Signs of Life in 2020

[neil]

The general interest among the small population at large in the
gooey gossip that squizzes out of celebrities is the certainty
that every said celebrity is a bonafide Icarus and nobody
wants to hear last week's headlines about an especially
pathetic burn and plummet in the car pool.

[neil]

Are you working as hard as me, because I'm sweating spinal fluid here.
Malcolm Tucker
IN THE LOOP

[neil]

Only Booth Stallings was in the living room when Georgia Blue entered it seven minutes later. He was reading the editorial page of the Los Angeles Times but looked up and offered her the hard-news section.

She shook her head and said, “I don’t know the players.”

“Same old crowd.”

“How goes the war?”

“We’re being brave. They’re being cowardly.”

“That’s good. What’s it about?”

Voodoo, Ltd. —114

Stallings looked at her but she seemed genuinely curious. “Some say oil,” he said. “Others say it’s about stopping naked aggression and restoring democracy in Kuwait.”

“Since when was Kuwait a democracy?”

“Since the war started.”

“How long will it last?”

“Until the first or second week in March. This country can’t stomach a long ground war with lots of dead American kids. So we’ll get it over with, pack up and go home, have ourselves a nice patriotic orgy and leave the Middle East pretty much like we found it—except for a bunch of dead Iraqis.”

Georgia Blue seemed to tire of the war talk because she glanced around the room and asked, “Where is everybody?”

VOODOO, LTD.
Ross Thomas
1992

[neil]

New York Times: Trump’s Taxes Show Chronic Losses and Years of Income Tax Avoidance
74-94 minute read

The Times obtained Donald Trump’s tax information extending over more than two decades, revealing struggling properties, vast write-offs, an audit battle and hundreds of millions in debt coming due.

Donald J. Trump paid $750 in federal income taxes the year he won the presidency. In his first year in the White House, he paid another $750.

He had paid no income taxes at all in 10 of the previous 15 years — largely because he reported losing much more money than he made.

As the president wages a re-election campaign that polls say he is in danger of losing, his finances are under stress, beset by losses and hundreds of millions of dollars in debt coming due that he has personally guaranteed. Also hanging over him is a decade-long audit battle with the Internal Revenue Service over the legitimacy of a $72.9 million tax refund that he claimed, and received, after declaring huge losses. An adverse ruling could cost him more than $100 million.

[neil]

The two-room, $350-a-day suite Howard Mott had rented was on the fifth floor of a ten-story hotel on Ocean Avenue in Santa Monica. The suite’s living room, now turned into an office, afforded a view of the ocean and the long, long narrow strip of green grass lined with tall palms that was called Palisades Park.

Often encamped beneath the palms was an assortment of throwaway people, whose current euphemism was “the homeless.”

These consisted in part of the deranged, the jobless, the muddled, the addicted, the dispossessed, the senile—plus a variety of other mendicants who ranged from journeyman panhandlers to novice bums.

Santa Monica, a notoriously softhearted town, had at first pitied and tolerated its homeless, even supplying them with shelter and hot meals.

But the city was wearying of its burden and now hoped, maybe even prayed, that its permanent underclass would migrate elsewhere, ideally to some spot far, far away such as Wyoming or Alaska or even Palm Springs.

VOODOO, LTD.
Ross Thomas

[neil]

the morning will come
then at least
we can see
the monsters
that surround us

[neil]

“What d’you want to do with the money?”

“Lock it in the trunk?”

“Trunks take about three seconds to open.”

“You carry it, then,” she said.

VOODOO, LTD.
Ross Thomas
1992

[neil]

I am a Conservative to preserve all that is good in our constitution,
a Radical to remove all that is bad. I seek to preserve property and
to respect order, and I equally decry the appeal to the passions of
the many or the prejudices of the few.

BENJAMIN DISRAELI
Campaign speech at High Wycombe
27 November 1832

[neil]

FWIW, if you have the CALIBRE book reader on your computer(not available for phones)
you will find that EPUB files execute much faster than their fatter MOBI cousins. Jussayin.

[neil]

Educators set donation records, back Biden over Trump nearly 6-1

[neil]

The Cold War was inevitable.
While the "hot" war could not be maintained indefinitely, the psychological
forces that were shaped to maintain it could not be turned off as easily.
As a corollary to the "hot" war, the Cold War
was also inevitably irrational.

