Olive Oyl, Sweet Pea, Bluto, and Wimpy, there were cave-days on the desolate
shore, surf's incessant thunder, Sea Hag's cackle and dirty tricks, cold
hours, life-and-death with bald zombies that looked so much like him.
So out of rock soil he scratched a plot for that strange, green leaf.
In Grandfather's barrel, not fish, but a rat.
He went out of his mind while he was quite a young man. He composed
continually in the asylum. He used the sheets of music-paper he had written
on for a very different purpose and said with a grin of delight, "That's
all the works of man are worth."
The windsurfer's board, great, elongated tiddly-wink snapper, marbled in deep
orange and black. For the past hour, he has spent a grand total of
ninety seconds on its surface.
Court of Ass-Sizes.
God is the indwelling and not the transient cause of all things.
Doxa is either derived from dioxis (pursuit), and expresses the march of the
soul in the pursuit of knowledge, or from the shooting of a bow (toxon); the
latter is more likely, and is confirmed by oiesis (thinking), which is only
oisis (moving), and implies the movement of the soul to the essential nature
of each thing--just as boule (counsel) has to do with shooting (bole); and
boulesthai (to wish) combines the notion of aiming and deliberating--all
these words seem to follow doxa, and all involve the idea of shooting.
Forsythia-blooms crowd and crown our discontent.
A house-sized garbage truck bangs along its endless route, corner to corner
Barely reaching from one chrome-edged side to its other, he grapples and
rocks the vending machine, rhythm relentless, grating, moon-big, as it tips
into his curses, even as it comes over, all the way, to crush everything out
of him, right there on the grimy cement.
He regarded himself as bound to her by vows of fidelity and deliberately
eluded all temptations. And there were many. Not only at the Opera, but
everywhere he went he caused a flutter. He was not in the ordinary sense
good-looking, but he had a great fascination.
Once, they returned to the old apartment. Ghosthunters --
their job, to find their own weight.
If he should suffer embarrassment, yet still believe, and intercede for Zoar,
and ask to be sent to the city of safety, he will find a place where he
cannot rest on laurels, where it is too close and small for even the best set
The sum of stings of cancelled goals will nightly grow until it explodes, but
not kill, the poor face if not for wine's blush -- volcano
allayed to a rose.
His widow strove earnestly to keep up his correspondence. She wrote,
'Many apologies for our delay. Regarding your submitted manuscript, our
press has ceased operations. Last month, poor Don was decapitated in a
vehicular accident. I'm sorry that I cannot return all
submissions. Best of luck in placing yours elsewhere.'
We shall apply letters to the expression of objects, either single letters
when required, or several letters; and so we shall form syllables, as they
are called, and from syllables make nouns and verbs; and thus, at last, from
the combinations of nouns and verbs arrive at language, large and fair and
If we conceive that a thing, which is wont to affect us painfully, has any
point of resemblance with another thing which is wont to affect us with an
equally strong emotion of pleasure, we shall hate the first-named thing, and
at the same time we shall love it.
Eye of day, or else true salt of earth.
Stop hangings and fryings for awhile; hold off on the next hot war; sit this
waitress down to feast; let kingpins and top-sawyers keep up with her
small wind over water, their daughter's chatter and rustling crib-play come
Let us suppose a boy imagining a horse, and perceive nothing else.
Inasmuch as this imagination involves the existence of the horse, and the boy
does not perceive anything which would exclude the existence of the horse, he
will necessarily regard the horse as present: he will not be able to doubt of
its existence, although he be not certain thereof.
Surely you do not suppose that you can learn, or I explain, any subject of
importance all in a moment; at any rate, not such a subject as language,
which is, perhaps, the very greatest of all.
The boy did not understand what was happening in the kitchen; so, without a
sound, he backed into the other room.
All realms of apology.
Bats, right; throws, right; smokes, left.
X: 'You're an asshole!' Y : 'What I...' X: 'All
right, you're not an asshole. What you said sounded like what an
asshole would say.' Z is their dog.
Row of the tangled beads that grieve.
Cresting fountains rhyme.
In the old African-American cemetery, creamy white gravestones with now
green-black lettering: risen chthonic language.
He later called himself Hans, because it sounded less Jewish. When he
wanted to look smart, he wore a top hat, a flowered waistcoat and white
spats. He ran into debt, forged notes and finally had to flee to America.
The differences between the middle and the left and right traces demonstrate
that the response to the distractor is much reduced if it is located close to
the target in the visual field. Results such as these suggest that lateral
interactions within the frontal eye fields enhance the neuronal responses to
stimuli that will be selected as saccade targets, and that such interactions
suppress the responses to uninteresting and potentially distracting stimuli.
In the mind there is no absolute or free will; but the mind is determined to
wish this or that by a cause, which has also been determined by another
cause, and this last by another cause, and so on to infinity.
a girl up to her waist, her dress flowing out in front. She looks up in
time to see, at a barge's stern, an old man waving a red handkerchief.
This child gushed forth, wild and blue, cord wrapped three times around his
neck, but at last clear-thrusting jags of cries, tangled lacings of wailing.
We were on our way to a party hosted by an allergist and a
psychiatrist. It was a misunderstanding: I had thought she was a
physicist, and I had to do a good job hiding my disappointment. But we
enjoyed a sunny afternoon in the country, and ate pretty well.
So I guess our blood and bones all go underground, but then somebody takes
off our mouths, so they don't get all the earth in them, and put them up in
the sky. With our ears. Because we have to hear what our mouths
Real existence is that for which there is a seeking.
Whoever wants to have children might do well, in my opinion, to choose them
from the family of one of his friends. He will thus obtain a child such as he
wishes, for he can select the kind he wants. And the one that seems fittest
will be most likely to continue in his natural endowment. The difference is
that in this way one can take one child out of many who is according to one's
liking; but if one begets a child of one's own, the risks are many, for one
is bound to accept him as he is.
