A child is the greatest thing, Larkin, you fucking prick.
***
Iceland isn't so far away. The shores spew the same.
The houses hold a summer of progeny And the related tribes hold their separate sessions.
***
"The wonderful port of Greenland," so says
the tourguide, in his head a shivering cactus.
***
Don't worry about the mountain, It is kinder than your worries.
Man in his early years Got stories of its cloudbrow.
But now time has come to walk, O factorywatch vessel, Waking to our sweeping The bright flood of space.
From my boardwalk habitation The father from the sea On a sunny day, looked at me With blooming eyes, as those Around us drowned-out the sea. Another fragment: the city.
Our house is very beautiful at night.
Oannes
fragmented into city states
RECEPTION
For want of a thought I wrote this down,
Remembering Blake And your moving shadows.
How can it be wrong? The flow of a series
Of words as a series Of sounds: I won't forget you,
Always-here angel, How could I -- as you are
Here and so it is. Seems it's been a long time,
Old ghost, Since someone put a pen
To a paper for you. But it's alright, I tell you
-- The painting of sounds, Just underway -- from
The Shaunbritten formal To the Shemspoke o' fleurs
-- Inject all the grace, Sin -- loving and waiting
As your brainheart regards To come from your netherspace
And listen and herald The calm from your shipmate.
("Malcolm Argos") If you or I told it, the joke wasn’t so funny. But Charlie made it hysterical by sticking in these sounds; so you would hear the gun cocking, the duck flying overhead, the explosion of the shotgun and then the duck falling and screaming all the way to the ground.”
--typing: riding into the future
bonfire of office furniture
the Ramses Hilton
INTERVENING DISCUSSIONS
Tianjin Ferry -- 11:00? 13:00?
Line 5 -- Huixinxijienankou -- A exit
--who lives in each home? write the correct number in the blank.
Birdsnake means snakebird.
Man sees holes between ideas -- in the mode of, say, "wood --> nails" --or "sun" (shadow) --> "time"
...mammoth... Roman... classroom... building... flatland... Shanghai... mouse and human genome substantially the same
Mary's house is on the water...
SUMMARIA
"A cabin is a shelter made of...." (In Korea with the kids, putting together sentences)
"[where]...every word she's playing has a connection to her orphan past"
"start homework now"
land-prices
"The next time you talk, I'll send you out, too. Okay, Eric?!" (father of Leif?!)
history of man --> classroom
Why are you punching Roy? He punched you first? Well, now, stop punching."
"Dennis, get out."
--brings him to talk to lady in charge after class
bushbuck
STORIES
roots are of waters gods telling things future (as past)
dustgreen (waterblack)
China Telecom
--reading the fishes golden head of wet sky surfaces, ripples
Emperor -- blowing up boat of friend who forgot
(Leaving Las Vegas)
dusttoad emerging from the sandstorm, stars to forests
The Pacific Secret Poseidon of Original Eastward Odysseus
--little stream; sun's garden; Le Shan -- 12/2/10
POEM
Build a linkshell with the players in Eorzea today, and you’ve got yourself a group that will probably stick around for a very long time.
a limited root stream
sea-princess
Godafoss
"...stronger waters... a thousand keys"
"gonna be another hour here at the fjord before back, uh, we are back in the open sea again"
DG make shape .... free space for your hair
Message to Busan
Me & Poseidon never got along too well, Days at the beach, turning away, seeing what Mom Was saying, he'd trip me with a wave, chastising My presumption with earthly concerns, as a bomb Validates, in the court of the too-happy king, The castrated anarchist -- or in the tree-fort Of the dry, safe library, I'd find him there, too, Laughing in the encyclopedia, a port In the storm a too-near tease to wave-wrapped, home-due Mariners, docking at last in a watery Grave. What a cruel, mad father! -- with his government Of dusk, landscapes mute, squiggling lives following Dimly in dangerous rays the impulses lent By the kind-flying sun, that neighboring nation Airlifting food in daily doses, his dark clouds, Attempting each time, heliosphyxiation.
It's nicer up here, I must say: here in our crowds Of mountains and trees, houses and cars in the sun -- And while he returns, in sea-lunging winds, typhoons, Up here one walks places, can talk to everyone -- Can heckle his growls from the safety of the dunes; And with the relative freedom of shifting shores, Can plant new gardens of talking -- done with sailing For the time being -- as we sit and stride the floors Of our elevated rooms, shells in prevailing Winds from the turning mountains', forests', secret gates To the sea, in-league all along, in ten thousand Tangle invisible lines -- the dangling bait Of the salt-heart's self-love, rising to flood the land We worked so hard to win, our boat-quays, our towers Safe-locked into land-lines, and happily wind-struck With voices conveying like freshwater flowers
The signals for beautiful winged things to drink up The fruit of the roots in a weave of rich netting Cohering from storm, peace, whole, sparkling with sky, mud- Souled symbol of its own surviving -- resetting The tidal rhythms to our own green or blue blood Climbing in branches from sea-like transmissions, sunned And starred and moonlamped and growing, stronger, stranger From the original, photovoltaic, shunned Law of the father of our beginnings, danger To our kind with each passing day -- new birth Ensuring we breathe under water no longer Than nine-or-so months -- fortress of the mother, earth Our great bracing enabler of bridges, diamonds Over the bay -- strung across darkness, and only
now does it seem I am coming to my point -- me and Poseidon -- we were probably always going to have problems -- Grandfather in the NAVY sent right down in the flaming waters -- never to be released -- but in his old age, he was more or less mellowing out -- retired at the top floor of a five-star hotel -- in his very own penthouse suite -- his name in the political arena -- which you could say he helped keep interesting over the years -- a household one -- and he sounded genuinely contrite when I chastised him for all that trouble he was causing in Indonesia and New Orleans -- "no excuse this time, Poseidon -- it's not like the days when you hated the Greeks" -- but he's still bitter about that -- still planning problems for all known descendants -- though his efforts grow more futile in a credit-based economy -- and one night I tried to convince him -- overlooking the night-sky pantheon -- the sand below -- kids glowing with drinks and fireworks from 7-11 -- there's no need to die alone.
