joy that one is not an ex
animous prosiopesis,
somnus pro miasma, soupir inondé par le Styx, or c
orpus moins ait quid delectabilis que delicti, but is still, encore et toujours!, a delectably pulsating, k
imono-suspirant (just look a’ ye at that bl
oomin’, suspiratative, lovey-doveyish b
osom a-risin’ up ’n’ down, up ’n’ down!), ex natu
ra ipsius, monoec
ious, sirop-mangeant(e),
marsouin-poised h
ouri, an impossible to defile, dazzlingly desirable, uncurtailable run-on of lust, lucidity, voz inter
ior, passion, multiplicity, recollection, and whatever other epithets I choose t
o, a, suprision myself with so to speak.
For is this, was this, will this be the day I first —? — nein, nicht zuerst! — For, yes, this will be, this was, this is the very day into which
Ms. Noäu so piripiri to hairu (ぴりぴりと入る, (will) quiveringly enter) what had heretofore in retrospect been
ma souris-pionardée, schla
ss au porno, imitation d’une vie!
Yet shall I, should I, did I, do
I mourn as poisonable, defenestrable, etceterable self-annihilators ratés would?
Shall I, should I, did I, do I stay in bed and be
moan suspiriously, repetitively, the chance vision gleaned between the patulous dusky thighs of rooftop and cloud of that rosy bright “arrow-slit” (
akarui sōpi no sama, 明るい相陽の狭間) of southwestern sky free finally of the orgul
ous rain’s importunate chastity belt that sent a full-bladdered drunkard reeling back into the
room in a piss-urgent dash out the door and into le petit cabinet sur palier?
Staggering back into my
room in a suspirious moan-spiral of increasing del
irium as soponciado as if I actually were spinning like an asthe
nopirious samara out the window and down, down, down, onto, not the hard rain-slick trottoir but rather the soft dank futon where, in the rando
m noir, I pass out fully clothed?
No!
Instead, as I eclose out of bed like a throbbing libellule splitting asunder the lut
arious mons piaculis of its spent naiad all glistening and lu
sorious in amphibiotic splendor, I wonder at the thoroughly drenched, practically
sanious, improv
iso, rapinous marvelousness of the,
primo, inassouvi, secundo, indéfini, et tertio, infin
i mousson parisien’s provident end being as abruptly punctual as its κακόδ
ρομος (inauspicious) start — late afternoon of the spring equinox and winter solstice, respectively.
Donc, after defecating, bathing, and inserting a fresh pessary, I exchange soiled
hitoe (単衣, plain under-k
imono), piss-raunchy
dōnuki (胴抜), and hopelessly wrinkled
kosode for a fresh trio of ditto, loosely drape le tout with a nobly-flowered vernal h
aori, spin musophagastically with joy, then slipping on a pair of soft spring p
umps, I soar noiselessly out the door and down the staircase (its windows finally unlocked and flung open to let the w
arm sun’s opioidergic virility spear away the d
amp sous-noiride fœtor ex pedibus uvidis!) which a heretofore never-before-seen hunch-backed edaph
osurian is mopping and aerating.
Just outside the front door, who should freshly winged and rediviv
us I — oops! — ram into but that very anandr
ous prosimian lackey who
ran so impiously away f
rom (so sui inapprehensibly to boot — as if I were a scary old horse-faced
daišō-wielding
samuraï poissonneux and not the svelte yet bathycol
pous nomaširigaru futa
nari σῠμπόσῐώ πλεκτάνῐκώ [bibulously wanton, convivially tentacled androgyne que je suis!) the ch
arms I unpoisonously offered.
“V’là!,” he excla
ims in a poor subhu
man risus oiopolus (solitary jest) that only serves to betray his really rather stu
porous, simian, all t
oo simian surprise, “notre exqui
s minou prosaïque s’est pas culbuté!”
“Bah
ouais, mon spirituel,” I reply, “v
oisin! Par où smonto io le vostre attese? We
discriminous prosateurs, we, if you will,
ignominious prosateurs, c’est-à-dire,
nous impairs ouvreurs du texte ne
mourions pas illico, incognito, itou”
(I indicate the pecul
iar moisson putride he and his
petite horde of fellow green-suited ordurophiles du quartier, to the tune of a l
imp arioso sung gratia tur
pis in a sour, molendi
narious, impossible key, are busy rifling the pockets and fingering the orifices of before gaffing, raking, winnowing, and forking, soit back into the gutter to be swept down to the Seine, soit into their
charrettes to be carted off to the holocaust; to wit, the battered and bloated post-diluvial carnage of sundry self-felled despondents who were not, alas, as I so happily was, saved in extre
mis par un oisonneux organe urinaire’s needier-than-th
ou spasm ironically coinciding with a crepuscular v
ision’s amour-propriesque brin d’e
spoir)
“à nos imulis dejectionibus; c’est-à-dire, à ces ni
ais, sun-poor, impatient buffoon
s parmi nous, oilily glistening in the papill
onious prismaticity diapha
nous Paris moirés, in her pantoda
poi-moria sun-shot with heartless splendor, their heavy-handed self-inflicted
termini a sopor’ ustulato with —
mais, pour soins non
moins soupirants que détachés, je divague.”
And divague I did! Strolling through their guttersnipe persiflage in search of an invigorating cinn
amonous spirit, b
oisson à primula and syngene
sious rampion florets, aphrod
isian rum, spoonwort-infused hypocras, anything to disperse the lingering
brouillard intérieur with the sc
opious air’s mnesoclastic liquid clarity — for all of le ch
ou Paris (moins such labo
rious misopande
mosian spuriosities such as he and his) is a
fête foraine!
And so up Chicken Street
I, as Orion-sumptuous and Arte
mis-in-saporous-chastity-stealthy as any hunter could be after such an unbearably
parsimonious ninety days of dernier bes
oin-soupirs, amble foveately past that gang of heckling scavengers and up towards La Pétillante Butte through the gardyl
oo ruins as impres
sions pour imagistically together in a welling flow of gorgon
ian porous simultaneity such that the whole c
aprinous somiglianza of clear blue transalpine sky and K
āśī-poison muriniparous smoke, of vernal carnival and hivernal car
rion, is a mopus box of entangled chronologies and blended recollections à l’avance of fouteries past and to be which only the gri
m spinous aoristic tense of an unknown divine syntax could, and I quote, “reconcile and describe:” —
For the wondrously wanton
W I recall is a
ussi a poor minced poli
sson ripou amidst whose splayed abat
is ominous parrots cavort
in amorous psittac
ious pairs, monst
rous imps noialtri pensatori di pensieri ast
rusi sponiamo (explain) as being but the quasi-
simious proanthropoid viridian-feathered avatars of la voy
ou Ms. R’s opiniâtre jalousie of all those delic
ious romps — anisog
amous, spirointerflu
ous, posimarinous, opsinirmalous! — we had in Owlstain of yore with the likes of not only the aforesaid but also, judging by the lay of desire recollected in exuberance,
jubilantly bejeweled dange
rous maison-piquée-inhabiting
J of the juicily bedewed jaw; naughty not
orious N, a simpleton of the senses who was nevertheless a polyvalent practitioner of the venereal arts; agathokakological
K, a slinky thinker, like us, of slinky thoughts; the ever adventu
rous imp A, insolent, barb
arous, imposingly
amorous; inspissant fasc
inous aposmritiphatic
F; and, let us never forget, sinuous salac
ious S, an important t
opos marinus intercalated within the set of all the other (vid. supra) to
poi our sans minaudant se
nimarious sport
D narrates their exile
in Paris so mouth-wateringly
umai (うまい, poisson-rich and tasty) with when forced to fall back on their own devices to attend to the laterit
ious sap morning’s pale light inevitably shows to be already thoroughly soaking through the t
ampon’s risio unguinosus (unctuous derision) and starting to breach, thus, their under-k
imono’s spuria custodia (false sense of security),
such that, like honey-eyed Persephone out taking an expurgat
orious spin amidst all this country-cousinish conf
usion, M is parodically pareidolic of the dre
am I spun so iroppoishly often during that quarter year of stu
prous animosity and abste
mious aspro nichil
ismo as inpouringly
secco as it was pouringly
bagnato outside that I realize that
I’m, ipso sano rutilat
uro poisin, as much a desirably d
iasporous inmate of her oneirophane as she, like a propit
ious omnisparkling vedette of adventit
ious porn, is a — mais
“Bon j
our, monsi—!” I passably call out to the gri
soir as I unpompously dash into, for the nonce, Le Re
posoir Mis à Nu and, enfoncing sur le coin du zinc entre deux buveurs en bon b
iais mon Proust,
mon Oui, sapristi! by Lo
uisa Spiro, mon Simoun par Isora Suši, Pio Monterr
oso’s Manipurica
Soporis Manium Oso Aius Princ
ipia, mon Roussel, naturally, as well as The Book of Heteropl
asious Minor Prose Poe
ms par Ion Isouard and the indefatigable Grec
o-Roman sui spissitudinis
Glossarium inopinabilis, plunge down the stairs en direction des
waters, singing out, “Café-calva, s’il vous plait!” as I pass.
§ 141 | ON
To be flung so disquietously
soon (ipsum arietate) after changing
one’s entrammelingly blood-mottled t
aruno (垂野) — impossibly enchyma
tous and preteribly failing to stem
one’s own bitu
minous sporianthous gurges — into the all-to
o abrupt interseductive exigencies and psychomot
or-adept intersubjective sine quibus
non of the aethio
psolite-and-ivory, cream-and-crim
son eternal polych
ronious impassi
oned širin-flux of desire and flirtati
on, is
not a
n option, reader, bustled into lightly by even the most
earnest nominee to the hands-
on post of
seductibilis seducendum.
For though the c
opious rain smugly had stopped, the r
aw raging monsoon of my menorrhagia most smudgily had
not.
And so,
upon blandly vesting my trep
anner-scary, torturer-tyrannous catamenia in robes of pu
rest Aenonan cott
on, t
hence toiling my way out from the Hadean
zooglœe chiottesque, I did
not, unlike the ic
onic desideratum of a
n ordinary
novel (
ON) put out by a
n ordinary
novelist (
ON), complacently and immediat
ely spot (voir, indagabilmente scoprire), in the figure of she — in
opina Miss Roucou
lade! lean nobly lim
b’d sun-lovely Pandora! — who was si
rotant a curry-ensp
icèd amniorrheic ποτήριον of steaming chai with an elbow propped
on the counter next to my hef
ty, virile, and posolutely li
aisonous, impressively delectable tower of b
ooks, a grand Perseph
one’s entrancingly splend
id concupiscence.