He stands ankle-deep in the pond's chill, looks out to his father and uncle,
treading water. He can't quite catch what they say. But their
laughs and melodies under senseless words are promises. He looks out at
the bald heads of two small gods.
With the dawn, ten unmilkable carcasses at their metal feeding trough, all
hugely, boats aground in muck, bloated dominoes. But at each end of the
ludicrous line, one live bossy calmly waits its breakfast.
There are also extensive studies of human saccadic behaviors during different
real-world tasks, such as making a sandwich, fixing a cup of tea, or learning
and matching a shape. Most studies indicate that eye movements are
probably made to collect task-relevant information.
With a distant, blue belief, they make their way, lulled by plats and specks
of insects breaking on the windshield.
Stand of dead cow corn, swish of the curled, dried leaves.
Through the whole night like that: standing, arms widespread, grazing
fingertips, one with eyes raised into cave's darkness, the other with eyes
lowered to ground they can only feel; until, at slightest first gray of dawn,
they turn to say they have learned to fill, to know any space.
Beneath the father's fingers, his daughter's forearms. He barely
squeezes to find her little bones, small as a maple's topmost branches, that
network of twigs mirroring the network of roots tousling out far into dark
soil. They reach and thin themselves, becoming silky nebulae of tiniest
filaments floating nearly free, laved in an element more water, air, or
something nameless that will caress her hair and fine light of her bones when
they are no longer his, nor even hers.
The object of the idea constituting the human mind is the body.
'Do you trust me, or not?' X: 'Yes.' Y:
'Wait...Yes?' X: 'Exactly.' Z is still their dog, but
has just run off.
This was the first harrowing experience of his youth. He loved his brother
and suffered with him all through his illness. For months he scarcely left
his bedside and never tired of telling him stories. To all else he was blind.
Indoors and out he lived in a dream; he dreamed his way through family life
Herod dines inside collusion's hearse.
Fury so instant, huge, clear sighted, hard, it bursts through glass. A
will like lightning's. A thousand shards explode -- water
leaping a cataract's verge, seen from a slow distance.
Winter's worth of dust swims in the cottage's air. And every window the
same, lower ledge gnawed jagged. They find it, finally, in that dark
back room. It is curled, quite properly gray on a red tri-cornered
pillow, its squirrel's cheek and flank gone hollow.
When the powerful prevail upon themselves to lend to the indigent, and help
them, and benefit them, in this at last is pity, friendship, and mutual aid,
harmony among the citizens, an end to isolation, and other blessings such as
no man could enumerate.
How can a man say that which is not?--say something and yet say nothing? For
is not falsehood saying the thing which is not? He would be putting
himself in motion to no purpose; and that his words would be an unmeaning
sound like the noise of hammering at a brazen pot. The case of
language, you see, is different; for when by the help of grammar we assign
the letters alpha or beta, or any other letters to a certain name, then, if
we add, or subtract, or misplace a letter, the name which is written is not
only written wrongly, but not written at all; and in any of these cases
becomes other than a name.
Belief, complaint, whispers, loans; how it is even truth.
A hill still rises out there; a river must still wind around pastures; all of
it untouched, just the way.
Proper beds chairs, sofas. How about stairs, anywhere, even one stair,
to haul stuff out of the pit?
The one leaving and the one staying. The one leaving shifts, blurs, and
returns, shifted, blurred. Part of the one having left was left behind,
or a small something was brought back. The one having stayed must
revise, must, because both must eat.
It is in the nature of reason to perceive things under a certain form of
live badly is to spend a long time dying.
One's work in the world -- an office, desk, in a room, ceiling
high and white; screens, messages to pass along; messages make meanings;
letters, one letter at a time placed, hung on a hook of its own, such black
against such white. Such musings.
Prayer-rot lines every conversion's curse.
Eyes pulling spine, which draws torso, head, up through electric night,
until, come level with a mirror, eyes stare into eyes bright with burning,
set in a face distorted by its scream, that red hole.
They fit in nowhere and keep trying to come back, to say they don't deserve
twenty mortal murders, not they, who always kept consciences clear though
half believing prophecies.
Still to see, to hear, things all untouchable beyond this cruelly perfect
glass. And taste? -- a uniform, metallic smear.
Inadequate and confused ideas follow by the same necessity, as adequate or
clear and distinct ideas.
In after years he reproached himself, as though he were partly to blame for
her unhappiness, because he was too young and ignorant of life to know what
went on in his home.
Allowed to go on like this, ready to give back, hauling ourselves and what's
left, each time sorting, unsorting, at their beholding, having to share if
that's what it's called. To go down there, to separate ours from
theirs, ours from theirs, because they'll want it all back.
Inhabiting has to be a truth; permission has to be allowed. Eyes
meeting, pulling clarity from another's mind.
Machine so brave, reliable, that the dagger earlier cleaned and placed can be
It has often been demonstrated that we do not grasp how each thing is or is
not. Sweet exists by convention, bitter by convention, color by convention.
Atoms and void alone exist in reality.
More men become good through practice than by nature.
That morning off the Irish coast the jade sea's breath curled up the dinghy's
sides and floated, silken veils, towards the island, where three hundred
seals moaned their cat-gut joys.
Each pair of needle-linked dragonfly lovers is shaped like a blue goalpost,
broken, slightly tilted, or a country mailbox filled with outgoing messages,
its flag-arm raised, quivering in every breeze.
'I-n-c-a-d-e-s-c-e-n-t.' Letter by letter, again, slowly.
'I-n-c-a-n-e-s-s-e-n-c-e.' Slowly, look again.
© Joel Chace