and pushing the gaze through the sea of the surface
of trees of the letters page-grown and seeking
the seeding for something, a flower in the window,
a flash on the page like untouched flesh.
UNEXPLORED MINES
-- affirmations of love beautiful tits I think I would be in heaven to hear more
like childhood again, the joys
crystalline wavelets of sun on cloth
through the golden oil glass carafe
ATHENS
Lying there in the dark reincarnation
came up -- and how surprising it is most people happen still
to believe it -- reflecting perhaps the persisting
mythologies -- the wishes of widows, children
under long trees, wishing for new games
or a different neighborhood, I
suggested, and she, turning
a little, agreed, as the breathing
night bloomed
us between the peaceful coastlines, but --
then I said, but
maybe there's more to it -- like, life, being
apparent only to the limited senses, I mean,
matter's elegant patterns are one
thing -- but the idea of the soul's not
so silly, you know? We debated a little, but
we tired -- it was late -- and by the time
the next day came
our minds were on to other matters.
MY EYE PHONE
"...that was then..."
--telling an endless tale--
"...this is now..."
floating designs
bound in this particular
angle of light given off by moving
grammar-wheels
of the story
("made no sense when I brought it
out of the dream"),
map, but not of my journey,
copy
of the first
copy of the first
copy,
"[b]eyond that half-opened
door"... "Here I am" -- as the middle
-name component of my personality suddenly
appears
and a world opens up, inbent, outlooking,
ego-heliocentric but partaking
of the party of others,
a photograph of a snowflake
falling from the Middle Ages
to our present Iron Age,
the laughing loris
speaking the turtle’s language
learned of the birds,
and suddenly it’s all as if
water has been thrown over
a floor of dust to reveal
a mosaic of beautiful creatures.
IN A ROOM AT NIGHT
I had thought the thought
as highways, spent, burned,
blended with ocean, desert cliches,
but chided myself
for spending the day that brought me here
in music penless as if proud
without transcription in the day's mirrors.
Too tired for it now, with a voice
in the dark bright as the field
I range when my eyes
close, egging the hand
on -- the sheet is as blank
as the sky sailing
me out of sight.
POEM AS KEPT WATCH
"if you work hard you'll remember things other people won't remember"
--so said Gramps, giver of speeches, speech from his head giving
nearly predictable but not quite -- he traces and retraces -- patterns
that send us over and out of the slavery of conditions
and thoroughly back into the zone where we remember how reading
unknits the dead gaze, leaps
the slow moving hand takes back through
a page packed with meaning
a hardworking motherer.
A POET
He lived for a line, silent in an armchair
watching the kids talking, searching around in his head.
I used to send him things, sometimes he'd reply,
Then he dropped off the map for a while.
Recently I heard from him, though. "Would you stop bothering me?"
So I did, and came here to tell you about it, the next generation, anyway.
---- Indo-Greek ......
lizard, lamb, fruit, butterfly (patterns on kids' clothes)
----- ,,,,,,,,
COLLECTIONS FOR A COLLAGE
espresso eccellente & Greeksalad &Frenchfries
in Marco Polo before flying from Armenia to China --
Sunday afternoon
sweet sleep light orange tablecloth
woman in flowing dresses on the screen with glorious secrets.
...some trial trenches...
EAHTR
...forgotten and neglected region...
"unshakeable roots"
"But in the period of reconstruction that followed the victory of the North, power in the South fell once again into the hands of the old ruling families, who saw to it that the disloyal Appalachians were starved of resources... railroad... quarrying of coal... felling of timber... tourists... radio... to the ears of most Americans in the 1920s... 'A and R' men... New York or Hollywood... Arkansas to Alberta... Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers... 'New South'... 'sunbelt', as far west as Texas and Arizona."
"...where you can watch all your current episodes..."
