TPPM Barthelme: "The Donald Barthelme Story"

[Dave Monroe]

Oops, forgot ...

Rounder Records

http://www.rounder.com/

Cf. ...

   "But behind Barthelme's own slick city-sophisticate
disguise still lounged, alarmingly, this good old
Dairy Queen regular in some conspicuous hat, around in
whose backseat opened containers had been known to
roll, harboring the mischievous daydreams of a Texas
rounder, not to mention a lengthy stretch of DNA
dedicated just to locating and enjoying various highly
seasoned pork products...." (ibid.)

http://waste.org/mail/?list=pynchon-l&month=0411&msg=95221

Not to mention ...

http://waste.org/mail/?list=pynchon-l&month=9809&msg=31021

http://waste.org/mail/?list=pynchon-l&month=0307&msg=82602


"Two seconds of quiet, neutral darkness"

   "And it is here, just at this dark and silent
frame,  that the pointed tip of the Rocket, falling
nearly a mile per second, absolutely and forever
without sound, reaches its last unmeasurable gap above
the roof of this old theatre, the last delta-t.
   "There is time, if you need the comfort, to touch
the person next to you, or to reach between your own
cold legs ... or, if song must find you, here's one
They never taught anyone to sing, a hymn by William
Slothrop, centuries forgotten and out of print, sung
to a simple and pleasant air of the period. Follow the
bouncing ball:

    There is a Hand to turn the time,
    Though thy Glass today be run,
    Till the Light that hath brought the Towers low
    Find the last poor Pret'rite one . . .
    Till the Riders sleep by ev'ry road,
    All through our crippl'd Zone,
    With a face on ev'ry mountainside,
    And a Soul in ev'ry stone. ...

"Now everybody—-" (GR, Pt. IV, p. 760)

--- Dave Monroe <monropolitan at yahoo.com> wrote:

   "As catastasis yields to catastrophe, shots of
Barthelme are gradually replaced with shots of people
talking about him, and shots of the city, parkland,
sunsets, hospitals, and the like. The last we get to
see of him, Barthelme is driving some gray
primercoated
outlaw's dream of a Trans-Am, pulling onto some
freeway, softly thundering away into the evening
humidity, Lightnin' Hopkins on the soundtrack singing
'Baby Please Don't Go,' the camera pulling back into a
helicopter shot, swooping upward as credits roll,
production, technical, Houston and New York second 
units, dialogue coaches, duck wranglers. Lights 
beginning to come on all across the crowded prairie.
Album is available on Rounder Records. Studio logo.
Two seconds of quiet, neutral darkness. Then a promo
for the news at ten."

http://www.vheissu.org/bio/eng_barthelme.htm

http://www.pynchon.pomona.edu/uncollected/barthelme.html

http://www.themodernword.com/pynchon/pynchon_essays_barthelme.html

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