[neil]

lurkers
bezerkers
and party people on the be
purples
and purfles
and uncle's spoons on the knee
almost
and not quite
and scenes in the dark
purposed
and worthless
and left in the box

[neil]

University of Utah archives
Individual School Class Photos
April 1937
printing error
1368.768

[neil]

the words you are reading appear in a an area provided for such words,
ephemeral though they may be. the space has only width and breadth,
and those are proscribed. the area has no depth, therefore it is
limited to two dimensions. no thickness, no volume. because there
is no volume, there is no 3 axial space, therefore there is no time.
at this point you may begin to question the weight of content which
can have no time ascribed to it. it could be said that words found
in such areas have much in common with epitaphs.

read any good epitaphs recently?

real epitaphs from real grave stones.

this is like that. words that define a space where something died.

[neil]

i think of epitaphs i would appreciate from time to time.
epitaphs that do not pander to the prevalent cult of
death and ersatz grief. such as

GONE, FORGOTTEN, AND GLAD OF IT

[neil]

i'm coming here often enough that the URL has moved into the drop down menu for the browser address slot.
there is a cat in the room with me, but i'm not sure whether i should tell him this. or not.

[neil]

www.theguardian.com/us-news/2020/oct/04/donald-trump-tony-schwartz-interview-art-of-the-deal

[neil]

every time you read a book
the book stays the same
but
you have changed

[neil]

Metonymy (/mɛˈtɒnəmi/) is a figure of speech in which a thing
or concept is referred to by the name of something
closely associated with that thing or concept.

[neil]

we don't claim to be stars
but we keep comets
for keepsakes
and earn a thousand
new fans with every street date
MARSILL

[neil]

mmmm, breakfast of champions ... cold pizza

[neil]

got my Tom Ford frames, ooh-aaah.
too bad i'm still fat.

[neil]

www.bellingcat.com/uncategorized/2020/08/28/cholinesterase-inhibitors-alexei-navalny/

ke.army.mil/bordeninstitute/published_volumes/chemBio/Ch5.pdf

... and have a pleasant evening,
assuming that you DO NOT READ
these articles prior to bedtime.

[neil]

WHITENESS AS PROPERTY Cheryl I. Harris - Harvard Law Review - June 1993

Lethality, Property, Race: Reflections on Cheryl Harris’s Whiteness as Property - Brenna Bhandar - Harvard Law Review blog - August 2020

[neil]

TOE TAG 'IM, BAG 'IM, AND DRAG 'IM, HE BE DAID ...

[neil]

[neil]

Broom: An International Magazine of the Arts, Volume 1, Number 2, December 1921

via The Blue Mountain Project at Princeton University Library
Historic Avant-Garde Periodicals for Digital Research

HAZI, WIFE OF SENDER SURTUCK.

Konrad Bercovici.

I can still picture to myself Hazi, Sender Surtuck's wife, as I saw her more than twenty years ago. Sender, the Tartar trader, had crossed the frozen Danube on an ox-cart laden with barrels of honey and his new wife. It was her first trip from the marshlands, from the Dobrujdea into Roumania. Her husband had taken her along to show her that he was not without friends in the land of the Ghiaours. We, the children of the house, watched her as she descended gracefully from the cart. A heavy veil with eye-holes was hanging over her face to hide her features from the sight of other men than her husband. But after she had entered mothers's room she threw her veil over her head and we looked at her while Sender was making his " salaams " to the master of the house. I still remember myself thinking that I was happy still to be considered a child, and therefore privileged to see the Cadina's face. Her hair was thick, black and luscious. Her eyes were big and of a deep brown water. Her mouth was like a perfectly spanned arch in repose. She was of a rather smallish build but of perfect proportion and walked with a kind of rythmic glide I have known in only one other woman, besides Hazi, Sender Surtuck's wife. It was late in the afternoon, and Mother, who had taken a fancy to Hazi, much to my delight, insisted that Sender and his wife remain in our house over-night. Sender protested at first saying that he had already made arrangements with the " Chanjii," the innkeeper, yet even while protesting he helped the man-servant unyoke the big white oxen and asked for a vase in which to draw some honey for the table from one of the barrels standing on its bottom in the cart. Surely " EfTendi " Janco's wife would permit him to contribute some sweet gold to the evening meal; and he was sure that the " chiujiuks, " the children, would like it. Only he had not meant to intrude. He was still strongly minded to pass the night in the " Chan. " He had only wanted to say Salaam Haleikam to his old friend " Effendi " Janco. Yet if the lady of the house wanted to show such great favor to his " Cadina " how could he refuse ! Of a certainty Hazi, who had never before been away from the marshes of Tartar Bazshik, would remember to tell the event to her children, if Allah should think her worthy of his grace, and they in turn shall

