Oral duel circumscribed in the mandala of humanity

[Terrance]

Terrance wrote:
> 
> Dave Monroe wrote:
> >
> > Think I was going to the trouble NOT to do so ...

Dave, 

I'm sorry I did not want to include your name with the the others. 
You were going to the trouble to discourage the others from playing
their stupid game. Or getting paranoid. For you know it, Mike. Barb,
JbFrame will be asking Doug to call in the mental health care
professionals, the cops and his family attorney to get rid of Proz. 

I'm sorry I typed your name in with theirs. 


I've unsubscribed. 

I'm not a metal fan and I'm definitely not a nihilist. But, I
think it's cool to have Proz on the list. I hope and pray he is not an
anti-Semite or a white power racist as I have been told by untrustworthy
sources,  Mike Weaver). I asked him to clear these accusation off the
table but he
doesn't want to. 

My motto is, "keep it  hard" and my mantra "Asato Ma Sat Gamayo" 



Maybe try a poem or a song. 
Verbal contests are the best
each year I'll have my tonsils blessed
not because the blessing is sanctioned by the church
but because the unknown function of the things 
might just be as useful as angel's wings. 

to post yourself out of a lurch
to get your ass out of a sling
or to stop your gut from growling
to get away from the mad crowd's howling
sometimes the best and only thing
is step into the ring and sing. 

It's a game. Not tough enough? 

Boxing and cockfights aren't nearly as bloody as war. 
And (perhaps Proz can remind us of the cock fight scene in 100 Years of
Solitude that Pynchon alludes to in the cock fight scene in M&D) being
haunted by the dead is no Reason to join the army or the church. 

Recall those singing duelists in GR. The Kazakh musical broil (356-57). 

Winner, Thomas G.: Oral Art and Literature of the Kazakhs of Russian
Central Asia

The staging of Martin Fierro (610-11) by the anarchists of Argentina. 

In the singing duelists, which could very well have ended in "a village
apocalypse" but ends in "a comic cooperation" of insults, not unlike the
elephant insults in the Stencil impersonations, the parties part without
coming to any
resolution (sustained agonistic paradox, this all happens within a
mandala of humanity. one of Pynchon's major themes), but in the drama,
something else happens, where again we have the duel of opposites, two
wandering singers, one is black and one is white. What
happens? Do they part without ever resolving the payada (or 
contrapunto: an extemporaneous poetic contest of question and answer
among the Gauchos)? 

I can almost imagine sitting in a theatre and seeing the black outlines
of Tchitcherine's binoculars on the screen. This is how Pynchon's
allusions, symbolism,
extra-textuals make sense for the reader (this white brother/half/black
brother, is Cain and Able, Parzival and all that Freudian repressed
desire to murder something black inside the white self, shit! Death
literally inside YOU!), but we can, not saying we have to, we can read
Martin Fierro, and what does Borges say about that. 

Sticks and stones may break glass homes
but names should never arm you.

Terrance (an Anus by any other name).