Saturday, August 26, 2006

Waiting for Foucault?

My reading has slowed down lately. I still haven't finished Foucault's Pendulum. Then again, it is a long book with lots of French and Latin. Here's a sampling, because I feel the need to share:

"The Massalians are not dualists but monarchians, and they have dealings with the infernal powers, and in fact some texts call them Borborites, from borbors, filth, because of the unspeakable things they do."

"What do they do?"

"The usual unspeakable things. Men and women hold in the palm of their hand, and raise to heaven, their own ignominy, namely, sperm or menstruum, then eat it, calling it the Body of Christ. And if by chance a woman is made pregnant, at the opportune moment they stick a hand into her womb, pull out the embryo, throw it in a mortar, mix in some honey and pepper, and gobble it up."

"How revolting, honey and pepper!" Diotavelli said.

Looks like Steve isn't the only smut-writer.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Welcome to Me

In the interest of getting this blog set up, the first post will be short, sickeningly sweet, and subject to change.

Recent reading:

-Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett
-Fierce Invalids Home From Hot Climates by Tom Robbins
-In Cold Blood by Truman Capote
-Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation by Lynne Truss
-Life of Pi by Yann Martel
-War Memorials by Clint McCown

Currently reading:

-Foucault's Pendulum by Umberto Eco
-The Letters of Robert Duncan and Denise Levertov, eds. Robert J. Bertholf and Albert Gelpi

(I've been reading that last one for two years. The fucker is big.)

Talk amongst yourselves.

The Taste of Waterville festival is happening below me. It's loud, overpriced and annoying (the festival goes on until late midnight, and sometimes, some people want to go to bed. I guess this is the problem with living downtown.) but it's kind of fun when you're down there, and it helps the local restaurants (which are excellent) and the area's seriously depressed economy, so I'm not going to complain more than I absolutely have to. Maybe after dinner I'll crawl down to the beer garden.

Peace out.