tell of the event to their children, for it was not every day that Tartars, poor marshland traders were housed in " Effendi " Janco's home. It was a long-winded speech delivered with accompanying gestures and salaams, while the honey as clear as liquid amber was slowly filling the glass pitcher which had been handed to the guest from Dobrudjea. Afterwards Sender went off with Father to the stables. The two had much to tell one another for they were old friends. Hazi was taken into Mother's room. It seemed ages before we were called to dinner. Hazi only lifted the lower part of her veil, up to Uer nose, as she sat down to eat, and she was as much embarassed as she was amused by forks and spoons and their use. She had never seen such tools before. She clapped her hands noisily when she saw how skillfully her husband used a fork and spoon. She had never known Sender to be such a learned man. Why ! he used these tools almost as well as " Effendi. " They must buy a few of them in the store before they return home across the Danube. Sender thought it well to excuse his wife's exhuberance. " She is young. She has never been outside her home. " " But she is good and healthy. She stands me two hundred ducats in gold ! She is the daughter of an 'Osmanli' with blood of ' Chans ' in her veins." But Mother kissed Hazi and said she would be very happy to have her near her every winter. " Oh, Sender ! " Hazi exclaimed with pleading voice. " Allah forbids to promise. Promise is Allah's great -privilege, " spoke Sender soberly. Yet that was as good as promised and the two women kissed again. They both understood guarded speech. After dinner Sender permitted, nay, asked his wife to dance. As a " bayadere " she had no equal on earth, he assured us as he squatted down on the rug near the fire-place to prepare his pipe. And then, Hazi danced to her husband's not very inspiring song. I have since known only one woman, I believe, able to dance as gracefully ; and that woman does not dance. Hazi's limbs moved gracefully in harmony with the movement of her torso which swayed like a young birch tree when the east wind is blowing. While she danced her open palms and long fingers drew intricate arabesques in the smoke-thick air. It was as if her limbs and torso were singing the song of the body. When the dance was finished Hazi flitted with Mother from the room ; marvelling at the novelty of kerosene lamps, delighted by a sound from a piano and almost hysterical when she saw a sewing machine at work. When Sender had finally joined his wife in the guest room, which was next to my own den, they talked away the greater part of the night. She was telling him about all the things she had seen, and he continually impressed upon her

the fact that it was not given to every Tartar to have such a friend as the " Effendi " Janco, who owned such marvels; and that it was to him that she chiefly owed the great honor shown her. " And Sender, you must buy me tools to eat with. They will all marvel at home ! " " I shall buy you tools to eat with and should I sell my honey I'll buy a candle giving ten times more light than a wax candle, yet it is not a candle and burns with the aid of a certain heavy smelling water called ' kurusin, ' " Sender assured her before falling asleep. Sender Surtuck loved his wife Hazi and was even ready to buy a ghiaour-made thing to please her. I could not sleep. I could have murdered the Tartar for the happiness that was his. The love that was his. For the beautiful " bayadere " that was his — lying so close to him, talking while he snored heavify. He was a happy man — Yet, a few months later, on an evening of the spring of the same year, Sender Surtuck killed Hazi with his own hands ; drove his short knife into her heart as she kneeled before him with arms raised above her head to make it easier for him. The story of her death was told to me by Kezhman Ali, the old " Chiaoush " and " Calf an " who was both priest and banker to the people of Tartar Bazhik. " And the Koran says, ' Life without love is like love without life. ' It is death, my son. So you need no longer wonder why Sender Surtuck married Hazi, so young and so beautiful, after he had counted in his life more than fifty times twelve new moons. Sender Surtuck was healthy and strong and therefore he paid the two hundred ducats Hazi's father demanded for his daughter. It was wise of Sender ; for love giveth to life new lease and with each new love man renews his youth. Hale men want to live, therefore they love and seek new love when the old dieth. And it is wise that it happens so and the Koran ordains * that is be so. That is why we Mussulmans have more white bearded youths than the Ghiaours have. This is why we are young to the grave. Consider, my son ! After the wedding Sender and Hazi crossed the Danube. And on coming home brought from the other side silks, and woolen cloth, and eating tools as used by Effendis, and a water-burning candle that gives great light, making night into day. And I, as the Chiaoush, forbade the use of the waterburning candle because of its changing the order of life. It is written that day shall be day and night shall be night. That the sun gives light for the day. " Sender was in his hut most of the winter. He had no trading to do. The bees were hibernating. There was plenty of honey left, and quarters of lambs, and ' kummis ' aplenty. And as the last married man, Sender was entitled to all the titbits of freshly killed animals ; brains and kidneys and tongues. In-