--bunches of grapes in a mountainous sky on a box in a bus
chugging through space with voices
powerlines mountains
in the window wind
from the city and back
dreaming of the cheesiest pizza man with shattered hair
helping on a little redjacketed schoolboy watching the same road,
rubbing the heads, flying down, golden shining
motes of dandruff
from a new haircut, in the cold city sky
mountain environs
--men selling hats, meat
electronics watching
the helmeted greenjacketed men -- needing
to be getting elsewhere
friend calling a friend
"he knows English" --thinks in his language
forgetting personal stake
a mote drinking milk
with cellphone songs never finished
being talked being soaring
with strings in a vessel
resounding getting work
done for beauty
homemade-pie for little daughter
watching SPACE WARRIOR
with dried grapes from the harvest
friends, drinking
no-one knowing
so many sight to say
I've seen -- he throws
his bottle out the window
and changes the song.
HIGHER STANDARDS
You smell like shit! I was alone before this,
Eating a sandwich In my head and having a good time.
moon on wing, child in language across barriers -- space, time --"beep" -- in the big room where the sun is and the balls, swooping
JIAOHE
Sunset on the old city, I walked from the family well, Full of characteristics, Past the government Temples and clinics, Sat on a bench and watched it.
Thought, song, tree, birds, in the trees, breathing,
-- eating a strawberry cracker,
composed, golden stones
believing in nothing but what comes-- a waste of life by virtue of living from belief before, confirmed, rooted
THE ELEMENTS done, night -- dawning.
Old brother (not older) sorry to have forgotten yore glory but we always suspected -- told again
CLEOPATRA (tissuebox brand) -Greek opportunity for overtaking godhead (Egypt was flesh place for it)
"As God Wills" (in "good time")
Estrella Archs
=== ---- Focus... ..Florus... --Homer Dubs (theory of golden idol from west)
POEM WITHOUT SCALE
the transference of a ring the sharing of an orbit
with a figure that attracts
...hardly exists...
between folds of the Map
-- containing them --
and the Map hardly does -- floating as it is
between wings and a spine
-- joining them together -- if you are here
to breathe it in -- don't think too
hard on the winter colors sucking
summer out to final drowning embrasure
-- or the vanishing dance party,
the voices of a family
that gets history right (likes each other);
or carbon dating.
POEM
The theoretical apparatus of a dream vocabulary
winces in the field the wind
created in the eye
moving, a constant streaming of unknown
letters, unreceived, unreplied
to -- the mistaken encounter --
the stain on the jacket in the mirror,
sunflower seeds scattered
over the black splay of the scarf
-- what endless reaching
down through any word, image
breathing reveals not
stories, down there
seething, the inevitable creatures,
of random genetic drift.
Secret Track
In ... life it was okay
to revolve from highway to home
and back in, born in
the yellow house, ride and remain
here. Rise and fall. Harvest.
***
Choosing carefully is only half the battle, To speak nothing of winning the war; the rest
roams the lands of the stores and the books and the bookstores.
We loved the albums because they contained us, things
we couldn't understand on first listen.
Somewhere to dwell for an hour or a season.
Something Else was winter; Is This It the summer; And ah! the Exile spring; and I remember -- Amnesiac fall.
Back with you in this room -- try and give them all a place in the 4-track-mind, touring the country with as many wheels.
Somewhere Over the Rainbow in a McDonald's in Beijing:
conversational sandwiches, sudden reflection
ravines, the music
spilling in, filling and draining again;
-- winter outside, the children caroling in the ceiling sharpen the imagined
wind over the Pacific or the Himalayas; from the Black Sea and Rome;
Christ on a bun,
With love, From the Forbidden City.
***
So the world is filled with light and leaves dancing naked
in the wind, so what -- so I'd like to see you naked in your room; there it is. So.
So the mind, allowed time, allowed space, to branch and shed layers, is as perfect as a beautiful body
or more
is as worthy of premature ejaculation as the interior of a beautiful church. "The coolest motherfuckers
on the planet." So they wander like apes in search of a grotto -- so they've forgotten worship, warship, Washington hygiene
-- resume-sense-or-ship landgauge -- so they've seriuosly (though not intentionally) spat on most welldressed samaritans
in most cities; so they have more children than they can count (penning, brooming); so Mom back in Kansas is mad; so they've broken
their cameras -- they are singing brothers, on a raft, in a flood -- taking time, leaving
then. So there they are -- masturbating to projected pictures
of dark matter in an ocean of imagined loves.
***
--as clack, twinkle, jumble and hush, fill the spaces in and around sunlit light
as ramble, stone, mumble-bonk traffic, inform the waiting and confusion endured by mind
--ambiguous frogs, miraculous jays if not save, certainly tell why, what
as wind -- in the light -- over towns remembers the wars in the papershards, blown
-- from the mazy, sweet, righted, unknown particular day of daydreaming
-- girls on the phone, shadows of leaves, birds, everything as it is
-- except your reflection on the surface of your tea under which the leaves swirl, silently.
***
***
BUS AS GALLERY
if your voice in this place continues through towns, from the city you were born in to the one you are moving to, does your voice over pictures make of the gathering forces a meaning: a network of things said, with things seen?
"As when the Western... horses" pass through the deserts wishing for valleys; and move with "erected ears" through the fields of the foreign sounds; ... ...
"I've been fighting them for years: nightshade, thistle"... ..."It's all right"... ...intertwistings ...
