One has just been sent out as a biblical dove, has found nothing green, and slips back
into the darkness of the ark -- Kafka

Saturday, October 25, 2014

Thomas Bernhard's Gratitude to the Swiss Drug Companies

From Concrete:

Now that there's no longer anything in me for the surgeons to cut out I'm entirely reliant on these medicaments. Every day I thank Switzerland and her industries on Lake Geneva for the fact that they exist and that I consequently exist, just as no doubt millions of people daily owe their existence, however wretched, to these people in their glass boxes near Vevey and Montreux, who are more denigrated than anyone else today. Since virtually the whole of humanity today is sick and dependent on medicaments, it's hardly too much to ask that it should reflect that it owes its existence, in the largest possible measure, to these chemicals which it so often curses.

Palms, and the Line of Reflection at the Water's Edge


 

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Halloween Door






XMAS LAUNCHPAD: 2014

You've got the freighters like mega santa's sleighs (some looking like floating cities in the morning light) lining up to the horizon [not pictured]. You've got the floating trees already on the Launchpad. It starts earlier and earlier.

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Jesus Clouds (Oct. 18, 2014)


This photo doesn't reflect the essential cloud-piercing rays of light, but they were there. I'm an amateur at catching Jesus clouds in action. I tried.



My On Ramp: VERTIGO, WELCOME TO LA, LA LUZ

 
 
 


the forest, the virgin forest, the life of a woodcutter...

This phrase, originally mouthed by the actor (whom Bernhard's avatar hates), becomes something like a philosophical mantra toward the end of the book, and reminded me very much of Heidegger's Holzweg = woodpath. A quick google didn't connect the two and I don't know if they're using the same German word, but my guess is: Yes.

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I've been saying The Woodcutters (a slip on my part because it's right on the electronic cover in bits or bytes) but it's Woodcutters.

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Finished with Woodcutters and have started Concrete.

Ending of Woodcutters:

And as I went on running I thought: I'll write something at once, no matter what -- I'll write about this artistic dinner in the Gentzgasse at once, now. Now, I thought -- at once, I told myself over and over again as I ran through the Inner City -- at once, I told myself, now -- at once, at once, before it's too late.