Interlude: If James Wood Supposes...

[robinlandseadel at comcast.net]

Further, totally aberrant and unrequested Dogma:

After À la recherche du temps perdu, all other novels look like miniatures, 
AtD included.

Gravity's Rainbow is wonderful, unrepeatable and so potent in its content as to 
blind critical consideration of OBA's other children:

                     "Oh Blinding Light,
                     [stomp!]
                     Oh Light That Blinds.
                     I Can Not See,
                     Look Out For Me!!! 
                     (organ gliss and foley of crashing noises). . . ." 

AtD has the best drug sequences of TRPV's corpus.

Pink Floyd sucks. Sex Pistols rule.

Rod did his best stuff as a soloist for Mercury---Never a Dull Moment, usw. . . 

Fleetwood Mac peaked at Tusk and Tango in the Night is grotesquely underated.

Bob Dylan peaked with "Time Out of Mind". 

"I can't even remember what it was I came here to get away from."

Bush's 2st term unmatched in evil accomplishments by any other 
presidential term in office [writ of Habeas Corpus R.I..P.]

Sviatoslav Richter's recordings of Beethoven's late piano sonatas 
kicks Artur Schnabel's to the curb.

Miles Davis was a much better musician in his radical electric phase.

ABBA is much better musically than most people can comprehend.

Against the Day has the deepest spiritual content of any of Thomas Pynchon's 
novels and goes a long way towards expanding and clairfying the deep spiritual 
content of Gravity's Rainbow.

Iceland Spar is nowhere near as good as a clear globe of quartz crystal for 
scrying.

The Thoth Deck [more Freida Harris than Nicholas Nook---oops, Crowley] 
is much better than the "Pixie" Coleman-Smith Rider-Waite deck.

If you hex someone, you better have a fuckin' good reason, otherwise 
your ass is grass. 
[Now I can't can't get Sting's voice out of my head, singing 
"If you hex somebody, set them free". On the other hand, his vile
records of Dowland deserve some sort of awful revenge.]