"...down in the whole world's books... Praetorians... I owe for the flesh in the tongue I brag with. By heavens! I'll get a crucible and into it, and dissolve myself into one small, compendius vertebra. So." (MD, p.447)
***
Pole/iron/rope : 3 Fates/inseparable
"a really good database"
"The Romans build ROADS to bring the stones into the city." --P.Dave
***
"...and hooped round by the gloom of night they seemed the last men in a flooded world." (MD, p. 469)
***
What if it becomes nothing? What, like a star? This song
nothing at all. What of
of the other beauty -- so much of it -- never to be seen -- impregnated --
-- but the saddest men are the Hercules -- masters of each corner of the world of grandeur and majesty
-- drunk on cake they've eaten, too.
Only one kind of animal can hear, let alone
comprehend this.
***
How about this? Given up on trying to hold on to all of the fragments
floating away
miscellaneous inbox
a girl in winter
CHARACTERS OFFSTAGE
Talking, not on the map, about it.
These jeans were bluer once, little one.
(((From 1972)))
Come on, my friends, Let's make for the hills. They say there's gold but I'm looking for thrills. You can get your hands on whatever we find, 'cause I'm only coming along for the ride. Well, you go on your way and I'll go mine, I don't care if we get there on time. Everybody's searching for something, they say. I'll get my kicks on the way.
Over the mountains, across the sea Who knows what will be waiting for me? I could sail forever to strange sounding names. Faces of people and places don't change.
All I have to do is just close my eyes To see the sea gulls wheeling in the far distant skies. All I want to tell you, all I want to say Is count me in on the journey. Don't expect me to stay.
(Story of the 3 Brothers) "...Horatii pirouetting on one sufficient steed" (Seamen clustered together in the forecastle)
Transporting an office by bicycle -- the rolling chair, drawers
--hotels and stadiums pass by
--tied down; stopped at a light, smoking
-- the old body working
getting the boring brain pieces in place.
"Up to 40% of microfinance funds get lost... ...developing countries text more"...
"dived down into the churchyard grass" (MD p.459)
"These tents are strong and safe as well" (teaching English in S. Korea)
"You would still show up before I would"
...Cere Bellopontus... ("a common site for the growth of acoustic neuromas or ...") ..."clustered" (see above)
Neoclassical
Iwasdirtyinthecityagain
and found a place behind the bushes
through an overgrown gate
of a courtyard to hide
from the eyes of the traffic
to write and to sink in the deep
smell of myself -- more or less
to myself -- though some birds
kept exchanging vows on a branch overhead,
and a woman spread childrens' pajamas
on a line from window inthe sun.
On top of this, four different languages
were combining in a passenger
jet coming through
the serrated noon clouds above
the color of gas-station coffee
and the knowledge
of this kept me
from truly enjoying my filthy city
life, my stolen Ionian
jungle of exile.
THE SIGN
nothing could be lonelier nobody thought they spoke the same language the debacle of the Seine receding
KERRYTOWN CONCERT HOUSE
PASTERNAK
African primitives, Oriental graphics
living 500 pages a minute
TELL ME THE TRUTH ABOUT LOVE
Cocteau's Parade: "ragtime... a Chinese conjurer, a NY theatrical manager, an American girl, automobiles, trams, films, airplane engines"
--scroll of a stringed instrument
--profusion of images, but no fusion at all
for now
whitefire disc in the distance darkness
ROOTS
deep the fluencies finding ways in mother and father ways your underknowing knows
the inventions of exploring
neoclassical species
eternity junction
HISTORY OF ELECTRIFIED GRAMOPHONES
neural preserve
78 rpm
pleasure and procreation and beyond
and the dark universe outside
(inside?wild jungles and goldandblue rooms)
--Crowdedtogether on the shores of Lake Zurich and Geneva was a motley collection of pacifists and munition salesmen, rich men and revolutionaries, artists and secret agents, German husbands of French wives, English wives of German husbands.
(pre-48) WAR (over the) COW ... (post) --> MOON
REVIVAL CENTER SHOE REPAIR AND SHINE CENTER theater of symbols
the painted word
healing scroll
"I completely agree with everything you just said"
CASERNE MARCEAU
snakes and rabbits
ruined walls
the five different branches
stumble-stride
"We haven't even thought about stuff like that yet" ... "We have to like go to meetings"...just graduated from the unconscious... "Can I call you later tonight or something?"
"Depuis que tes yeux sont fermes les miens n'ont cesse de pleurer" (AMON FILS, WWI)
the young woods after wars
though long before a house divided the heaped mixed bones of French and German ...
O, those who gathered the scattered seeds and bound them in one containing vessel ---
Arctic Supreme for Emily
Don't look for the pain
to leave just yet: a poem,
like a load-laden mother --
her broken back disguised
by the thousands of flowers
woven herself
-- is coming, is coming
-- like manifold fruits coming
on the back of a truck
through the blown stone
tunnels and choking channels
to land at your door, gift
of the light, coming
after living
on darkness
and the airs of doubt.
[[[["DECODER"]]]] Broke and barely able to speak English, he lived with fellow students in an abandoned house on 140th Street in Harlem, subsisting on bread and bananas.
In his first week, Dr. Xu was mugged at knifepoint. “In the Cultural Revolution, I go through a lot of hardships, so that’s O.K.,” he said.
