Samuel Beckett, Molloy
The Spencer Davis Group, Time Seller
David Bowie, Live Santa Monica '72
White Stripes, White Blood Cells
- Hey, I finished Molloy and reviewed it (3 out of 5 stars) over at the Goodreads:
Molloy is funny in the flattest possible way. Bike tire flat. Like, "the idea of a joke is itself a joke" sort of funny with which you can curl up for a long night of starring at the darkened wall of your empty soul. A little like a pratfall except you get to watch the damage of the fall slowly spread until the faller is eventually permanently incapacitated. Hilarious! Read more!
- This David Bowie live album from '72 is the nazz. The nazz, y'all.
- I started to talk about a bunch of things I haven't written and then erased that and reformatted this post as a numbered list, and then added this back. Exactly why, while agreeing that Tao Lin's online mask is cloying and a little aggravating, I think Tao Lin is onto something.
- One of the best parts of Molloy was this numbered list toward the end, partially repeated below:
- What value is to be attached to the theory that Eve sprang, not from Adam's rib, but from a tumour in the fat of his leg (arse?)?
- Did the serpent crawl or, as Comestor affirms, walk upright?
- Did Mary conceive through the ear, as Augustine and Adobard assert?
- How much longer are we to hang about waiting for the antechrist?
- Does it really matter which hand is employed to absterge the podex?
- I mean, antechrist? Absterge the podex? Sweet Mary's ear? This book's the gift that keeps on giving!
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