deed it was a winter of pleasure for Sender Surtuck. Plenty of food, a warm hut and a young wife, who was also a ' bayadere ', dancing before him every day at eventide. What more could a man want ? So Sender Surtuck was happy. But was she happy ? No, my son, not always. Not as much as she desired. She was not. For youth craves youth for companionship. Youth wants changes. It is why we have four seasons. Old age would be satisfied with only one long season. When youth walks there is a movement from the foot to the ankle, from the ankle to the knee, and from the knee to the hip. But see an old man walk ! Oh ! my son ; from the hips move his limbs. Youth ' And Sender would not let his wife out of sight. " She should have been playing with the young maidens of the tribe. There was Fatma and Rozi and Stepna and Jahde who danced and made merry and laughed and sang while weaving cloth and spinning wool. And their laughter echoed around Hazi's hut. But Sender would not let her be merry among the girls, for, with them were young men. The maidens were all unveiled and showed their faces to the men, and their bare legs as they danced. And when the maidens were alone there was talk about young men ; praise of youth and strength and repeated talk of love. Hazi longed to dance before other eyes than Sender's therefore her own eyes took on the haze of eyes of men traveling the seas. She looked past Sender s head when she danced ; looked through the walls, and her ears trained themselves to hear the footsteps of the young men going to the maidens quarters. She had seen them on only rare occasions. But she knew when broad-shouldered Kennal passed by the hut. She knew when Osman sauntered by and when Kergez stole up to Fatma's sleeping quarters. So she began to beg of Sender to let her go to the maidens to weave cloth for her husband. Her fingers longed to weave cloth, she assured him. And the kind she could weave no other woman ever wove. For her mother had been the best weaver. And the cloth made for the burnuz and pantaloons of her father and brothers was the finest grained cloth the faithful ever wore. And by these entreaties she obtained Sender's will to let her do as she pleased. But before she had gone Sender spoke to her as follows : I let you go among the maidens and young men. Only remember the law of Kurguzes, my tribe. 'A woman who has dishonored her husband's house is killed by him and her body is thrown to the ' wolves. ' " " It is the same as. with the Osmanlis, " she answered. "And it is four hundred years since a woman of my tribe has so been punished. How long is it since one of yours was so punished ? " Sender did not answer and Hazi's pride in her tribe rose. And so Hazi went forth to weave cloth. There was no evil thought in her mind. There came no evil thoughts to the minds of the young men as they watched her dance ; for truly, they were Kurguzes, each one