RELAX IN KFC and try damn hard to write a poem. A cold wind
over the roadside
bottles, labels
dreams
of the transcendent, goddammit -- relax,
and drink your fish-soup coffee -- to be fair,
though, perhaps it is not so different
from roadtrip gas
station brews. Remember --
across Ireland or up or down
the opposing coast of your eastern haunts
-- whatever combinations might be
here; at the far end of this hall
you call your trip east -- your golden, enfolding,
cloud from the mountain
of information, secure
in the fortress, the room
the fireplace in the library
-- or what room would you design?
-- was the question I believe
was put to me in broken
English last night on the train
-- none of it seemed necessary
-- but how much of speech is?
"Why didn't we simply use pictures?"
-- I thought -- crouching in the shitter,
grimacing in grime, to the light
behind the film-obscured
window -- but my answer was already there:
a thin stream of talking -- the thread of the water --
descending from the arched mouth of the faucet down into its own
--I give Western versions -- but some of the oldest banter is in the Chinese opera -- and the shittalking pearlfishers before them -- and their riverbound wives (compare to Phoenecians) -- full of the hoops, loops of conjectures -- and assurance -- into the dusk; how would you know they would be stonemouthed corpses, lying just at the foot of the Bryant Park station
where not long before you left you met a new friend -- (had bonded over phonies on the roof -- then morning newspaper donuts; chess in the [real] park) -- made fun of this Russian sellout -- telling his Sino-Russian lovestory -- to a crowd of swallowing fans -- by the skyscraper skislope -- but far from that shore where free from your stories, for once, you drove with a friend and made raps, the mind puzzling these glyphs
together in spite of the cold wind -- and before he mocked you in the bar of carseats -- where you could have launched down many roads of the possible with your other friends, but were imprisoned in reflection, resentment, and still dreaming of what you could have done better -- but it wasn't the first time
-- and you knew to eschew it, and took up your friend's offer of going on bikes -- he had with your help brought down from the north -- eastward, to a mythical mountain of books, somewhere past Flushing...
(paths twist elsewhere)
Yet the city continued to flourish culturally until the mid-seventeenth century with painters like Rubens, Van Dyck, Jordaens and Teniers, the sculptor families Quellin and Verbrugghen, printers like Moretus, the famous Antwerp harpsichord builders, etc., etc.
In those days of poor glory, dirty and chowing down on bodega chips, sodas and sandwiches, agreeably stuck in this village among villages, garbage, on the south side of Brooklyn's Broadway, at the mouth of a train tunnel: escaping when necessary to the NY Public Library (or ride the rollercoaster at the southern reaches towards the waves)
: you were an animal of books, and the border between the page and the city in reality; where are you now?
For all intents and purposes, at various blind moments you could be in a Philadelphian fastfood place on Market St. -- except for the trans- actions conducted as they are in Chinese, and your knowledge of how far you've come -- and how far you still are -- but this confluence is too good -- you feel you must note -- before getting back to the cold unknown
city outside (for how many times have I found myself in the corner of a multinational food outlet writing down thoughts before they move elsewhere) -- and how many of these moments combine as one -- so that, waking up here, to the group of males watching, on the verge of laughter, my frenzied concentrated scrabbling -- to the sounds of "May-O"
occurring in echoes -- then "Ni-Hao" -- then various dramatic expressions cycling between.....................................................***
"Animals roughly correspond... to the mudlayer"
--spiraling clusters of attributes; the city of possible encounters
...
(old man with tea; Le Shan; singing)
east to middle-east melodies tense up
till you get to the Atlantic & Mediterranean areas -- relaxing again
***
Build a linkshell with the players in Eorzea today, and you’ve got yourself a group that will probably stick around for a very long time.
The Twelve Titans: Oceanus and Tethys, Hyperion and Theia, Coeus and Phoebe, Cronus and Rhea, Mnemosyne, Themis, Crius, Iapetus
Children of Oceanus: ...
***
coeur en sabot (on să-bo´) a heart whose shape on a radiograph resembles that of a wooden shoe; seen in tetralogy of Fallot. ...
Only eyes don't blaspheme (regarding her beauty)
On the other hand, an apple is masculine for Germans but feminine in Spanish, and so are chairs, brooms, butterflies, keys, mountains, stars, tables, wars, rain and garbage.
[Middle English trowen, from Old English tr owian, to trust; see deru- in Indo-European roots.] trow [trəʊ]. vb. Archaic to think, believe, or trust ...
'Here are we met three merry boys; three merry boys I trow are we!'" Scot August Night; The Age (Melbourne, Australia); Aug 11, 2004. ... wordsmith.org/words/trow.html - Cached
Trow \Trow\, n. A boat with an open well amidships. It is used in spearing fish. --Knight. dictionary.die.net/trow - Cached - Similar
Joseph Marie Jacquard....
...where... his town... would weave... But the river...
.................................................................................***these poles -- I'm convinced we're all farmers stemming back to a field -- of the same stream, more or less -- and the bovine and then mare, species of species.
Greeting ourselves in the stars.
