Remembering Myself, Travestying Time…and Phonying towards Perfection



“Haiku 01- Basho”

The winter storm
hides in the bamboo
and becomes silent



“When an underground train … stops too long”

When an underground train, in the tube, stops too long between stations
And the conversation rises and slowly fades into silence
And you see behind every face the mental emptiness deepen
Leaving only the growing terror of nothing to think about

T. S. Eliot. “East Coker.”

“I had no attachments, I believed in nothing”

I had no attachments, I believed in nothing. It was not that I was a doubter, or that I had armed myself with the useful scepticism of a rational curiosity, or that I saw all arguments from all sides; there was simply no good cause, no enduring principle, no fundamental idea with which I could identify, no transcendent entity whose existence I could truthfully, passionately or quietly assert.

Ian McEwan. Black Dogs.

“Men are women and women are men”

Clothes are costumes or disguises. The image has nothing to do with truth.And what is the truth? Whatever you want it to be. Men are women and women are men. Everybody is everything.

Narcopolis. Jeet Thayil.

“His self-consciousness surprised and appalled him”

His self-consciousness surprised and appalled him. What need was there for this? Why did he not simply speak his heart?

Because his heart did not speak, that was why. Because language presupposes artificiality. Because in the end there was nothing, absolutely nothing, to be said.

Howard Jacobson. The Finkler Question.

“Good morning! Good morning!”

… suddenly, here…, in imitation of the local inhabitants, I am transformed into a veritable geyser of good mornings. That’s all anybody around that place know how to say–they feel the sunshine on their faces, and it just sets off some sort of chemical reaction: Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! sung to half a dozen different tunes!

Philip Roth. Portnoy’s Complaint.

“I don’t like work”

“I don’t like work – no man does – but I like what is in the work, – the chance to find yourself. Your own reality – for yourself, not for others – what no other man can ever know. They can only see the mere show, and never can tell what it really means.”

Heart of Darkness. Joseph Conrad.

“What happens with sassy music”

What happens with sassy music is you get floated away from yourself, then snap back to reality too hard. I hate that. The only antidote is to just stay depressed.

Vernon God Little. DBC Pierre.

“how shaky were my claims to any social concern”

… I realized even at that moment how shaky were my claims to any social concern. Like most people, I feel ambiguous guilt for my inferiors, ambiguous envy for my superiors, and mandatory low-spirits about the system itself.

The Rachel Papers. Martin Amis.

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