of them. Even though she was the best Bayadere they had ever seen, the men feasted their eyes on her beautiful movements, considering Sender a happy man to have her, but were grateful to him for letting her be amongst them and were not envious of him. " And amongst the young men was one Nazim, the son of Mechmet Ali. Nazim's mother had counted twenty times twelve moons since she had given him birth. A shy quiet boy was Nazim. Tall and heavy and clumsy he was. His hair was dull and his eyes had no glint in them. He never sang when the other young men sang and when he spoke his words were like a scant horde in retreat before an enemy. " The Kurguzes are all smooth tongued, being traders. Their words are like marching hordes in triumph, one close to the other and swinging in long lines. And tellers of tales they are and singers and dancers. And the maidens and youth all mocked Nazim. And there was not one of the girls, the poorest of them, not even the one-eyed Ape, that would have thought of marrying Nazim. Not for a hundred ducats would her father have sold her to him for a wife. They thought him a fool, dull, and stupid ; with no will, no mind, no fire. They mocked and insulted him. Yet he never rose in anger and just smiled sheepishly. Though he was as strong as an ox, when at work, he offered no more resistance than a lamb when tussled by the young men in play. And one day, when they had mocked Nazim overmuch, Hazi spoke to the youths : " Why do you mock him ? Because he is not loud-mouthed ? Because he is strong and would not use his strength to hurt you ? It seems to me that if I were to have to choose today amongst you men, I should choose no other man than Nazim. And lam an Osmanli. The men of my tribe are strong and brave in battle, but gentle with their friends and kin. " " Nazim heard what she said and when he made sure that she did not say it in mockery, he looked at her. Something stirred in him and the fire leaped to his eyes and stayed there. A few days later there was much singing in the weaving hut. The white cloth for the old Hagii was finished. And after Hazi had danced the youths began to sing. And there was one voice that rose higher than the other voices. Higher and rounder and warmer. And that voice was Nazim's. So Fatma looked at the youth and saw for the first time what a beautiful mouth he had. And from there she looked at Hazi and saw that Nazim sang to her. And every one wondered why Nazifti had never sung before. " Still a few days later there was a dance in which the young men danced with the maidens. Fatma danced with Nazim and felt the warm glow of his body and the hot flush of his cheek as his feet moved smoothly and swiftly. She spoke to him as they danced and his words flowed slowly but steadily in answer. And there was wisdom, tempered by beauty of speech. After the dance there

was wrestling. Nazim's strength showed itself. He only used half of it to best the strongest youths. So they began to ask one another : ' What has happened to Nazim ? ' For lo !in less than a moon his dull hair was as shiny as any one's. His eyes had a glint, his cheeks color, his mouth freshness and his voice was so beautiful and strong ! He was still shy. But it was the shyness of strength ; the shyness of a man afraid to use his strength lest it kill. And with the steady flow of words also came a steady gait in his lower limbs. And his arms no longer hung limply at his sides when he spoke to people. And the maidens vied with each other to please him, but he had eyes only for Hazi. He took her home evenings to Sendei s hut and even came to call for her and went with her to the youths' quarters. Sender doubted nothing. Why should he ? For would it not be beneath him to suspect a woman of the Osmanlis ? And was it not known that Nazim was only half-witted ? The news of the change in the bov had not yet reached the older people. "And as Nazim walked near Hazi his mind unfolded as a flower unfolds m warm ram after a dry spell. Truly, it was as if she were a second mother, the one giving birth to his soul. The first one had given the shell of the boy from her flesh : and now, that other one was filling the shell with all that was beautiful within her. Or better still, it was like a master potter taking over an ill shaped vase of soft clay and fashioning it over. And Hazi took great pleasure in what she was doing. For Allah had given her a clear mind and a good heart. She did not know what was slowly coming into her blood, what was echoing in it. She did not know that she herself was growing more beautiful and wiser as she gave wisdom and beauty. For wisdom is like a water sprin gthe more you draw from it, the clearer it runs. Their eyes opened to Nazim's awakening, the maidens vied with each other to please him. And Fatma, who had mocked the boy more frequently than any other of the girls, was now the one deploying all her means to captivate him. And all the other youths were now as nothing compared to Nazim. For, was he not stronger, and more beautiful and wiser than all of them ? And did not his voice rise like the waves when the tide comes in ? " Nazim loved Hazi. But, with a different love than Fatma succeeded in awakening. For he was a Kurguz and could not even think of helping a woman to dishonor her husband's house. And so one day when he was walking with Hazi he told her, ' I love Fatma. Yesternight I took the moon as witness that lam to marry her. She loves me, Fatma, she loves me. ' *' Listening to his words Hazi's feet grew heavy. Her chest began to heave and her head to swim., Her arms ached and her limbs pained and her mouth suddenly became like a chimney through which flames were rising to the heavens.