KAK LAK MAK NAK PAK SAK TAK KAL LAL MAL NAL PAL SAL TAL KAM LAM MAM NAM PAM SAM TAM KAN LAN MAN NAN PAN SAN TAN KAP LAP MAP NAP PAP SAP TAP KAS LAS MAS NAS PAS SAS TAS KAT LAT MAT NAT PAT SAT TAT KIK LIK MIK NIK PIK SIK TIK KIL LIL MIL NIL PIL SIL TIL KIM LIM MIM NIM PIM SIM TIM KIN LIN MIN NIN PIN SIN TIN KIP LIP MIP NIP PIP SIP TIP KIS LIS MIS NIS PIS SIS TIS KIT LIT MIT NIT PIT SIT TIT KUK LUK MUK NUK PUK SUK TUK KUL LUL MUL NUL PUL SUL TUL KUM LUM MUM NUM PUM SUM TUM KUN LUN MUN NUN PUN SUN TUN KUP LUP MUP NUP PUP SUP TUP KUS LUS MUS NUS PUS SUS TUS KUT LUT MUT NUT PUT SUT TUT
The origin of anatomically modern Homo sapiens and the fate of Neanderthals have been fundamental questions in human evolutionary studies for over a century1, 2, 3, 4. A key barrier to the resolution of these questions has been the lack of substantial and accurately dated African hominid fossils from between 100,000 and 300,000 years ago5. Here we describe fossilized hominid crania from Herto, Middle Awash, Ethiopia, that fill this gap and provide crucial evidence on the location, timing and contextual circumstances of the emergence of Homo sapiens. Radioisotopically dated to between 160,000 and 154,000 years ago6, these new fossils predate classic Neanderthals and lack their derived features. The Herto hominids are morphologically and chronologically intermediate between archaic African fossils and later anatomically modern Late Pleistocene humans. They therefore represent the probable immediate ancestors of anatomically modern humans. Their anatomy and antiquity constitute strong evidence of modern-human emergence in Africa.
Sugar Teas
How is it all here? That cloak, the old tear-box, names laughed from man and woman to the child?
How is that brightness they spoke retained on the page and breathed again under the standing-by clouds? We woke
up already yawning, waiting again by the elevators, the mysteries of coming back here again as clear as the shadows.
So how was it you passed in that same stage coach, twirling your knife like a breeze running over the same meadows?
"It's as if we never left," you say again -- as if we ever left.
ADAPTATION
stems of legs of trees in woods
plots into subplots
waterdrops
--what are you doing tomorrow?
"laughingly alive in five volumes" [acts]
Paul, etc.'s boat journey
tonight's game is proudly sponsored by peanut butter cups
another commercial taking place in the subconscious, wherein one office guy dances, while the straight man, the superego, looks on in disapproval.
MORNING GLORY VASE
It's not even 1 yet -- the cafe with light, pages turning, phonecalls, reading in cups, cross-outs: friend bound to Greece, tales -- Shakespeare in China -- operatics.
-- buzzed, vines --
changing complexions till we meet in the city -- slaapenkamer living, sitting, Fat Tuesday doughnuts morning talking -- arriving from far away his warm light in the white dark room door closing.
The story begins with a ride to the airport. Describe the scene. Scrollwork of branches through the rearview mirror, friend driving, explaining, "She's really psyched... working for the Red Cross... has a lot to do with records..." How suddenly the great room of the highway, fields, towns, cities, cars, in the car all represented the great store of digitized moments, or the movement through the brain itself, as big as the space we swim in, or bigger. "Archetypes and the Psyche," was the name of the lecture by "Cristo L. Bowers" at the "Center" for "Growth" -- and I wrote (the poem above) on the back of it, that time we had been here together. We were on our way to bring our friend to the plane that would take her safely to San Francisco... flyingly over... hills on hills -- bound beyond... "I can't believe he's going away..." and I just talked to him on the phone, he sounds a little nervous about the whole thing, a one way ticktet to Athens... Actually we were just talking about driving HER to the airport this time, but that means we have to learn how to drive stick, and wondered whether we could learn in time, "You know how to drive; you're almost there" -- and then I cite how I know how to drive a tractor; and now she pulls up the picture of me in Greece driving it; how Erhard had had to teach me; how actually my anxiety seems to have been in place already, with regard to authority figures talking down to me; so that I don't actually feel as bad anymore about the Japanese restaurant. By being here in the same cafe we sat at I was reminded and so that was what made me call him. Now the same Red Cross girl is in New York for the weekend, going wedding dress shopping with her sister, and the friend who drives her, as well, to the airport explains the pictures she posted on Twitter. Such is a sample of the layered moments, of Greece, airport-drive, and cafe -- and now she has just sat down at her computer again with a drink strikingly similar to the "frappe" that woman in Greece made when I was visiting my other friend, up around Volos...
I've nothing for this this mess to arrange but to save it all up in as little lines allowed -- to show -- I'm here still ...
interlaced
head too full of other things
happens like that,
in heaps
pages of life
Iron Age theories
Eurasian metalwork Frankish samurai
backdrop to the Mass
cybernetic data products
journal of civilization
"'must have flooded her'"
PLEASE PARDONOUR CONSTRUCTION AS WE PREPARE TO BETTER SERVE YOU
the undiscovered interior field
"time was a memory"
SEED STORAGE
How to Cook Everything
("call Shane with references")
231 Little Lake Drive
sparkle-pond duck goose languages
"Grand Meaning ... in his shards & chainies"
Adventure & Resolution Homer Obed Brown
A day of living room rambling, a headache, walking outside Waiting for another inner space to open up
climbing this ladder of dreaming out the window ...
