SLSL Intro (A Couple-Three Bozos

[s~Z]

>>>However, if we let the sparks fall and settle; the
shivering stop; the conflicts and questions to pass;
then suddenly without our conscious effort, we begin
to fit together something new. I like new stuff. I
like to read what people fit together. <<<

We all talk with arrogant self-righteousness as we project our voices onto
TRP's writings. When we step back and try to hear what unique and artful
offering he is making we stammer. I do think he is making an incredible
offering. We don't need Pynchon to argue about a lot of the things we argue
about here. We need Pynchon to shake our foundations, to confront us. If all
he does is reflect the perspectives we already have, of what good is that?

Spleen I by Baudelaire

Pluvius, irritated at the entire town,
>From his urn pours torrents of a gloomy chill
Over the pale neighbors resting underground
And mortality over shrouded suburban hills.

My cat looks among the flagstones for a litter,
Turning his meager, mangy body without rest;
The soul of an old poet plays in the gutter,
His sad voice that of a shivering ghost.

The logs blacken with smoke, and the bumblebee laments
With the sniffling clock in falsetto accompaniment,
While from a dropsical old woman's bequeathed trove,

A deck full of dirty, dull, stalely perfumed cards,
The queen of spades and the dapper jack of hearts
Have a sinister chat about their defunct love.