She gave a loud cry and fainted. She herself had not known before what she felt for the boy. It was only when he had told her that he was to marry another woman that she realized the love that was in her heart. Yet it did not come clear to her. It did not happen in the guise of sin. She only felt like one who has prepared the best food, served it at the table, and was forbidden to eat it — yet had to watch the others eat what she had prepared. " For three days and three nights she was unconscious. And her husband sitting at her bedside could not string together the words she said while in high fever. The Hojea was called. He gave her drinks of boiled herbs and roots. But they helped not. Then, early on the fourth day Nazim entered the hut. Sender allowed him to go to her bed-side even while her face was uncovered. For he thought nothing of Nazim. It was as if Nazim was not a man at all. He was so childish. It was the first time Nazim had seen Hazi's face. Pale and feverish as it was it was more beautiful than Fatma's. And by that time he also understood why Senders' wife had swooned. But Nazim was a Kurguz. She was another man's wife. ' Hazi, ' the boy spoke as he sat down near the bed, ' I Nazim, have come to see you. ' Hazi opened her eyes and looked at him. Then understanding came to her and she smiled as she said : 'It is weM you did. I waited for you. I should have died if you had not come. But now, I shall be well again. And when you marry Fatma I shall dance my best, if it so please you. ' " It was only then that Sender heard about Nazim's promise to Fatma and he wondered that so beautifuj a girl should want to marry so stupid a boy. Yet very soon he too like the others learned about Nazim's wonderful unfolding. And every one spoke about the miracle. And it was as clear as day that the prophet had kissed the boy's brow in his sleep. " Hazi ceased to weave cloth and kept to her hut. When pain and longing overcame her she prayed and fasted and begged Allah to take her to himself. When Sender was not in the hut she cried and sobbed and called out Nazim's name aloud, ' Nazim, my Nazim. ' " After a while news came to Hazi that the wedding between Fatma and Nazim was set for the second moon after the snow should have been melted and drunk by the soil. At times she rushed out to the door of the hut to meet Nazim and tell him that it could not be. But the teaching of her mother, of her faith, forbade her feet to go farther. She was Sender's wife. She then felt remorse, and because of that she overwhelmed Sender with greater love and gave him more frequent caresses ; to drown her passion for the one she loved in the flesh of the one for whom she had no love. Yet every time she did so she rose in the morning with a feeling of having committed a greater sin

than adultery. For she sinned both ways. Sinned in her mind and in her flesh. The caresses she gave her husband were meant for Nazim. " The snow began to melt, the days lengthened. The howls of the wolves became more distant every night. The ice on the river melted and the birds began to flit in the naked trees for worms and grub between the folds of the bark. " Neither was Nazim happy. His wisdom had brought too much sadness in his life. He knew why Hazi was never seen anywhere and he longed to see her. And he too prayed and cried. But he was a Kurguz. Another man's wife is another man's wife, and a promise is a promise. ' For it is better not to save a man from death than to break a promise to a faithful one,' says the Koran. " Then, one evening, when Sender had again gone away to sell his honey, Hazi waited for Nazim to come out from the maidens' quarter. She only wanted to see him. But when she saw him she could no longer hold out against her love and throwing her arms around his neck she cried : ' Nazim, come, let us run away to the land of the Ghiaours where we could be happy.' f ' Nazim drew his head from the noose of her coiled arms and spoke gently but firmly even while his great body shook with fear lest his passion be stronger than his faith. 'It could not be, Hazi. You are another man's wife.' " But she would not hear of it. Fidelity, faith, teaching, training, had been melted by love as snow is melted by the sun. She had him come to her hut, and there, in the dark she threw her arms again around the boy's neck and kissed him ; burned his cheeks with her hot lips. ' Nazim,' she cried, ' you must be mine.' But Nazim was a Kurguz. ' You are another man's wife, ' he said, as he pinned her arms to her sides : ' Allah has given me wisdom to use it for his praise and not to dishonor my kin. And if Allah has willed that I suffer because of that, it is Allah's will and not mine that I must follow.' ' Allah ! Allah ! ' Hazi answered. ' Nazim ! Nazim ! Have I brought luster to your hair that another woman should play with it ? Have I brought fire into your eyes that another woman should feast on them ? Have I tuned the chords of your voice for another woman to hear it ? Have I brought warmth to your limbs that another woman should feel the touch of them ? And whatever there is in you other women now love, it is I that have given you and I call it mine. And wisdom has come to me that Allah himself thinks it sinful to give caresses to other than the one you love. And I love you, Nazim. L,et go of my arms that I may touch you.' ' I have promised Fatma.'

