promotion made official. found out my antics have inspired my co-workers to nickname me the heart-break kid. like gawd hisself, i will not be mocked: they will get theirs, the bastards! now more money is coming in… to do what with? no time to travel. maybe feed a kid in africa. clone my dogs. clone myself? ugh.
sadly, unless something drastic happens, i will continue sleep-walking through life until henry james’ “great good thing” comes for me.
got rid of 55 banker’s boxes of books last weekend: stuff like musty old penguin translations of tolstoy and dostoevsky, law books, the complete works of rick moody (first editions), about 2/3rds of kingsley amis’ output, books by alexander cockburn, robert fisk, christopher hitchens, econometrics, multiple sets of doris lessing’s the children of violence series and her canopus in argos: archives series…. When and where did I get all this stuff?… goodbye my never read various abridgements of gibbon, goodbye lesbian art in america, you were so good to me!, goodbye betty page books, bye-bye the novels of william gibson, au revoir screenplays by harold pinter, derek jarman and richard price, so long multiple copies of robert musil’s five women, good riddance my omnium gatherum of philip roth — goodbye, p-ro, you one shot wonder! admit it, you blew your wad on portnoy’s complaint… please stop writing novels about your dawning realization that you too will one day be dead… goodbye, my first edition of in cold blood, which my dogs pissed on, goodbye, 10 years’ worth of the new yorker (in boxes littered with mouse shit)…. goodbye all 1625-odd of you! you’re off to be reincarnated as toilet paper…. Shit! After all the money I spent on you over the last 30 years … you put me in mind of pynchon’s famous “shit, money and the Word”:
The money seeping its way out . . . what stayed at home in Berkshire went into timberland whose diminishing green reaches were converted acres at a clip into paper — toilet paper, banknote stock, newsprint — a medium or ground for shit, money, and the Word. . . . Shit, money, and the Word, the three American truths, powering the American mobility, claimed the Slothrops, clasped them for good to the country’s fate.
Leave a comment
No comments yet.