GR translation: miles-down-the-sky shelves and food-mountains

[Mike Jing]

Thanks, Mark.


On Fri, Dec 15, 2017 at 5:42 AM, Mark Kohut <mark.kohut at gmail.com> wrote:

> The Strand Bookstore in NYC has eight (8) miles of shelves.
>
> Pete Atkin sings "Be Careful When They Offer You The Moon"
> <https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=2&ved=0ahUKEwj69sn26YvYAhVKMd8KHeLEC0EQFgguMAE&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.peteatkin.com%2Fplay%2Fa15.htm&usg=AOvVaw0_bweHhM4kYSIcjh4Sp99I>
> www.peteatkin.com/play/a15.htm
>
> <https://www.google.com/search?newwindow=1&safe=active&source=hp&ei=aKYzWp79OYTH_QbUiJz4BA&q=%22miles-down-the-sky%22&oq=%22miles-down-the-sky%22&gs_l=psy-ab.3...2773.12512.0.13715.26.22.2.0.0.0.472.2083.19j2j4-1.22.0....0...1.1.64.psy-ab..2.20.1810.0..0j35i39k1j0i131k1j0i67k1j0i46i67k1j46i67k1j0i10k1j0i30k1j0i10i30k1j0i8i30k1.0.LDBN96Cy3Og#>
>
>    1.
>    <http://webcache.googleusercontent.com/search?q=cache:jCfI7-U9m7AJ:www.peteatkin.com/play/a15.htm+&cd=2&hl=en&ct=clnk&gl=us>
>
> And a quarter-million miles down the sky. They'll watch you shining more
> but weighing less. So be careful when they offer you the moon. It's only
> dream stuff. It's a Tin Pan Alley prop held up by bluff. And nobody
> breathes easy on the moon. Nobody breathes easy on the moon. Count to ten
> when they offer you the moon ...
>
> On Fri, Dec 15, 2017 at 5:25 AM, Mike Jing <gravitys.rainbow.cn at gmail.com>
> wrote:
>
>> V677.32-678.4, P690.39-691.9   . . . but look how lost, how unarrested
>> his face is, was, that 11⁄2 seconds in the glow from the folksy old icebox
>> humming along in Kelvinator-Bostonian dia-lect, “Why cummawn in, T’rone,
>> it’s nice and friendly heeah in my stummick, gawt lawtsa nice things, like
>> Mawxies, ‘n’ big Baby Rooths . . . .” Walking now in among
>> miles-down-the-sky shelves and food-mountains or food-cities of Iceboxland
>> (but look out, it can get pretty Fascist in here, behind the candy-colored
>> sweet stuff is thermodynamic elitism at its clearest—bulbs can be replaced
>> with candles and the radios fall silent, but the Grid’s big function in
>> this System is icebox-ery: freezing back the tumultuous cycles of the day
>> to preserve this odorless small world, this cube of changelessness)
>>
>> What does "miles-down-the-sky" mean?
>>
>>
>
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