Pynchon, Pavlov, and Wittgenstein

[Swing Hammerswing]

>Oh, you seem plenty windy to me.
>
>David Morris

'Tis good to hear, that one listening to my antics during the last five days 
or so, say from the upper stalls,  would liken my behavior to the 
malfunctioning, not of some antique hammering machinery, but to more recent 
technologies, a farting computer gone windy, its circuitry imploding, its 
mind smoking through metal seams and grills, its gyrations becoming more and 
more manic. Much nonsense flows in these windy words, lock all the doors and 
board up the windows. Intimations of Departure; presentiments of conclusion. 
Squatting between a General Motors Van and
street car named after a Brooklyn nurse nick named Easy in the nick of time, 
scrupulously scrubbed the gutter, the crapper, The New York Times spread 
across my thighs. Most of the paper's prime space has been devoted to the 
wind, the foul contagion spread by the breath of life gone yellow with 
politics and propaganda, the Mayor is poisoning the poor with IG Farben's 
pesticides and a starry eyed liberal predicts that Nazism is in the air. 
Blow…..there she blows, time to turn back and blow my nose with a bald spot 
in the middle of my conscience, now what shall I ever do, let me knock on 
the adjacent stall.

Banging on the Van

"Mr. Bloom, oh, Br. Bloom, could you lend us five quid to wipe my windy 
hole?

Beans, beans
good for the heart
the more you eat them
the more you burp
the more you burp
the better you feel
so eat your children with every meal.

			--Swift

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