AtD: Lew's experience of grace

[Michael Bailey]

 alice wellintown wrote:
> As Hector hectors Zoyd, "you gonna die."   Ain't no magic liquid, no
> earthly host gonna give you everlasting life. But,  Zoyd, in a dress,
> has a plan; he gonna perform. Nobody came. / Father McKenzie wiping
> the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave /
> No one was saved.
>

is that where he got that from!?

> Henry Adams never learned a damn thing and some folks think he didn't
> have any fun either. Well, I bet he had lotz of fun.
>

My library has something called NetLibrary and I found his history of
the US during the administrations of (whoever) from 1801 to 1816 - I
could find out who Gallatin was, and may even do so, although lately
I've been hooked on Walter Mosley detective stories...

> But now I'm sick and have this horrible sneeze coming again.
>

Linus Pauling, 2 Nobel Prizes, vitamin c, you could look it up
good stuff, he drank it with bicarb to buffer it but for a few cents
more, Emergen-C in little packets is effervescent and sweet...

> A similar problem afflicts Swan Song, also one of the original plays.
> In it, an aged actor (the marvelous Robert Hock) comes into a dark
> stage after having napped through a theater party. His appearance
> echoes that of the servant Firs at the end of The Cherry Orchard. An
> old prompter appears, and the actor begins to lament the way the
> theater stood between him and happiness. It’s a lugubrious and dark
> piece, and although both actors are excellent, it feels too long
> (especially after Chekhov introduces scenes from Shakespeare (Othello
> and Lear).
>
> http://www.offoffonline.com/archives.php?id=1840
>

my friend Rob sent me a link to all of Chekhov's short stories on
line, one of them is about a guy who's all proud about getting his
name in the paper for falling over when drunk or something like that

I met up with a similar incident once in high school when I was
wondering lonely as a cloud and went to a clearing in a park (I was
like, think I'll go see so and so but I never used to call first and
so when they weren't home I guess I'd be walking around, it was pretty
fun anyway) -
a park where we used to go and smoke pot, and there, sitting on a log
was a friendly acquaintance x, a stoner of the first water, and he
told me he'd burned his family's house down, smoking in bed.
He was ready for me not to believe him, too: he had the newspaper
article about it with him.  In retrospect, I fault myself for not
being effusively sympathetic enough, about all I did was get him to
agree that it was a good thing nobody was injured in the fire...at
least I could've bought him a Coke and some Reese's peanut butter cups
at the nearby convenience store...

anyway, wonder what ol' Chekhov would make of that?


-- vitamin C I tell you, it's the bees knees