Instead — O perturbed spirit! O
misjunct convivium! — i
nstead, I put obreros normales (
ON) of our polysy
nochal, incisal, heteroc
rinous field noticeably to shame by seeking to sublevate my impe
rious pasión minuciosa, my polypto
ton-intermi
nable polyšvundtsvaŋ (Polyschwundzwang), my lab
orious impansable besoin textuel — c’est-à-dire, I cracked open, whilst quaffing, primo, café, secundo, calvados, gradus, calepin, bouquin, commanded “Un autre café-calva, s’il vous plaît!” and as I uncapped and began scribbling
en marge avec my gold
en nib, a Maori-Ca
talan, bondad-beseem
ly diosa von perito venustati (of expert beauty) was (my
[ab]normal hypersensitivity to such things naturally rendering any judgment to the gend
armous opiniâtre’s contrary null and
void) openly staring at me in
a manner I obiter noticed peripherally to be most uncom
mon, brazen even.
I saw that her smooth tawny flirta
tious sinewously mobile mirabile-dict
u-strident bare popliteals and hamstri
ngs (un otro reca
tado enólogo we’ve met before,
Eric Modiano, would also have gla
nced admiringly à cette gigoteuse sompt
uosité singulière) glistened between patent leather–swathed gast
rocnemii (adorably adaptable adventurous dancer’s calves!) and anacr
eontic hem of a tight-fitting long-sleeved cotill
ion-suit seasonably sporting a
lazuli-and-rose rythmologie e
n fleur, dionisiacamente tessuto
into, rather than printed
onto, the very fabric it
self in un droit-fil bien cousu dans l’étoffe même (alpaca and silk, it seemed) and yet still,
in a morso ipsummet (solipsistic sting) of graph
omanic dérive, I was unable to lift my eyes and direct my focal v
isión a su prometedor, thoroughly transpa
rent, sane, omni
ramous poisin (gancho, encanto, hechizo, chulada!).
I heard her “
Moi aussi” pronounced sotto voce to a synem
porion I assumed must be (for could a being as intoxicating as she be
alone on purpose?) some
one other than my own engouemen
t-prone raide (stubborn) manneq
uin-self droning
on in — O zo
etrope-burnt diaske
uasis! O omnipre
valent pordiosyirante señorita! — the margin
s anent erotic stimuli so motu pr
oprio unmissably sociophysiological percolating out of a nearby consommatrice (c’est-à-dire,
her) that hithert
o normally my amphidiabo
lo’d be as bandant(e) as mes lourdes règles were henceforth rendering any potential ambigam
bol débandant(e) as she “réglé la consommation” and I sensed a complex perfume emanating from her, matching in its ecdysi
ast-blended anabolic douce-aigreur
not
only the fragrant chai, but also the cornflower, mānuka, Cli
toria, peony, D’Silva’s Hibiscus rufib
arba, and koali awa blossoms represented
on the aforementi
oned outer sheath, while a musky und
ertone sandalwoodishly hinted at the sepi
a-dark balanophilous p
liancies, ancho chunche, estr
echa chilla (sinónima a zorro jaspeado), and other gymnoc
orpous animistic marvels seething beneath and yet still, like a subhistr
ionic dream-spawned sch
oliast in very doppelsinnig, doppelzüngig, doppelgängig circumstances and eng
ulfed, sino rinc
onado (cornered) in their own boo
rish oneir
oscape, I continued stitching interli
neal scholia in chisel-like, kuro
aona (黒青な)–blended stabs of my
pert rude nib as totip
otent in matters textually profane as it was imp
otent in matters sexually divi
ne into the books I continued staring down at,
on, into, and through to the styg
ian ryōkan (量感) des chiottes below.
I heard her, as she set down her empty yet still incorromp
u amnion, enounce in a cooing sigh, “
No sé, si no leo,” and yet still I remained, to your amazement — for surely
you never shy away from such unanticipated acts of provocative exteroce
ption, reader! — stubb
ornly pavid(e), stoic, and committed to my hopelessly obsessive heterotextual task which, obeying my
cosy instinct to do so, I continued to do so atop the first derequisiti
oned table and — absurd
abrupt tense dioristic of preteritive regret! — it is with a
swooning groan amplified by the hollow aridity of my
now very
unom
niparous simoon-wan room’s gaingivingish text-foolery that I mise
randously realize that this
zealously and irrepressibl
y solid native Proserpine whose Ruble
v’s blue and Polynesi
an rose–entangled enticements I, in the anœs
trous ranty encrassé cat
amenic ridotto from my more typically
unstoic syntonic tumescent symph
ony of appetency, was simply still too de
filed, sour, innommablement abject with my own filth to give full ho
nors to ungrudgingly is the same conj
ointly avid Proserpina I loved so tychistically in the
dream I incoherently recounted in
§ 81 that I’d had a week or so before the gew
gaw monsoon ingravidated me with a trimestral lochiorrh
agian moon-grown sanious promiscuity of au
stere onanism!
O gib
bous reader — pint-, tankard-, jorum-, and chalice-swilling
reader! — in but spotlessly complacent
ON only is a supuṣpa-and-hibiscu
s-patterned brouill
amini so Proustianly ripe, so dove-plumagedly cymoph
anous, so primitively prosodian,
dénoué à mon univoque gré such that the hero(ine) (c’est-à-dire,
moi) stops whatever it is he, she, they, or we may be doing and quicktime(s) out the door of the café, chasing down and catching up with she who disappeared out that same door after pausing to give us a fetchingly come-hither glance back and — at the precise spot where half a year earlier la jeune autoch
tone en ras-le-b
onb
on derided me, her eyes wet with mockery though h
er tone sang out dry and dea
dpan, “Touriste ébrieuse!” — lightly tapping her
on the shoulder, sings
out ardent-bespiritedly, “
Moi aussi, Πορνοδιδάσκαλη, je
te connais copieusement dans mes rêves, comme dans les tiens,
tu as brodé printempestivement moi!” and our d
ienoic drama is at last l
ent an osé résultat, and off go the reunited twai
n of us in delirious accord, twirling, swirling, dancing together down sun-shot Chicken Street and past jealo
us Pedro in a bretterstegsgreifbaren fit of dismay at finding le Café des
Dos Péru in a Bretterstegswirrwarr of mud and duckboards; past la petite horde of gaping éboueurs; past
zany Dr. Soréa, illust
rious mapōšin (魔法神), bac
chanalic Helios-noeticist, luggage-handler for the
nonce, returning from his c
ongé méridi
onal en famille; past, as she’s unlocking her Friseurmaga
zin, Lady Soréa lurching her bosomy bulk vainly against the stuck, rain-swollen door; past l’Enfa
nt Soréa idly pivoting and turning between and around the two (for it could stand sans aide
on its own hind legs now) and up the stairs to my place where, en faisant la poup
oune à mon unisexe fille, she is revealed to thereup
on possess une magnifique fouf
oune omninautique tout à fait faite à
mon aune, un oigne à dondon psychagogique c
onstruit exactement à ma mesure!
A song, a labial bunnyhu
g, a labionasal glottopharyngeal warbling, a scroto-v
aginal asobaseijiri (遊ばせ弄り), a vagin
o-anal gabisa (画微差) and
so on in sloe-eyed, slow-motion, glistening close-up c
onducing ineluctably to a reciprocally dolorogaudibundian cla
rion spasm — ouillouillouille! — of such feve
rish onoma
topoeia — cninščia! — that — never mind, never mind.
That should have been the sequel guarante
ed not to disap
point, reader, but something — have I menti
oned my me
norrhagia? that it’s still raging after three m
onths of m
onso
on? that, owing to the soi-disant “procedures” the learn
ed nosologists, particularly those of a soi-ge
sond gynopedanderastic bent, whether acting in c
oncert (those
arrant not
orious imps animating our weekly
tontine in the sinis
ter Dirna Route’s backroom in Owlstain,
Drs. Rao, Pet, et Buni, for instance, in §§
72,
85, and
137, or the good Drs.
P and — O vile story indecentl
y told (a prevision or several of which was or were granted in §§
75,
79,
90,
96, and
100)! —
R, a spent tribe dourly trying to salvage their spurious reputat
ion, nominally at least, as “
toolsy divine part
ouzards in really difficult cases,” as well as Drs. C and D, c
rank Yoniarianists to whom I owe a certain amat
orian ankyl
osis I’m unaporetically still
on tobikiri (とびきり) occas
ion noticeably and v
ividly prone to as I’ve also recounted in
§ 79), in sequence (with typically the subsequent trying and failing to unwreak what the precedent had successfully wrought; for instance, the aforementi
oned Dr. N. Soréa lazily undertaking the temporo-clit
oral integrative
ail-ronification of the
orinalgia inflicted
on or in me in Appa
lachia in chosen lieux hétaïrogogiques by the
noted Aloéthia, a
Norlianist of tu
rbid repute as noted in §§
34,
35,
43,
45,
50,
51,
53,
55,
62,
63,
67,
90,
100,
107,
112,
113,
120,
125, and
131), or independently (Dr. A
vílano’s “pedority principle” as limned, for instance, in §§
49,
55,
90, and
137, by which “a pedagogy based o
n just civic nomothetic practice as practiced here at TBS is always playfully and child-like (παιδικός) put into play over adults’ supposed power (authority), rather than the more comm
on reverse, which from our perspective is perverse;” likewise, the
nota
bene Dr. Tartis poutingly pr
onounced in §§
3,
83,
90,
93,
111,
112,
122,
132, and
136), invariably find it incumbent up
on themselves to subject me to if par m
alchance, nihil ostentando, I happen to fall into their clutches, I’m fain loath to c
onsult a member of that species, especially for a c
onditi
on which
no doubt will clear up in the xe
non-pale orotund light of the full m
oon in a c
osy, vernal, dioptica
lly azure sora indōtokuteki (空淫道徳的)?
I have?