' Never, never will you be Fatma's. It is me you love, not Fatma. It is sinful to marry her. I shall not live to see you marry her. And you shall not marry her after my death. ' " Till late in the night the two sat together and talked, but when Nazim left the hut his faith had been stronger than her love and his own passion. He went to his hut with her last words ringing in his ears, ' Nazim you shall never wed Fatma while lam alive. And you will not wed her after my death. For my love for you is stronger than my faith and my life and the oath I swore to my husband and the teaching of my mother. ' "The snow melted rapidly. The women were now ready with Fatma's wedding dresses. The maidens were merrier than ever. Their quarters were gay from sunrise to late in the night. The bees began to stir in the combs, and the mares dropped colts, the eaves lambs, and frogs were heard to croak in the pools. " Two more weeks to the wedding of Fatma to Nazim. One more week to the wedding of Fatma to Nazim. Two more days. The Hojea has been brought from Cerna Voda. The horses are being trained for the races and stunts. The women watch Fatma day and night. They teach her what the prophet has ordained a bride must know. She must sit for hours and untie complicated knots and disentangle thread without breaking it. She is taught patience and submission ; the two great virtues of a wife, next to fidelity. She is taught to smile and laugh when in pain. She is taught to listen to speech without answering. For it is no little thing to be a wife !To be both useful and sweet. To be like milk ; to nourish even when curdled by time and warmth. "The day of the wedding Hazi sought out Nazim and spoke to him again : ' Nazim,' she said, ' I cannot bear the thought of giving you away to another woman. I can not bear the thought of another woman's bare arm around your neck, of another woman's lips on the lips to which I have given life. Those thoughts are like dull knives cutting my flesh underneath the skin. Nazim, there is still time. The anger of Sender, the hatred of the whole tribe, the shame of Fatma, even the blasphemy of the Hojea and death are nothing to me. Come, let us run away. And if the men overtake us we shall both die, if Allah so wills. But I can not bear the thought of your being another woman's husband, and I can no longer be Sender's wife. So it is with you that rests my life or my death. Speak !' "For a long while he looked at her (she had thrown her veil over-head) saw that her cheeks were sunken and pale ; that her eyes were red from much . crying and little sleep ; that her arms had lost their roundness, and her fingers no longer kept together, but twitched and coiled one over the other as twitches and curls flesh over open fire. And his own heart battled against his mind ;

against the wisdom she had given him and which she now asked him to betray. Then tears came to his eyes as he said : 'It can not be, Hazi. It can not be. lam to wed Fatma tonight.' ' You will not!' she cried, beating his chest with her two fists. He let her do as she pleased. He would have let her drive knives through his heart if she so wanted. All of a sudden she ceased. She became quiet and cold, looked at him for a while, then she begged : ' Kiss me. Oh Nazim ! Kiss me on my mouth once only. The first and the last time. Kiss me, Nazim.' "He ran away without turning his head. A woman is a woman. Faith and teaching are nothing to a woman when she loves. • Love is her faith. But Nazim was a Kurguz, a man. " The night o£ the wedding. The earth was dry and warm. There was a large circle of small fires around which sat the maidens and the youths. Within the circle, in the center sat the white bearded Hojea, in new white vestments, and around him the people of the tribe. The men on one side and the women on the other. To the right of the holy man sat Nazim and to the left Fatma, dressed in silks and atlass. A white veil pinned to her hair was ready to be thrown over her face. After the evening prayers, I, as the Chiaoush, read the marriage contract. Six horses and four hundred ducats in gold Nazim's father had asked to be written in as price to Patma's father for a wife to his son. " After I was through reading the Hojea stood up and said so that everybody should hear : ' Is there anybody here who should not be here ? Whose heart is full of anger, whose mind harbors evil thoughts ? Speak. • Thrice shall I ask the same thing before pronouncing Nazim and Fatma man and wife. Before taking the moon as witness. The moon and the stars, the children of the prophets. Is there anybody here who should not be here ? ' 'I,' shouted Hazi, ' For I have dishonored my husband's house and I am ready to pay for the sin with my life.' " Even the fire ceased cracking when the Hojea sat down and covered his eyes with his hands. The others did likewise. Hazi rose from her place and walked slowly to her hut followed by Sender Surtuck. We held our breath until we heard a loud scream from there. May Allah be merciful to her soul. And then we turned around. Nazim was dead. Had died without a scream by Fatma's hasty hand. " Hazi was still alive. So before dying Hazi told the truth to her husband and to the Hojea ; that she wanted to die that her death be a bar to Nazim's wedding. " So if you ever meet Sender Surtuck, for he is wandering aimlessly from