Margaret C. Solomon
"and pornographic videos are not rented within Village limits"
WATERING THE HORSE
sex
food or war or nocturnal encounters
"I don't know what else to call this series of fragments"
PICTURE PLANE
around alleys of black walls
relaxing to musics in head domes
white tones
herding traditions
the visual field of the sun
BOY SELLING ORANGES
no grand vistas
I sit here on this broken car
complex, complicated Africa
her next meal
breaking through the patterns
wife, maid, mate -- friend?
beer on Saturday
...this being a research place...
WASTE MANAGEMENT
oldest inhabited... mall -- traditions of speaking
nets, hooks, and lines
we're surrounded by them
made out of a wild thought
formed in prehistoric times
born today -- yes, here
FISH WITH BORDER
lighting up the house
sun through the bowl
towns and villages along the streams
my compuer a happy animal
greeting me returning from long sleep
"and the commonplace work [depicted] can take on a metaphysical cast"
COUNTRYMAN
he's a man in a suit, looking to his flourishing poet self in his past in the corner of the dirty cafe his other, too much himself strapped-in either way but one wearing cars and computers the other inherited leather like an aviator's with laboring pen working into the soul the seed ... a brightness or freedom in the teeth of almost-not-making it a job is only a job this is a calling space on space ... the angry weave fraying in the teeth of angels
-the electric filling of the donut, sending you islandward
...childhood wishing...
from photographic vessels to humanhood
Basque mothers ... mountains ...
SIZES OF STARS
--it's a relief to be here though I still feel there is some thinking to be done thinking about the unending feel in its now yet while here watching that changing light in the trees
I'm trying to write a novel about events, narrated each the world
dull ape sitting up here watching trees
alive dummy serving the public.
[became] distinct from one another in the great river valleys
your yard is the land around your house
I've got so much
to leave, just a blonde teen amateur slut riding cock
proceed anyway!
OPEN NERVES
$ % ^ & * ( + _ endings
"my thoughts... on such long and intricate errands"
Spectrum's history
BOOK SEARCH
million book project internet archive open content alliance project
Gutenberg
come on you let's go you people are waiting people are waiting
Bitches Brew
EAR RINGS
extension eastward of the stairway
took us so goddamn long to get here and you remember little
more than cartoon hieroglyphics
DROPS FELL AND BROUGHT ALL THE COLORS OF THE SUN INTO DAUGHTERS AND MUCK... seeds in hand, and planted around Mother... clavier, cart, code: gold/record... VIDEO-D 53079-D: "America, America" ... Flood/Wales...
WHATEVER COHERES
Whatever coheres here was meant for this tree There's no such thing as nothing --only sun, seedling, sea--
So that squawk, mumble, clack, bag of plastic, corduroy hills, In the window have their place -- and whatever coheres here's
Heard as another emanation from the general herd Head, stakes of the poetry lottery, a song in a tree
Or another -- in the window of the grain-fed, salt-sustained "Dios mio!" of seeing, knowing -- grain of Seattle
Supersonics, Mustangs, Sega Genesis, Jade Dragon Mountain, Port- land, east and west
founded. Sweet waking flowers! Works of ghostly poets! Who invented the wheel? Homer
Was the reel deal, but only one sprouted stem of seeds of stems
--on our news reel -- anyone willing to pay for the space can have a voice
here -- the ship-dock equation is German and Asian -- as we lose our rules-- our
capitalizations -- just wanting to speak here! a song in the land, a voice on the ground, the library, overfull,
teems with contrary rhythms, at the same time, spines unmatching, but rows and rows,
rows of sense, the lovespeech, rocksongs, waterfalls, herdspokes, -- the waves, oats and oil -- the argument
with America, the Indian bride, the chaotic attractions, Philadelphia, New York, cloud, lightning,
key, New Jersey, Serbia, Michigan, rocks, wires, snow, Colorado, Ted Talks, a bear again, sweet as the honey
his head, rare and true, equipped with forests and jungles in his photostream, ready to talk, walk, disappear...
fishtank -- temple -- (Beijing complex -- away in time -- appearing in the mind in the car -- talking brews -- “flavors mixing and mellowing out together in the aged bottle” -- the twelve chairs -- one with jewels -- somewhere in the world -- the glowing head of the lamps before the house -- parked in the cul de sac -- back in town again -- visiting with old man -- who shows me his guns and tools) -- man with woodandpaper wings -- on Trader J bag -- in Uncle Sam's garage -- site of sheepshearing machine -- old turquoise car) -- down the street in the kitchen --
“Maybe she is here now” -- hopefully not a skeleton
-- so much goddamn language
to get out of me.
-- thought = sex -- thoughts = bed
-- world, around
-- that’s the best, when yr on the verge of dreaming with someone,
“-- the ladies, once you know the way to turn’em truly love you.”