Well, something — some
daimonic renegade, some devi
ous imp raisonneur, s
ome bra inanita (empty
bra’d) anokālavidvas (अनोकालविद्वस्) — came al
ong to provoke me to do what
no ON (ordin
ary novelist), I’d posit, would,
in, on, over,
or anent, essentially, his or her own
ON (ordin
ary novel) do: — sit pit-a-pat down at the first available table in a crowded café-bar-tabac or bustling bar-tabac-café or teeming tabac-bar-café or populous café-tabac-bar or well-attended bar-café-tabac (tabac-café-bar being a combina
tion observed but
once, in a desolate bar
rio de Lyon, St. Pavin, I think it’s called [Ce n’est pas un quartier ly
onnais; ce “picot-gargote,” comme on l’appelle, en fait,
est un bar de tripotage au décor rip
ou (sleazy air) — NDLR.]) and c
ontinue working,
not
on a
n ordinar
y bland novel supplied with a simp
le, lean, and orthologically g
ogo-spank dramatic arc, but
on a translexically spri
ngy SNE pan-Dodonian
in scope, action, plot, modulati
on, poetics, rhetoric, and what
not, pan-Athenian in its auto-pa
rodiant, superb, textually promiscuous reach, recounting how,
on this first day of sun after three m
onths of c
opious rain smearing la vie Parisienne all over with a depressi
on-inducing sludge, my mut
ilated yin’s provoc
ative dropsy inlocked my encrims
oned yang’s ponde
rous amnis opificis anguium (drag
ons of creative outflow) in a squ
aimous prison of ce
rasinous impotence, and rather than
nolens-
volendably unspool their tentacular tumescence to meet and embrace and reciprocally engage my adr
oit avid only Perseph
one’s co-anticiptory cruna transeunda in an act of, in a wo
rd, penetratio subversa à la that never-to-be-forgot, double-kn
ot pose in Lyra (vid.
§ 127), they limply hung there like an ab
ominous pair, shrunk
en and gynospodiacally deformed, of woebeg
one near stumps — and I, her gyn
androus bête triple de mère, was unable, when offered the chance, even t
o dance mirifically with my own e
rrant, anody
ne, rose-, tan-, a
zure-, and royal silk-, wool-, and e
bony-pulsed, Lanvin-ensheathed daughter!
By the way, the kind of lingering p
ain a Tartis or a Nestorian âne iatraleptique like Bimkov inflict(s) owes as much to the insip
id constant lur
id cong
a-train art-noise (a mix of
stentorian aria and aeolian tarant
ara), as internationally acclaimed members of the
Aristonean iatrarchy, that accompanies the mere mention of their names, as it does to their working methods.
§ 142 | Novels? Really now!
E
ven before the inc
isus, poor animalculus has stopped quivering,
See Law i
s already, like a cheerfu
l corypheus, asking, “
Any griser la bête plans in
store, D. I.,” zibeline-swishily and baleen-shriekily striding out from behind the fürchte
rlischy skeuopane, “for your upcoming d
arling year’s worth of y
asumi [riposo — NDLR] — not anything too
scrunkly, I hope?”
“As,” I
reply, scious nakhodnik (находник) by now of the apparent paradox that the punctilious lab worker need definitely
not be afraid of expounding unverifi
ably or uttering hypothetical unkno
wns, “you most, Dr.
Law, seemlily must know, I’ve been
trying to labeurer (I roll le mot flouziane between teeth, tongue, and lips like a river-polished pebble) a work of poe
sy, auch prose, linking,
in a lucky —”
“Prose?” she
pounces rakishly on the word as she lights a Pyro
phyre Siuslokan c
igarro, blunt yet long-lasting. “Did you
say, uh, prose?” Clinking her
storied Zippo shut and inhaling
huskily, “¿Prose? Can you — with all your A
suran-like psychophysical nous, kerygmatic k
nack — seriously, phlegmatically, be saying that you’re thinking of trying to write, like a comm
on cracker-bar
rel Sassenach or picky uptight ta
cky Hun, prose?”
“As I literally was tr
ying to tell you if you’d let me finish my sagacio
us coy phrase — linking, in a gumsh
oe-sharp lucky insight into how wan
ton reality — grubby, gritt
y, involucrati
ously prankish, ecumeni
cally fob-spent, vora
ciously sphenarkic, soral, spunky, heads
trong reality — ubiquit
ous sino, impara
ble turra, y ting — O, what magic
al earrings you’re w
earing! As lyrical as
La Regina Syriaca’
s!” Reaching up — pour ne pas
oublier l’instant fatal — to sli
nkily caress — houppettement, tendrement — the hoop of rouge-tac
hé onyx sewn miroitantement through her right ea
rlobe, tiny tragus bead wieder
gebt in royal turquoise, and golden helix-skewer with my sinis
trous downy smugly appraisive f
ingers, a laryngeal “Ya sɨrree!” explodes from her throat.
“It’s a dereli
ct spy novel, fablia
u coarsely pink!” She snatches my hand away with a free claw (the other emphatically pist
ol-crushes a pinky-
sized ortiga-fumed cylinder of smolder
ing yerba tortulada) and like a cruel moth
er toying brutally with a recreant child, jerks it forward and down, displa
ying its dor
sal erubescencies to me like Ha
šek-horsy inculpatory evidence, as if the sight of
my own noirish, execrably inflamed fingernails was or were entirely unfamiliar to me.
A propos: Have you ever had the experience where
in your dim thoughts, m
urky shapes clonically ensconced at the back of your skull, suddenly
synch up like soaring starlings and leap forward in a coherent group and imprint themselves distinctly
on the back of your closed eyelids, up
on opening which the palpebral fresco is seen to have come vividly to life right in fr
ont of you?
Perhaps we’ll have a chance to delve into the intricacies and ramifications of this
sensation further.
Meanwhile:
“Sin tint
ín y pega,” she continues, “sin til
ín y duda, ik ken by your
kiby, inky, and duyên vô digits, that you’
re saturninely penning it by hand and, comme il f
aut, your plush, plundered, implausi
ble, fancy plot svilup
pa così [her sulky nares flaring to expel the luc
ernal grayish fumes of atrabi
liary anger, she releases my bruised, delicate, and e
ven, compared to h
er brutal toying mauler, demurely teeny-we
eny wrist]:
L
ittle B., our angry, fo
xy, winsome hero(ine), was
never a stella
r beauty nor glitter-girlishly gl
amorous in spite of the p
ains her plucky solicitous antit
ypous Schrankleib of a madre took in the matter of her toiletta
ge, but nary Troilus was ever — and perhaps e
ven owing to that very fa
ct — by so vlan, pflegeleicht, madca
p, nobly fast, clever, et cum jub
ilo phunky a Cressida serviced.
[Comme une
nouille ribaude dans la bouche d’une
lubrique imitatrice, the string of kō
širami unspools from she, who, like a self-possessed sco
rpion — aï! — so smugly snubbed my plu
mp, osorašii, unconventional, st
rīpuṃsan, osiowy (axial) display of flirting, diverting, sporting, cavorting, spurting, and squi
rting utero-labyrinthi
ne boy-girl uttarakāmākhyatant
ra!]
S/he plunks coyishly along in that educational mar
vel TBS, fancy polyl
ingual torre, by the grace of Bimkov, de privi
legio y truant Brüderlichkeit in an otherwise down-and-o
ut barrio; gently matures to adulthood on a dus
ky ochre isla’s unpleasant ro
cky shores; in a pluridisciplinar
y institute of psychophysical research in the capital s/he is offered the unprecedented chance to be the advisee of a mentor whose erudi
te urbanity, glorious generosit
y, intellec
tual rigor, y entbehrungsreiche niñez is known far and wide; and then, during a summer internship at an institute run by a worker in the field who is tr
uly giant, Trober, a shocking ep
iphany rocks elusively and ineluc
tably our grit-enhanced subject’s hitherto straightforward voyage towards a promising career in the exact sciences,
sending him, her, or them careening off into the brambly byways of that hodgepodge of spu
rious misopantol
ogy, blunt terra incognizance, corru
pt vocables, fynchecock’t minaude
rie à la Grynsztejn, false a
nalogy, brute triumphalism, received op
inion, rhyme-, sex-, word-, and
horseplay, sick undinismal advocates of ‘critical t
heory,’ ex-wino minstrels of the m
undane, biky diky young-Trilby teraphimists, and other scr
ewy nonsense known as ‘Bi-Dialectic(al) Therapy’ (BDT) where the ‘insti
nct-plays’ of Lev Berg’s Analyrical Theatre (Aналирический Театр, Théâtre Analyrique) meet the indisti
nct ‘love-play’ B. F. Skinner posited, following the ‘Principles of Sth
enotranseroti
cs’ by Pavl Teflonnikov, as the ‘(in)
tangibly true origin of p
ersonality’ (op. cit.).
Our subje
ct B’s novel, playfully profound, eye- and orifice-opening experience of internship with renowned
Trober, an ugly titanic beast of a nympho
lept, fancy slob violently virile, inspires them, in short, to attem
pt a sly novel- (cf. BDT’s ‘Real Phantasy Principle’) within-a-novel such that, in the inner ‘conce
pt novel,’ scaly B. F. Skinner, Trober, Yours
Truly, et boring al. are
resoundingly pilloried, while at the same time they (i.e., our
own hero[ine]) is myxomycetically able to, in the outer ‘perce
pt novel,’ fly basculating off to lu
minous Paris, out of sight but never out of mind of all th
ose respectable, well-meaning, seemingly benig
n, yet inevitably harmful peers and elders whom our auth
or selfishly continues to bem
oan, resent, decr
y, infamize, and vilif
y endlessly from the pseudonymous safety of t
heir own Isonym Exiled, as the work will of necessit
y intituled be.”
§ 143 | Inexplicable
E
ven as I’m lower
ing my contumac
ious main prosexig
ène to jo
in its (e
ven as I’m sigh
ing out a perfunct
ory grunt) bilateral mate
in the time-honored and -sensitive task of unstrapp
ing the not-yet-rig
id bendy yukky animal from its r
avelly BPF-constra
ints before the m
eaty blunt rigor mortis sets
in, I already fe
el my cheeks blush
ing as if naz
aritely burnt, gouged, and
pinched by the čertov
ska (unholy) precision of her fl
ushly on précis — kaleidosco
pic, nu
minous, prosatorially audacious as the work-
in-prog. its
elf — of my altric
ious roman spic
ilège.
Yet at the same time (en même temps), there’s someth
ing so Badroulbado
urly out, Apulei
anishly sour, Pecksniffily
off, Zolastically sclé
rosé anent her characterization of what she attributes my motivations for writ
ing to be, that I simply must, like a l
ayu ulu, protest.
“
But,” I try orangely rebutting orally whatever it is she meant by
pink, “you’re schlass comme un gogo b
ouilli! Bernée comme une jobarde
lubri —” “¿I’m equivocatament ubriaca?” she butts
in as
per her wont. “¿Es esto (is that) the sort of narážka fa
lschka you’re inspirando yours
elf with these days with your nim
iny-pim
iny bandy kyūdekina
nonoširi (hexy mewl
ings)?”