place to place, talk kindly to him, my son. Don't look upon him as a murderer. For though Hazi had never sinned in the flesh, her sin was still a very great one. May Allah be kind to her soul, and forgive her since her love wa s more to her than her life which was his, Allah's, the only one, and Mahomet's, who is his only prophet. "And ever since that night young lambs are dying, horses grow lame, and mothers' breasts are dry. And there is much crying in our tribe. There is no song in our youths. For each one of them is losing his youth. And they are slow at trading. Their speech is too slow. For every man that buys must pay for the speech of the man who sells. And if a trader be dumb his horse is lame. But if a trader be smooth of tongue the lame horse is clean of limb and the blind horse sees. And there must be joy in selling if it is to bring profit. But selling what is yours to buy food with gives no joy, and therefore the speech is 510w... It is like showing the speed of a horse with reins checked short. Consider, my son. If you ever meet Sender Surtuck..." And Kezhman Ali, the " Chiaoush " and " Chalfan," the priest and banker of Tartar Bazhik, wept bitterly.

[neil]

Spent a few hours stripping 91 banner photos from pages of an Icelandic site because I liked their images
and wanted to jam them into my monitor slideshow. After a couple of dozen photos I began to understand
that Iceland is a small place with a small airport and everything is small. This is refreshing. If you're
puking sick and tired of America's obsession with size, Iceland would be a true tonic.
It's not big, Iceland. It's ... well, it's small is what it is.

[neil]

Notes on Pathogenesis
Blaise Cendrars
Action: individualistic notebooks of philosophy and art
Volume 1, Number 1, February 1920

As a special chapter of a general philosophy, pathogenesis has never yet been attempted. In my opinion it has never been approached in a strictly scientific way, that is to say objectively, spiritually, intellectually. All the authors who have dealt with the question are full of prejudices. Before researching and examining the mechanism of morbid causes, they consider “the disease in itself”, condemn it as an exceptional, harmful condition and first of all indicate the thousand and one ways of combating it, of disturbing it, of controlling it. suppress, conceiving a priori health as a normal, absolute, fixed state. The diseases are. We don't do or undo them at will. We are not masters of it. They make us, shape us. They may have created us. They are specific to this state of activity which is called life. They are perhaps his main activity. They are one of the many manifestations of universal matter. They are perhaps the main manifestation of this matter of which we can never study except the phenomena
of relation and analogy. They are a transitory, intermediate, future state of health. They may be health itself. Tracing a diagnosis is, in a way, establishing a physiological horoscope. What is conventionally called health is, in short, only such a momentary aspect, transported in an abstract plane, of a particular case already crossed, recognized, defined, finished, eliminated and generalized for the use of all world. Like a word that only enters the Dictionary of the Académie Française once used, stripped of the freshness of its popular origin or of the venusterity of its poetic value, often more than fifty years after its creation (the last edition of the learned Dictionary is from 1879) and the definition that is given, preserves, embalms it, although decrepit, in a noble, false and arbitrary pose, which it had never known at the time of its vogue, while it was current, alive, immediate, health, recognized to be very public, is only the sad simulant of an old-fashioned, ridiculous, motionless disease, something solemnly old-fashioned, which stands vaguely upright in the arms of his worshipers and who smiles at them with his false teeth. Common place, physiological cliché, it is something dead. And it may well be death. Epidemics, and more especially diseases of the will, collective neuroses, such as teluric cataclysms in the history of our planet, mark the different periods of human evolution. There is an elementary and complicated chemism here that has never been studied before.


I enjoy Cendrars poetry. This whatever-it-is ... well, it's French. Implicit in that
denomination is both its strength and its, potentially fatal, weakness. Vive la différence.
bluemountain.princeton.edu/bluemtn/?a=d&d=bmtnaab192002-01.2.10&e=-------en-20--1--txt-txIN-------
translation via Google

[neil]

TIME: Spring Break.
CRIME SCENE: Two mutilated bodies, Home Depot supplies, and a bunch of old View-Masters.
FORT LAUDERDALE COP: Not again!

GATOR A-GO-GO
Tom Dorsey
2010