“¡¿
Nonoširi (罵り)?! Why, exempli gratia, would you dis
miss —” “Poor inauda
x whiny noisome resentf
ul ¡PUTA! Your incessant protestations are st
arting to buy relatively fewer and fewer adherents to your, no matter what you might mist
hink, prosy cause. Look at
our girl Betty ang
elically pos
ing her cal
lip
ygian utterly robust s
elf over there — [she directs her gaze all googly-eyed and wis
py at our ulu-wielding dissectatr
ix whom I renonçai à y faire la cour d
epuis cet humi
liant après-midi en la playa which, des
pite her and his and their feigned
indifference to the crim
son eternal oneir
ophane’s silky crural crux humm
ing and hiv
ing with
in my
inf
ernalis agrypn
ophane’s risky cul-de-sac, I’d enf
in (as you [not you s
ingular b
ut you plural] will already have s
een for yours
elf
in § 10 and passim) be able to one day make (faire), thanks to my but
yrous Pelikan’s chrisma
l nib, luire ostensiblement dans les pages de mon
roman] — Oui, pisse-froid, e
ven s
he scorns a puky lingšu of the sort you tried to pull!”
Im
pelled by the force of an arcane motivational s
alience utterly
alien to the un
initiated, the protract
ile expansion of the e
pistemologi
cal negative space of their reciprocally locked g
lances occurs so rapidly that I’m com
pelled, before it all too dangerously bursts, to
lance it with a quick review of the aforementioned seaside sc
ene portrayed
in § 10, viz.:
That vague “game (of) dr
ink” (令酒); that, more s
pecifically, ra
ndy yakyūken-bid I failed to woo her and her
Pierre with
involved, not immediately parry
ing her thumb with my
index, for
instance, or his p
inkie with my thumb, for example — for that would have entailed the antic
limactic absurdity of all too promptly and perfunctorily depriv
ing the one of his sand-choked moule-bite, the other of her salt-encrusted maillot — and then where what who would we be (have been)?
Just a conquer
ing, still-undémailloté(e) e
pic
ene surrounded by the une
ventf
ul gritty bare Nordic nudity of two goose-fleshy, curds-and-
whey minions exorbitantly shiver
ing on the ves
pert
ine
littoral.
No. What I suggested was return
ing to our respective abodes and there showering away the sand, sweat, and sunburn, and changing
into our respective ethno-vocational f
inery (trajes de casta, mises de métier):
He
into his
poncy hussar-like dress p
urples — shako, cynipid g
orget, burly antique umbril (iiliskot
in nokka he called it — the famous “trickster’s beak” sported by none other than the top-st
roke spicy uhlans of the Ostrobothnian empire!),
plonky cuirasse, herr
ingbone hose, r
uby-dyed kinky nainsook d
oublet, tarryingly turgid cod
piece, etc,;
she
into her
frēnulī oblīquī muliebris (s
inuous woma
nly vest), fop-cabled k
irtle, buoyant grèg
ues, Cyprian kohlschwarzer souque
nille, ribould
ingueries, fripailleries, accoutrebr
inguettes, fanfreluchements de toutes sortes;
me
into my merry mock m
aiko’s sylph-encruppered
jūnihitoe (twelve-layered get-up).
The
nce allegretto they’d return
in their gold
en calèche chez moi whe
nce lambently I’d direct them to the
clean, comfortable, well-padded and -stocked space I’d rented for the oc
casion.
Keys purl handsomely
in their res
pective
shiny locks. A purer, more desirable, more sm
ugly ornate, tribadically more judicious (благоразу
мный), swoonier exhibition gynandromorphique of “la
pierre d’attente
libre qui, imum atque summum, servira à
initier aux ébats doux ceux qui veulent s’y adonner” could not be imag
ined.
By a kind kyūyū I’d been taught not only the quirky rules of the game (that, for
instance, s
lug, tiny brote rastrero of a p
inky, undid a key, by all accounts, repti
lian predator, namely snake or foref
inger, amuses me to this day) but also the fla
shy perilous knack for stand
ing whilst wait
ing, so as to ke
ep your nap slick, sheer, and shim
mery.
“Nixies who nocturnally prowl, must not their c
rispy clean shokufu befoul,” as on
e popu
lar saying reliabl
y put our laud
ably engirt tour d
e pass
e-passe.
And a
hoy sinks la crépuscule. Rakish pony-mounted lamp
lighters
linger, f
lirt,
pass on. Richly eukinetic g
eckos apishly run about on their sp
oke-splashy runcinate feet.
Tachyz
oite blurry gnats swarm, furry moths flutter, bumb
ling bats swoop, and I, framed by my bungalow’s lamp
lit door, rea
lize they’ve ditched me.
S
ince stradd
ling ein Fahrrad or e
ven sitt
ing sidesaddle athwart une draisienne
in a k
imono’s a spurious proposition for e
ven the ad
eptest of ma
ikos, shapely uncreased moi proceeds to clip-clop through the dark
in my
hinure (classy) pokkuri (品熟れ木履).
Now, on the bus
tling Bay Route (Ruta Baia)
link
ing, utterly boardwalkishly b
ut gently, Barrio Ilena with La Machucha Vecha (Old Town)
in a dense, mercant
ile, divers
e port cit
y like ours, chaps naturally take an
interest
in a lov
ely lo
ne elegantly arrayed recently eclosed third-
instar
futanari intacta comme moi clogg
ing along the pavement.
So the glorious luscious vivacious yet unpretent
ious romp I sangu
inely engi
neered for just the three of us, turned
into a rather more multif
arious omnispecta
cular pyknose histrionique which you (not you s
ingular b
ut you plural, preferably) would have had to have s
een, or better yet, partaken
in, of, atop, around, and b
eneath, to be
lieve.
Speak
ing of which, I be
lieve their furu
ncular Skyphoseinsmoment (two-handled moment of be
ing) is now thoroughly deflated. Proceed!
“But that’s just gobbledygoo
k,” I reply sans chouchouterie, “s
ince the feeling’s m
utual! Your pet over there’s m
ushiken-play’s coruscat
ingly bad as her breath’s ouau-
ouauly putrid! Here’s what I have to say to that s
urly puta ou putain-l
à: Put your lūsus where
your planche is, skank — aro
int th
ee!”
(No transtextually astute reader will fail to catch the al
lusion.)
Chary skept
ical husky Pernoscitr
ix Pernoscendae (our exam
inatr
ix who will be exam
ined) rolls her eyes and
into her gaping maw poised to s
pew another
insult, I quickly stuff the follow
ing:
“And thirdly, such a c
omparison is unacceptable! Is it not rather the case that, pe
rhaps, you liken scholastic frauds such as the
alien ‘
insti
nct-plays’ of Lev Berg or the defu
nct ‘love-play’ B. F. Sk
inner engaged
in with that fu
bsy con Pavl Teflonnikov or that sournois s
alarié Grynstejn’s therapanderastic charlatanry to the recently
insta
uré ISOCPHYS, knallhart
ILE, and l
inch
pin CACA — that en
light
enedly tricked-o
ut trilogy Bernard Vighdan and his flouncy-bou
ncy, pure, Salish-Koot
enay yin-buddy, Kiko Devi, founded
in Owlst
ain elatedly and
elastically
in cahoots with the other four members of their
never-enn
uyed kinky band — iynx-moiré, showy, enigmatic — of “polylexical
exiles” — Ama
racus-slinky Hope Flam
ingo, burly Tartessian
Tony “Le Brut Rigaudonneur” Hamiltonian, Fatima de “De
Bulimi” Queiros (after her monograph on same), and Mike
Turbo, genial tryster — because you’re jealous of the year I spent with, sans
any scruples, hikōkenjate
kina psychose, lurid catechumeni
cal nervosité ou hystérie at all, and sans, naturally,
any guilt, Trober in —”
“Enough!” she grotesquely gro
ans huskily, “Proceed!”
And e
ven as she’s storm
ing back to her scutiferou
s skeuophylan circuit-board with a c
lick of her Zippo and a superci
lious
grunt, Reality obstreperously dips her
greedy digits, I rea
lize,
into the schizomyt
hical prose kyū (笈) snugg
ling and purr
ing aga
inst my leg here
in my much less acri
monious Parisian
exile,
and pulls
out a tingly berry-bright
mot to the effect that, yes,
I’m able to query,
in fi
ne — clarify,
peut-être, même — that the year I s
pent
in Gertrude must have b
een before I started work
ing
in that Scal
iger-nutty laboratory
in inadver
tent ugly Barrio Ilena? before also my metamorphic excursion to, no matter how provisio
nal, cette
île miserab
ile perdita
in the most
inf
elicitous quadrant of the Tanoan Sea?
Which just goes to prove my po
int: E
ven the fantasti
cally best of NV* papers, for
insta
nce, lamentably can’t do what’s commonly done (as we’ve s
een [op. cit. passim]) by e
ven the most
ine
pt novels — fly back and forth and up and down and sideways
in time,
in space,
in dream,
in life.
§ 144 | Œnyutuyliium
E
ven as I’m abandoning l’abattu-par-écla
ir opossum (Animalculus didelphimorphicus necatus fulgure L.) into the predatory clutches of Catam
ena’s entortil
atory ulu — punctil
iously sharp, knecht
isch, epulary, konsekrierte tool of dissectatrices the world over — I call out to the ghostly puff of smoke p
ushy Señora Pickle-Up-Her-Butt screens her retreat with:
“It’s not o
nly such prose kairōmata of the sort you’ve just been subject to in the preceding chapter that I’m working on — I’m also composing re
nku-rich poesy as lyrical-spoken, shuruihōfu (種類豊富), and downright delightful as it is comical, parodic, burles
que!” “¡Burl —! ¿Imii (意味い)?
I hear la palabra interrogatively drawn out like a cornered
baying turtle or pischy snake louring and hissing behind a rock. Then, her goggled-eyed grimace popping out from the side of the instrument pane — “¡¿
Po-e-sí-a?!” Clunky, shril
l, husky, coarse, ping
uid, and kinky, by Yenakha!
The four syllables grate in her mouth as if they classified, not a diverse ta
xon wherein my soignés ouvrages will one day find themselves happily, like a polymo
rphous slinky acerbically witty gaggle of t
oney whores, mixing and mingling with such inca
ntatory glib erudite forms of imaginative literature as, for instance,
Manyōshū (万葉集) and
Cilappatikāram (சிலப்பதிகாரம்), or, for example,
Metamorphoses and
Tehilim (תְהִלִּים), or, e.g.,
Les Fleurs de Lamia and
Gerbaudes (
Sheaves of Grain), but rather une espèce d’huileux écoulements
crachés (oily spunk spat out) by a marauding band of diabo
likous scary Nephilim. “¡¿Qué?!” Burilando la palabra into its sull
en velum, the goggle head extends further out from its shell. “¿Por qué?”
“¿Por qué?”,
I reply sans chokusetsu na no o nigenakute (直接なのを逃げなくて), com
me ma
mère dirait — that is, without even bothering to avoid being direct. “Porque the least
clunky prose is habitually w
ritten by lo guardado lado de (por the orderly side of) p
oetry!” I blurt angrily out, cleanly severing skull from st
em with the well-ai
med and -ti
med crib of Fr. Nietzsche’s celebrated apophthegm from
La Gaya Scienza, § 92 — “Man schreibt nur im
Angesichte der Poesie gute
Prosa!” — since hulky L
ady Kenkyūin, by Dionysus’ larch!, pikes
me into setting something straight between us, to wit:
Though our
whiny noisome xerophth
ongal bitter ryūkōokurena sensei (流行遅れな先生), formerly a s
exy winsome rhinoglottophilous tra
nscopal ryūkeisha (流刑者), was first of that sm
ug litany Trober,
smug itinerant pederas
terator in bulgy plus-fours, enumerated in his
nonerast encom
iorum passiona
lium qui ebriant (op. cit.),
he was far from being
hers (see the
First Pod of the present opus,
passim); likewise, despite the year I spent n
otably in Gertrude as
his sturdy steady randy dandy broo
dy bendy kyūkai ningyo, I later turbulently enjoyed more high-ene
rgy, serial anthological occasions of sociophysiological delectation w
here minxy swooning combinations of three or five or se
ven or e
ven nine whores mix your dr
inks, slap your cheeks, clasp your hindqu
arter until — By gol
ly, Regina! As right a
s rain, Lyra! Get it on, Beryl! Guara
chea, spunky Rosilia! À cor et à cri, à dem
i rassoupi, Monique, mi lúbrica
puta! (Your luxur
ious romps animated by lusc
ious moans priapog
enously spark chime
rical physoneksuous amniospiritual beings like myself into assuming their most virile si
ngularity! Trober, that
smug tiresome scel
erate nonsuperero
gatory blunt reiterator in ugly burles
que libri umidi [op. cit.], was merely a heavy-jowled hopelessl
y enervated perhaps e
ven utterl
y [entièrement] imp
otent girly arbuscula in spoke-rhythmic and -rhymed c
omparison, I submit, to the bountifu
l nutty arbore gigante bruto lyrico ac
liberum I quintessentiall
y en d’autres termes was, am, and will be with —
where’m I, onyx-insoumi
s[e], saphir-lucky, nobly taut ignorer of grammatical and temporal con
ventions, going with this divasti
gation? Truly ebrious [as minor poet Vas
ili Rimbuque urged that we must always needs be] am I! End parent
hesis.) Pluck on, Raymo
nde! Binky, Yuki! Daybreak’s ap
proachin’, sulky Esclepia! Ssh, your knickers are knackered and t
hanks, precious Ylena! — than e
ven your most undiscriminatin
g roué, tyrant, libe
rtine, or gay Bluthund is able to engage in with, e
ven over the course of a lifeti
me and whether for lov
e or money, six whinnying l
ittle ruby-organed sla
ves.
Fact: Nobly pleom
orphic sneaky lusty sma
rt young liberated tas
ty torular beings like
our shapely skin-cradlers cited
supra, are, in effect, communal practitioners of the most exquisitely invigoratin
g torture, ably inflicting their dazzlingly shive
ry serial gang-felicities with such permutat
ional buttery grace, knurly sophisticated juxtapositional
kyūdeki, and yin-by-yang polyrhythmic in
venti
veness that th
ey necessaril
y entretenir th
emselves as the supre
mest ἀοιδαί, unsurpassablest enchantresses, superbissimae vātēs whose
slinky opus arches its collective cam
brure at toyingly sharp uncōs like this, such that the otherw
ise slouchy prank of our fr
isky prose launches its fi
ssile chunky aporia, it
s spunky heroic alleluia into the lusc
ious omnipräsent (allgegenwär
tig) muscular cream
y entre-
cuisse ankylophricticall
y enduit et engagé to receive it en passe-partou
t façon, by spell-vinc
tus gimbalry, in götteruferlosem Zauber
spruch, in ślokayena maghena (श्लोकयेन मघेन), or in whatever manner t
heir minxy swoon eigenwill
ig must have it.
I do be
lieve, nec nosce t
empus, that my use of the accusative plural, rather than the ablative ditto, of
uncus, more poetically evokes the part
icular sposhy Knebe
lei (tog
glery, buttonairish leverage) of those vin
cular Skyphoseinsmo
mente when the
pars longa glandis of one’s dorso-caudal
membri virilis is literally hooked into the, to coin a term,
“pussy,” anchor-like and caninousl
y aided by kinky nudosas estructuras of the
bulbi glandis, whilst the
glans ac corpus clitoridis of one’s rostro-
ventral
membri consequi muliebris is i
n ānō στερεοπηκτόν.
À propos: the type speci
men of this spe
cial sensory κῡφωνισμόρφωτικός (kūphōnismórphōtikós) variant of the standard situation of biune dialexicalia may be found in my and
Lyra K.’s sphenic οὐλομελίη as recounted in
Pod 2, § 127 of this —
Hark! Do our s
ulky Señora’s pichiciego-squea
ky soles chirp unanticipatedly across — e
ven as I’m strapping the next little δαφ
οινός marsupial into
its guma
ts gimulah (גומץ גימולה) — the phantom
imique, lubricio
us, C-sharp-key linole
um’s gitterar
tig Umschließu
ng?
“You bitter, large-headed, fa
ncy, pat, self-blovi
atory bilge-runt!” A sm
oky phrensical surcharge calomnieux bursts above my head. “Do you really t
hink your classe-pétaradant, si
lly confab vets pleasantly with the common grown-up who sh
ares not enough of your fri
lly vocab’s pent figure retoriche to e
ven understand, let alone care a
bout angry triele
rischen plouks yabbering on about their
psychoneural Skizzenwerk or poetical m
entality or grubby nude kinky yadi-yadi-ya?”
Now, it is entirel
y en passantly moot whethe
r gay serial necatrices ac necatores com
me nous should be concerned in e
ven the least degree that our jo
lly confab’s pet vernacular is above the heads of the unsightly beas
tly pleb, fons vacuus if ever there was one of a v
ulgar bitter noyance so hurly-spiked with its own headstrong clamoring for a c
lunky prosaic shebeen where th
ey non compos
mentalistically may thoroughl
y engorge th
emselves with insipid mince
meat pies and
briny lager tout de suite, that if it indeed be the case that our
ornate sentences’ s
piky rounces lash and cow th
em into creeping away from the
meandering ramparts of our own more languorousl
y entangled textwork, that would anyway be a form of kindness, not cruelt
y.
En bloc, after all, we smalltalk- and teamwor
k-rich polysensual chercheurs et chercheuses perform our blood-red, priso
n-yellow, iro
n-gray serial sacrifices not in the interests of so
me scary pulsion ἑκατόμβική but rather in order t
o, primo, aussi net que possible, extend the sub
lunary scope his knowledge, e.g., so disinterestedly craves; secundo, refine the bomby
cinous play her skill, for instance, so liberally deploys; and
tertio, ungrab lymphatically the sociophysiological c
ompass our inim
itable turgor nympholepticus, for example, so magnanimously gets itself all tangled up in.
And so one may readily comprehend how, e
ven at the risk that such a
metapl
asminious prof
usion is par moments self-mythologizing, nous autre
s synalœphic kuriological οἰνοχόα (oshaku, 御酌) are enjoined to com
bine our illocutionary exuberance with the all
usory slick phenakistiscop
ical πόρνη-husks yummily y
ielded up by all those, so to speak, “delph
inion whores” my exile has supp
lied
me with so as to cast my no dou
bt vocal self-pynthano
menal ambition into the pulsating materiality of
slinky prose, chaude
ment
y énonçant alors ma plus échansonnesque (“munds
chenky”), plus raisonnable
lubie — l’inordinaire récit inordonnable of my v
ery own minxish œdipianisation d’ex
ilé(e). Cf., au
moins, supra, oiseusement
infra ou passim. Ironically — mais je divague.
§ 145 | Ur
The Isla Chuchit
a ’possum, ironic
ally, aroused rinzelate
passioni, umori t
anto resentiti (
sic) among
le membre riunenti (convening personnel) of o
ur lab that euthanizing the beady-eyed, mi
screant, runty, orarian mopi ossuosi (lazy under-larvae) of these small f
urry lab-golgotha’d m
artyrs to rancune et rancœur with an injection of
curare was a task that, while having ein Rand ein bisschen garst
iger, maybe repugnant also, was not without a certai
n ruminative yet pitcho
un-loined frisso
n of suriné dilucid pl
aisir — mou, spontané, ensorcelant, dru, striated
gabarit cuisant of most incomparable delect
ation! Ruder joys than feeling, with the ticklish concavity of yo
ur nubuck-soft yet muscula
r, utterly free-of-inj
ury, glabrous mano spirituale, the pilomotor ref
lex’s rough “pert
urbabative” (the reduplicated bilabial better expresses the pleas
urably grisly nature of the sensation, I think) horripilation of thei
r euplastic, dup
lex, grouse-like pelage — sh
arper bouts d’intense entrœilladante
douceur than seeing the cothur
natus syringe ejaculating its cala
marius poison intercostally straight into the stunned-by-nem
butal heart underneath — would be difficult to imagine.
Oh, how o
ur ecstatically own gl
amorous, inspissant, calvalcad
our sex gleamed and glistened in anticipation of, with the Τάρτ
αρος-prudent bite of one’s merciful n
ib, curtailing the damaged little lives of these du
o-sex, grullo-maned, science-t
ortured animals!
A prop
osito: Rumors — nimious, apocryp
hal, turbate, unsettling r
umors in as poikilomythic and -graphic a manner as may be imagined — linger on from those adventurous “cal
enture-days” — rumors de fort ressentiment that as per their reduction
ist and cruel, attrectational wont, insinuate that my “schadenfroh-like i
nterest,” “gay-traurige Wiss
begier;” my “[...] panurgent (sic) ultra-detractory Saturnean rapacity” (a reference, apparently, to R
ubens’ Portrait depicting the
truculent lech
ery Saturn dev
ours depravedly his children with which I admired recently in Madrid), and other sarcast
ic, abiturien
t, scurrile, and attritional attacks (too numerous and slanderous to either d
espend or attribute) on my well attested indulgence, sympathy, and affection in, f
or, anent, secus,
bis, de, ut pro re nata etc. these didelph
ous, roan, impish even whe
n adult, critters, arise solely from my own forborne (
sui parsi) monocl
inous or impassionately monoeciou
s nature. Contrary to such aforesaid
errant ouï-dire que las lenguas de gorrones socarrones (fanfarons la
rrons’ tongues) tend to bu
rlar (hurl unrecons
tructed abuse at) us with, I was not then nor am I now some vulg
ar cruel misundersto
od self-ruining andro
gyne pubère grimaçant en jouis
sance or tyrant ruthlessly grinding my panhy
grous nontrivialities into the h
ard Zelionyal-surrogate surface of the restraint-block’s Lap
utan corner satyr-like and sm
ugly barra
trous, nongracefully dissembling the mons
trous nongremial
spasm — ooii! — running from scalp to toe pendant que j
e brime gay repugnant tw
o-penis’d brutte ratte dei boschi and
tri-cunted rats lascifs du bois.
Grâce à l’impert
urbable perspective I’ve attained and am
currently perched atop, so to speak, via mon passage from e.g., those vivac
ious romps inaugurating my polyram
onée transduction into the hetero
ousian promiscuity of
Tradine Oru with
Drs. Rao, Pet, Buni, et alia in the back room of Owl
stain’s ryūnigiyakana
Dirna Route Café to choup
inou Paris’s momen
tous mirobolant rencontre avec
Pedro sur l’escalier en vis conduisant aux chiottes du Café des
Dos Péru oder spundend und tischlernd sich mich, z. B., into the hurly
burly, argy-
bargy, lurid tape-
cul astride tantrically talented, funambulistically lithe
Lyra grubbily splayed beneath me in my former
crony Renata’s turgid “H
yena-Garret,” strutted and fretted there like a lighted fool flayed by my own senses’ self-slaughterous f
ury (hearty gaudisserie indeed!) to ella que, most recently high above la moult
épiée grungy Rambla de Cata
lunya, deslizó arrodil
lando azurely, sirenically into me mientras que I — vivace et f
rais, zonularly devout, blissfully indifferent to any lingering memories of such slu
r-radiant scuttleb
utt, arrant — deslicé into her mientras que ella me solía a
rrullar un’ hrdlič
čí strana (turtle-dovish page) from her own deeply p
ersonal, duly zarigüeyan mythology recounting
el doble dulzura singular that the never-f
rumpy eager beings like ourselves inhabiting a remote tropical island in the Bohemian Sea are wont to indulge in,
I feel I may assert with almost tacit
urn certainty that perhaps, yes, though my own duplic
itous romantic bi
parergy being emulated, as it were, by the bif
urcated, startlingly
ugly, barrig
ones, entrañados sexes of these d
un sarigues* did make me
a bit curious as to the mechanics of their suffering and the stiffening concomitant to the terminal assuagement thereof, it would be a rather egregi
ous distortion of my true motives to in
sist too rudely that my most fascinato
rous ditto should be restricted therein.
I was also interested in them — since not only are their peculi
ar stunted altricially extreme “j
oey cunt-rats” “narrenpossenhafte Inbegriffe von kindischer Wehrlosigkeit” (“foolishly farcical embodiments of infantile powerlessness,” op.
cit., trans. de l’autre aut
eur), but the antediluvi
an adult critters’ palu
dine fur is only of one type, Grannenhaare, which is homologous with human head hair, as opposed to the three hair types possessed by yo
ur pedestrian familia
r eutherian (the aforesaid plus Lei
thaare [tubular bristles, homologous with human pubic hair] and Wol
lhaare [tutu-bouncy down, homologous with human body hair]) — as a potential model informing that theory of the evolution of hairlessness in humans
I first began sketching out during those drei Monaten (tres meses) spent on Chuchita’s neighboring island as a
sort of dürrem Geweihtem (scraggly devot
ee) purging my aberrant νοήσεως of the
embarras cupidiques it had accumulated during the rarely free of hub
bub year I spent
in Trober’s pétaudière followin
g my bien géré parurésique apprentissage
in Petra’s tour de bamboche in preparation of the impending camélé
onée transformation I underwent there
such that my consequent and subsequen
t instar carted lumbering down from our mesq
uí barraco to the canal, loaded aboard the first available galo
ubie, transported thereby al muelle so as to ship back to the mainland enough trapped specimens of
strident calatrupas and schille
rnd-triste tlacuaches
and silly zorrae umbraticae and h
rubí carach
upiosos mirandinos and gau
ntest dour rabipeladas as to prove instrumental in setting up a breeding co
lony, as ruralized and
as readily zurlonata (to hand) as possible, of ditto.
In fact, were it not for my precipitate translation from the vinai
grous Lexica Nova of my Ville Natale to F
louziana’s lyred rorifluent
Gallofrançoise, I was on the verge of publishing in
Revista Novalexicana de Divastigaciones Sociofisiológicas, with le mignot matel
ot Pierre and busty Catamena as co-authors, a paper entitled “Nachtwachen und Nachtwandeln: La zarigüeya como modelo del fenotipo de ‘ronda nocturna’” that would have shown that the wet-behind-the-e
ars neotenou
s nudité trop ébranlable
in humans that’s usually dismissed as a mere
délinéateur syndromique (“indefenso de
snudez a orillar ya por eso como delineador sindrómico de los seres humanos”) of reproductive suppression due to cooperative breeding leading to extended childhood, adolescence, aposematic menarche, bipedalism, social complexity, language, menop
ause, etcetera, springs just as
parsimoniously to the theoretical mind as being not a mere
symptôme égareur et syndiasmique but also a ve
ry real solid (unzarte) no
cturnal trait descended from that long “
feuerlose Epoche” (op. cit., abstract) when o
ur euma
trid ancestral uteromaniacal comrade
ly Sozial- und Erarbeitungsgruppen would have required that a not insignificant fraction thereof stay alert “a lo largo de la noche sin guiño ni f
runce” (ibid.) to ward off ro
utine predators, belligerent ma
rauders, potent bisexualists, Mel
usine rapi
sts, Turodi occisores, und so weiter.
It goes without saying that
la burrasca d’invidia that a
rose anent moi et mon rapid rise from
interne asocial(e) to
Notre Séante Maîtresse’s m
ost studio-ready,
unreservedly indispensable assistant, disturbing with the most
scurvy, guinnâ
rou main possible what should have been
la paisible vie de laboratoire, was due in no small measure to my special, ex grati
a, austere, respectful relationship with those sparsely
furred motors of our research program, those feisty little fustil
irian opossums, those f
urbi, incert
i, sournois, ampliateurs-de-pâm
oison marsupials!
§ 146 | Sashay
Meanwhile, refusing to c
ower in shy moxie-numbed
soumission parénétique behind her scute-knob
bly panel’s TV-focalized ramparts,
our lay tupun
a has s
ash
ayed
out, play-urusaw
ashikusciously
as we’ve seen, onto our
hap
py lab’s volt-fenced a
rena’s entonno
ir à sacrifice.
And so even
as the po
isonous imparable spume of her tempest-swe
pt envy falls obcecati
vely blanc (f-stopped
as it is within the overexposed void of her own tabagisme) all around me like the sort of spectral f
rimas so unpoignantly encountered during arctic and m
ontane research, and her irretrie
vably spent floccinaucinihilipilifications of my embryoni
c novel fly past bomb
astically
as per their implausi
bly spelt façon vitupérative, I’m able to imagine the precociou
s honey-nixie worming about through the remembered mud in the mind of this chain-smoking professore
ssa whose minxy, oneiric, Kno
pf-bony, vestal cloison’s rima pudendi her future husband w
as wont to de
ftly clasp obventitiously with the three-fingered pinch of digital delectation all the while imagining h
ow, in orexis hymenei
as, this marvelou
s minou’s paroi d’a
mour so insapiently would eventually open to him, revealing in full the musc
ular pouty undul
ant rose-enlimned comp
ass of its delicious bedazzlem
ents. No Erato but my own could so polyrhythmi
cally bop, vent sfavillantam
ente, sonar sarigamapadani
sasticall
y, and most
parsimoniously
in a porism souvent affirmé,
sing that inimita
bly cleft vas pontivagum connecting her inextrica
bly cloven past fulgurantly and fragrantly to her
irascibly p
resent añoranza thereof
sans committing some unuttera
bly spent vol fâcheux of a gutt
ural typo — “ὓ ὗ ὓ ὗ ὓ ὗ ὓ ὗ ὓ ὗ ὓ ὗ” gets, for instance, replaced by “
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha,” par exemple — since where
as in
your Pl(a)utus the fa
ncy fable’s plot veers inexorably towards the epirrhematic syzygy del placer m
utual, your Pet
ronius aims potentially complicating barbs from an anarchi
c slant bevy of playfully picaresque cupids who each in turn aim at a boatload of enchanted vo
yagers returning home from their respective
Taprobanes entorpecidas among whom we spot the first to deb
ase notr’enfant yunn
anense, Trober.
But perhaps my c
omparison is unmanagea
bly vast, pen-flocculated
ly blanc, fop-vested
ly becs-vont-plaffeuse? (And
not piaffeuse, yo
u plutoyarukerast nonentities of diorthotically m
utual puro-y-dureza! Don’t think of colt-pi
xie women in horsy get-up pawing the earth apoplectically. Think, rather, of those mechanical dipping-birds sm
ashing their beaks,
as if into their own little flacons d’eau colorée, but
actually into
your Laputuan own constrictive apparatus z
onarious.)
Simply put, I recall seeing myself seeing our hagesh
ii soprano smugly squeaking g
arishly towards me across the laboratory’s we
arisome linoleum floor, her smug face smugly beaming with that ph
arisaical memory of how her husband did eventually so smugl
y swoon in her eximious paroi’s mnemonocl
astic sp
hinxis — no mere yowling can now be heard (if only you could hear my awes
ome iynx-siren howl, my fears
ome syrinx whine, o reader!) echoing from the heights of my own spl
ay-top Uluru’s spi
v-fon-becapt, syllabu
b-fancy P.O.V.: Stelle, I notice in my nth rereading of that (compared to this co
pious roman sibyllin et sisyphesque at le
ast)
opus minor I satisfied the collective e
nvy, focal bel pstryczek, and ecumenical surliness of b
ox-wino-y Hermsen, intrusive E
sman, pious ironical M
anse et ornery aliae with, h
as, in
§ 3.2, been rendered, not
as it h
as everywhere else, correctly,
as, i.e.,
lugar,
coin,
locality, but incorrectly
as, e.g.,
estrella,
étoile,
star!
§ 147 | TO
Could our takka
noth, secular, thoroughly modern set(s) of practices of sacrifice for
the sake of FIRTRR (Fundamental Investigative Researches into The
ories of Reactive
Réalité), as sportvol
wij (we) called our i
pséiste lavôr at reposeful moments of remembrance such as this, be casually hurled aside as if it or they were a lan
thorn-house clathrate skirt offered straight (et sans po
rter risk!) off the as-is rack, by accusing it — them rather — of being but the specious contrivance(s) of an anfractuous coven bent, n
ot on making groundbreaking discove
ries of epochal import anent exa
kt théories far from limited in their impact on daily life as we claimed to be doing, but rather merely t
o serially commit what in ordinary parlance would be deemed a
sort of murder?
The paler, simpler, n
osier, vi
ler autochthons certainly did, self-righteously (with a sedately drawled out, “But you
can’t!”) hurtle-shooing our h
ot-off-the-explo
rar-skiff, theoretic
al wafuna (和船) gift to the ground as if it or they were or was a secondhand jumble of wilted
louche hats, torn summer blouses, and dilapidated two-pieces patched with the
sutelis and
latkami (латками) of yesteryear.
Yet they never shied away from rather unselfconsciously (as if they were about to actually devour the entic
heur loot!) snatching
out of the rialto of our cosmopolitan tour d’iv
oire, so to speak, the luc
ulent hot cash routinely paid to them for the a
nimate, gory, vivacious, and often quite vicious with fright
prasādān teleonómico they regularly supplied us with.
I’ve just now n
oticed a child slinking back in
to my range vive de fureur after having fled upon hearing my turbu
lent “Ach!” shout-roared in the preceding chapter.
It (by which I mean the child) even has the audacity to rest
ore simperingly to the hem of my
tomaseni (苫維) — you will notice that sometime between
§ 141 ON and now, from the af
oresaid hôtel à eidotropiques effluves dit Le Rep
osoir Étalé à Déhiscence where I began the current “Pa
ris after the forking monsoon” sequence of
my great involute
SNE matois with a
restorative splash of a depu
rative salope’s traumatico consisting of a doubl
e salvo pétri astrictivement de
café-calva avant de m’installer à table prendre un troisième s’il vous plaît, je me suis fais déména
ger à mon vit- y pucha-rejuvenating vica
rage, minty volatilities swirling up all around me from the sun-
shot sodden
fetor-frisk earth (proximity to such wa
rm soft ordure should, no doubt, even despite the intervening
tomaseni,
help to oxigenar y, por tanto ch
ulo, to stanch heroically my three-months’ menorrhagia) — before fleeing back to the safety of her (a flash of indiscree
t panocha beneath an
effaré skirt thrown up by a lewd gust of wind did not escape my practiced but, alas, intumescent gaze) mother, the fo
ul fat giant of a wissenscheissliche Falschheitschrift I had sent flutter-tumbling up into and, failing to breach the strictures of éco
nome gravity,
out of the air li
ke a froth-rift serotine mastiff bat and down yonder into the damp sandb
ox to pile haphazardly (and perhaps be inhumed there) its dys
athrotic anacolutha, sthenorhetorical lanthan
omena, stichopoe
tic syntonic sotte
ries, aeidelothoastic snotty inconsistencies, and, in addition to main
t autres l.h.o.o.chniques ap
ories, my own ab
surd, isototazic, ridiculous
bévue.
But no. The
gaunt waif floated over to retrieve the battered Rabelai
sian tome and, before rushing back to grab her impera
torious moth
er’s ointment-smeared udder, I mean hand, had the cheek to roll her eyes at me as she leant over to let it drop on a corner of my
tomaseni while the wind played l
oose, teaseful, and fast with her
skirt, feather-frothing it to give me the T
hoth-sent ocular present of the bare inta
ct rose of her tight little th
ing fufa twat — aloha!
“N
ot to lose,” asserted the horta
tory gamine, valiantly articulating — as she stood and brushed from her face a few stray wisps of disqu
ieted loose hair — a Franko-Gallic imit
ation, mesmeric in that mock-debonai
r, sort of rude, mocking almost, manner small children have about them, of Appala
tcho-Pananglic bef
ore sibilantly rushing back (the utterance final fricative of her pronunciamento had been a m
oist surd) to the sheltering s
kirts of her tearful desul
torious mother.
And that was all it took to put a — just a child’s
prim word! — stop to the bout of tearoffomania (TOM), tearoffalgia (TOA), tearoutosis (TO), and bangagainstitis (BA) I was experiencing.
Did I mention that? I think I did.
In any case, I l
inger myovatically on this
tableau, despi
te the risk of farraginous repetition, not only, ceteris paribu
s, to show that at no contin
gent (my various polymorp
h optolexical devices do on occasion chance upon a most a
pt word, impostor mio!; cf.
infra) p
oint, tendential instant, or incidental mom
ent in, to any
intent or purpose, the inter
action, ah, transpiring as recorded
supra, did either deliberate physical co
ntact or — ha! — aimless feigned indifference of the sort that implies a de
sire or need for or even willingness to offer oneself up as the
contingendum of such
contingens, ensue between either the person of myself and that of the child, or between my effects and hers, but also to record what may be regarded as a symptom of returning health — but I think that that’s best conveyed by what I’ve already written.
The sma
rmy gate involuntarily squeals and bangs.
My little Ca
thar-triff Keroessa and her slend
er Io sortent du petit jardin, leaving me
alone to destro
y à mon gré vitup
ératif the frosk-repugnant gaf
f or fritter-shake (the Ner
nst-cosy tonic I treated my mor
ose matinal psychomachy with seems already to be wearing off) my way through a hypothes
is or expl
anatio charting the tant
ivy mean, grotesquely obrepti
tious, storditame
nte intolerable methods by which a soso sol
o word trop Spitmarkxien, Stelle, got itself transformed (se hizo transformar, s’est fait métamorphoser, sich verwandelte) into that ab
stract holohenutatively* shimmery
scories of nudn
ik errors, that effascinatingly effulgent psycho
pomp word-trio — star, étoile — “SVP, Sra** (the confined space of my de fact
o raide asile [theoretically
mine, by the way, as well as legally, by reason of
jus utendi primo,
primo,
primo — words opt to elude me de temps en temps, ah, here it is, —
tenenti!] has been invaded by a
holothern,*** catsuit-c
lad, ontoepistemologically shen
tongy, Irma Vep-like, match
wood-trim, post-prandial contingent of dabblers in
yoga ventrimes
onica, that arc
haic art notably practiced by par
atantric haomists beneath the sought-a
fter other far skies of yore, but nowadays perverted into a mere calisthenic “glute-
tool,” “hip-exercise,” and gymnastic “ab-flattener”), — I indicate the sullied
sector where the sweat-stained, fungus-infused, cork-and-crocus substrate of her woebeg
one mat is impinging upon my immaculate
tomaseni, “mais regardez où ce qu’on devrai
t voir! Pas là!” — estrella — got the
re. I some
times (anomalia rara) fo
rget, o vain myopic censor of mine,
stale sot so often disappointed by the rather innocu
ous “dirt” stodgily clogging my st
ories (not to mention the
tame insonorit
ies or the that’s-a-bit-of-a-stre
tch, uh, star neologisms of my pr
ose!), to entertain the thought that — but perhaps this thought deserves a section of its own, or at least one where I can assu
age my introvert’s need for a cer
tain something stronger than — mais n’anticipons pas.
§ 148 | Tear off her skirt
“The witness, a frowsy ferret-eyed stork-shinned heifer identified as Io N. (IN), froward, toffish and frisky in the box, told the court that the assailant, Nolan E. Deal, used something ‘sharp as an edge of a ferrate instrument’ — ‘Do you mean a knife?’ suggested Kristoff Härter, the lawyer for the prosecution. ‘More like a lamber’s bodkin, sir.’ To which even the judge, K. F. Seaforth, cracked a smile. — to tear off her skirt (a sort of retro-freak Shaker linen frock and shift with a tarty chambray guimp, actually, the vestiges of which were later be used, according to Sheriff Cratti D’Aruntles’s report, by ‘the sore, befouled, but nevertheless still spry waif to flag Aunt Oprah’ [AO), and threatened to strike her with it if she did not kneel down and “troth his fife then and there on the very
tear off her skirt
“‘Estás lista para rut, my puny blond slave?’ K venerates into the ears of BM. ‘By all means, you alien!’ BM posts a pestle plea and redistemperates her lesbianism as K starts to tear off her skirt.” (M. S. Litarn, The humiliation of BM. Krišnaborg: Lepastic Press, 2006, p. 11).
“And should I tear off her skirt? Or should I ruin no fields? I opt for the latter. Not for the first time do I prepare to knead and knuckle her, tender and soft at first, then deep and hard. I warm the lube in my hands before proceeding to gently circumambulate with my volars her sacrospinalii and gluteals.” (Velasto Prastier, Cuánto does a grip pèse: Les mémoires of a multilingual masajista).
“Don’t worry, I think the fairy will get away, but the dragon’s going to tear off her skirt. How embarassing!” (Jasmin Islam, Agua Prieta Piste, 19 June 2004).
“For Lee See, I’d keep her unders on, but tear off her skirt. Glom her lares, and cramp her to stairs and jars and posts and whatnot in a steamy abandoned stable and heat her up with a dose of lusterine” (Ariel Ebsalai, Amiss in the abnorm.).
“Five-year-old Sophie paid no heed, but the small rescuer overtook the terrified little girl and tried to tear off her skirt, now all aflame. The right sleeve of her own dress took fire and, frightened now herself, the little girl dropped her friend and clutched at her own blazing sleeve” (“Girl of six tries rescue. Burned trying to put out flames in her playmate’s dress.” Minxburgh Monitor, 2 January 1912).
“AT couldn’t help but unbuckle her belt nebulously as M, K, M, and J sought to rule over her once again in the front of the schooner, attracting a large crowd of seasalts. Most of the converts had already debarked by then, watchfully, but from the docks they could be heard to yell encouraging words such as, “Rip her shirt off!” and “Tear off her skirt!”” (Gals Saliba, Tales of the Arathu Sea).
“Every move she made was drawing out a new side of him – a side that just wanted to tear off her skirt, bend her over and fuck her till she was screaming his name” (Onyx LS, “What Happens in LA Stays in LA,” 27 December 2010).
“Voldemort smiled as he saw Filch having his perverse fun. He watched Filch tear off her skirt, and then pull down her granny pants using his teeth. Umbridge cried silently as she felt his mouth on her skin, his breath coming in quick, hot pants, tainting her body” (Laura C., The Burning Pen Sickest Lemon Challenge, Untitled, nd).
“J enervates to elate the duty as OA, OD, and ON take gonorturns blessing her soto Rumi who invites the onlookers to slake prying eyes by means of the holes drilled for that very purpose in the wall. Despite her eye-purging amber and though starving for more Wyoming, she readorns as the man o’ war gin goons tear off her skirt and continue to try sanding hulls in her promised realm” (Ure Aders, Trash thug vigor. Port Gaspard: ).
eskar. But affeert it must ha’ been, since no slim effort of prodding and shirking I spent to hark and heist it from its sheathe could coax any glory from the little terror. And so I tried forking my fur-trimmed shako athwart his trotters an’ shark.
But that only irked his affret the more, and launched his freakish thirst on a raft of blunt lust entailing him to strafe and fritter my glistening soft hiker’s frith with the hickory handle of his shifty roker’s dirk. In the afterthroes he sobbed, and kissed my forest of bruises and blood, and whispered the triffest
lare barg in my ears.’” (Teresa Frith-Korf, “Lyness Trial, Day 2: Witness Takes Stand.” The Hoy
Ahoy, 4 April 2002).
§ 149 | Osier
§ 150 | Realm
Real M? Re a Luis Magrinyà? Refer to story, supposedly in
Habitación Doble, in which upstairs and downstairs neighbors' sexual relationship ends in violence and compensation, buying of property of one by the other, joining two flats together with staircase, and thus doubling of property? Plagiary of situation with Swopes and Moéu?
“Differences between the ‘true’ realm of the grail kingdom and the ‘illusory’ lair of Klingsor are obscured, refocusing the moral drama away from religious and metaphysical absolutes and towards the presence or absence of the capacity for pity [the rapacity of cities” (G. Dammann, What kind of fools were they? The exercise of pity in Wagner and Mark-Anthony Turnage. TLS, 11 March 2011, p. 17).
“‘Rational’ criticism can find no hold here, for it evolved, as we have seen, in response to one form of (political) absolutism, and finds itself equally at a loss when confronted with another form of self-grounded absolutism in the realm of transcendental spirit” (T. Eagleton, The function of criticism, London, Verso, 1984, p. 43).
“From the writings of the later Coleridge, through to Carlyle, Kingsley, Ruskin, Arnold and others, literature is extricated from the arena of Realpolitik and elevated to a realm where, in the words of one Victorian commentator, ‘all might meet and expatiate in common’” (T. Eagleton, The function of criticism, London, Verso, 1984, pp. 39–40).
“What such a realm will then be unable to withstand is the inruption into it of social and political interests in palpable conflict with its own ‘universal’ rational norms” (T. Eagleton, The function of criticism, London, Verso, 1984, p. 35).
§ 151 | None rates
"Among these methods, none rates higher in importance than schemes for detecting wildfires and putting them out." (Boys' Life, December 1961) "Among the professions represented in Washington probably none rates higher than the statisticians', and perhaps no profession was ever so concentrated in one city." (Teaching statistics at the Department of Agriculture Graduate School in Washington. Biometrics Bulletin, vol. 1, no. 3, June 1945, p. 33.)
§ 152 | Trouves it
§ 153 | Otiose
The structure of reality, as we know, is yazdehan; her nature, however, is otiose. Probably the best way to characterize the fundamentally lazy, absent-minded, uninventive, and inconsistent nature of reality. Reality is truly otiose, hence her gaps, her repetitions, her antiphenomenal plagiaries, her “spooky action at a distance.”
“Otium (‘leisure’) is the freedom not so much from other duties as for creative and cultivated activity. It is a byword for a way of life and writing which Cicero (when in writerly mode) and Catullus share and exercise.” [J. Katz, review of S. Culpepper Stroup, Catullus, Cicero and a society of patrons: The generation of the text. TLS, 5 November 2010, p. 30
§ 154 | Entails ruby do
the seedy traboules in Lyon
§ 155 | Ven
§ 156 | Srai
§ 157 | Minion sexy whore
Nin...
§ 158 | Subborainizy
§ 159 | Wyoming
§ 160 | Io
Waxing crescent moon, three evenings past first visible crescent; also, crescent phase of Venus.
§ 161 | M
§ 162 | Tulpuyauor
A town on the Port Astri (or Eight Ports) Bay of Wyoming, also known as Port Uluyau (from the so-called “old [ulu wharf [yau,” supposedly a relic from Subborainizy’s voyages throughout the Arathu Sea, in the new port of Tulpuyauor); New Lexican maps show the town as “Putu Rayolu.”. Also, a traditional Norlian dish of snails, cracked barley, and eleven species of mushrooms, the matrix, some say, of the impossible-to-find Catalo-Ionian dish of paella amb caracols i sept setas.
§ 163 | Nelc pabsl toyvf
§ 164 | Lusterine
§ 165 | Playtoy
§ 166 | Equilibrium
“The equilibrium of her nature, savage and refined, gave her bridled skull a look of compassion.” “There was some derangement in her equilibrium that kept her immune from her own descent” [D. Barnes, Nightwood. New York: Harcourt, Brace & Co., 1937.
“When I went out on the prowl at night I was more frightened than ever; the sex and the spying had sustained a kind of equilibrium, each a cover for the other.” [J. Banville, The untouchable
“Complicity is fundamental to every reader-author relationship [RA: reader-author; RARE: reader-author relationship; ERARTSOS: every reader-author relationship TSOS, but the oulipian covenant also implies a radically modern equilibrium [ME: modern equilibrium of readerly freedom and readerly burden.” [D. Levin Becker, Many subtle channels: In praise of potential literature, p. 294 Conjunctivism is fundamental to . . . ?
§ 167 | EFO
Euphenics Forum of Owlstain; Éducation Flousianienne Obligatoire (ou Obligée)(ou de l’Octroi, par Octroi, à l’Octroi)
§ 168 | Orgyoygro
ὄναγρον, ὀνάγρα oleander (Nerium oleander)
§ 169 | Nuskalo ecyi pshr
§ 170 | Promised
A promised review that never materialized: “Dans l’un de nos prochains cahiers, il sera rendu compte du tome de
M. Spitmarkx, qui concerne la duplicité d’hippopotame &c., chez les indomptables, les chômeurs, les mystiques, les attelés, et chez les hépatiques d’après les longueurs de la mousson et selon le temps” (
Journal des Sçavans, juillet 1825, p. 446). The promised paella amb caracols i sept setas also never materialized, and despite the trips I took to Barkeno just to spite her, I have never been able to locate this dish in any restaurant of la ciutat condal.
"Again the cornucopia poured out its treasure, and promised still more." [Melville, Confidence Man, p. 334 "True, it was just as much as China Aster could possibly do to induce his wife, a careful woman, to sign this bond ; because she had always regarded her promised share in her uncle's estate as an anchor well to windward of the hard times in which China Aster had always been more or less involved, and from which, in her bosom, she never had seen much chance of his freeing himself. [Melville, Confidence Man, pp. 335-336 "Upon this, indignation and abhorrence seemed to work by their excess the effect promised of the balsam." [ibid. p. 120 "in fact, this he believed would prove the foundation of that famous fortune which the angel had promised him." [ibid, p. 333
§ 171 | Tit
§ 172 | Ysraaln rieg
§ 173 | Neutral bigotry
§ 174 | Unders
§ 175 | Bernouilli
§ 176 | Bantu
[I recently chanced upon Babur Rao's youngest daughter Bantu in a café on
rue André del Sarte. She was in the company of that nobody, the much older poetaster, M. S. Strickland.
Why she was soliciting mentoring from this old nobodaddy I could not imagine, but when I saw him embrace bubbly Bantu's young firm tan body in both the Appalachian and the Flouzianian senses of the word, and she respond in kind...!
However, since M. S. Strickland has published the above in his Rime Argile (Clay Rhymes), it seems that Teresa R’s poignant eulogy was actually ghostwritten! — the hack having gotten the job, apparently, after having hooked up with the Widow Rao’s youngest daughter, Bantu. And clearly, however firmly he embraces the young firm tan body of bubbly Bantu (she cannot be much older than sixteen!), MSS has a rather weak grasp of Flouzianian: the phrase “Sartre est à serre” (the fourth
word’s initial sibilant should be lower case), is an allusion to Victor Lucas’s
Bell Jar — I know because I recently had lunch with him at the X X cafe, ! And the "mirror self"?! Further evidence that MSS not only does not know his Flouzianian, but does not know his R! he who shaved by feel alone, never with a mirror!
§ 177 | M
§ 178 | SO
§ 179 | Ani Dybn Yeud Ikky
Nin...
§ 180 | Dudu
§ 181 | Ktar
§ 182 | Nene
In Egu Belong (Gaubolambe; i.e., la isla Pequeño Andamán), nene is an imperative suffix in Onge. In Hawaii, a nene (Haw. nēnē) is an endemic goose (Branta sandvicensis Vigors, 1833) evolved from a vagrant Tetrastic form. In Barkeno, a nene is a Catalan girlchild. In the swamplands of southern Appalachia and eastern Flouziana, a nene is a Muskogean path or trail (sendero, chemin). In perfidious Albion, the Nene is an Fenlandish river. In Aotearoa, Nene was a rangatira of the Ngāti Hau, a hapū (iwi) of Hokianga. Also, a notional, or noumenal, “gene” (i.e., minimal unit of reproduction and variation in the realm of ideas).
§ 183 | Yin
[I’m as much yin as I am yang.
§ 184 | Mustig
[Misspelled this word in my brief article reporting the fall of Ada Romer in Agua Prieta Piste; u should not be umlaut.
§ 185 | T. S. Eridzoi
§ 186 | IN
§ 187 | IS
§ 188 | Dear R
§ 189 | US
§ 190 | Snoyw smudrto
§ 191 | M