-- island attitudes, -- stranded with thinking, people.
Oh, yr happy, But in yr hall of mirrors In the real hall of millions.
The Diamond Sutra of the Chinese Tang Dynasty, the oldest dated printed book in the world, found at Dunhuang, from 868 CE.
He sent Conrad, Archbishop of Mainz, to Tarsus, and the terms of union having been signed by Leo and twelve of the bishops, among whom was Nerses
-- degree of sin of thinking of past as not good enough? -- “you were here” (say the ugly-faced -- god-spirited -- angels in the decor) -- “and that alone is amazing”
As the families talked chaos insinuating property a boat appeared in our midst -- I walked a while But -- “g’now” -- things Reappeared -- configured, in fountains, -- in villages, squares within cities
-- old witch voice surviving in technology
The Bible of Bieff
Aspiring queens; dinner parties; princes stoned
POEM
-- looks are dark -- looking for light -- through turning corners -- through windows -- in the cleaner streets
“The thickness of walls guarantees… collection”
Orchard High wall Arcades Courtyard Coat of arms Latrine tower
“encyclopedia-manuscript-maps”
St. Croix, grandson Lozenge Alluvial Famolens, Flon (streams) Tufa
Archway, piling
“musical scores and treaties”
DEEP MOAT
Loopholes blocked by stones
Nobles of Berne burned castle 2x
“rebuilt the ruins”
Receiving: HC “inherited” fear of spiders from H. Ford; story’s stress on music and movies (of esp. childhood); older bro?
Creating: C. Mapps: “high art” references; anxiety of influence à Picasso, Joyce, Dylan, Kubirck… younger sis?
POEM
this is the whole world, speaking
birds watching water.
“I’ve had it” -- one says -- walking under the ceiling
of wiring nobody sees but all feel.
GALLIA
-- about to embark but lolling on a dock by green water by another waterside fortress now to stroll and sit with coffees and talk at another village city town of seedy baker-moms bed-merchant dads -- options; traffic past the old fountain almost raining signals coke and cheap cheese, the streams of different species of seagulls -- dialects of shores -- the screaming children, over there somewhere…
POEM
Wall, fly: other nounverbs: take, high five!
Other words: beautiful stupid little puppy, roads, road kill. Life: elaborate ways to not die.
Building
towers, falls: mist-aches: thinking vs. doing.
Packing a lunch of whatever for the visit to the Pantheon.
POEM
watching the truck in the dark glowing and the brother of the driver yelling a word in a structure in ruins in a suburb and in his house after a warm dinner and children watching TV
POEM
Destroy the self -- love it so others hate it -- save your self a seat to better enjoy the film
-- Debaser! -- God’s storming -- destroying-preserving -- throwing the Hyatt up and back down --sending grounded towers to the ground.
POEM
To a groomed monkey,
Grampa Teenager! back from the moon, no more time for your grumpy desire, I’ve drunk of the beautiful, and I am grateful, you goldsmith! Failed clown! Why not be the Aristotle-Mammal we’d always dreamed you’d be, on wheels, truly loving women (so they’ll love you back) -- no age at all -- one man, on the New York-Hawaii-Turpan Turnpike
Down in the green valley of days of early waking in the bottom of the mind, hidden in the texts…
The Wall
A rainy night, lights blearing through the rain-starred windows, and ____ and I are in the backseat, while somebody’s parents -- actually some strange hybrid of people (this subsequently becomes clear in the dream) -- drive us somewhere in a city. It is dark in the backseat. A voice in the passenger seat belongs to the mother, her face obscured, even when she turns to us, but we can both hear and see the father -- his bright and pale eyes, and he is, quite literally (according to this hybridizing dream-logic) a combination of my brother, Henry’s father (I remember seeing him in the rearview mirror like that once before, quietly talking as he drove us in his comfortable leather interior around Philadelphia), and James Joyce; maybe a dash of my own father, as well. Some figure of knowledge, authority, anyway. As it stood, though, the overwhelming presence and personality of this driving father in the dark city, was Joyce. Taking advantage of this chance meeting with a famous genius, I spend most of the ride leaning forward from the back (where _____ sits quietly, lost in the passing lights) asking him to tell me more about the nature of this journey we’re taking, why we’re taking it, since that seemed to be the subject of the ride, anyway -- to find more out about the nature of the ride itself -- perhaps under the influence of all the talking about Europe I’d been doing with Europeans. But somewhere inside the web of places -- I had been to so many already this month alone -- it seemed we were busy trying to get a sense of exactly where we were, but the scenery kept changing. Then more than anything the Joyce lecture was a mix of the Greek history ____’s father had also told me (feeling like Telemachus, on the edge of the giant glowing bay below) when I was in Greece; of things I’d been musing about about my European experience so far -- my own surmises; and of stuff I’d been reading about Finnegans Wake, whether from Joyce himself or from others. The talk went roughly as follows:
The Hole
“You may find yourself in a village, and the houses have yards with gardens, or sometimes the yards have animals. But if you want to talk about the symbolism of my work, what you’ll get is an urban maze. A clock, a castle in the old square the towns circle about.” (Then he directly referenced a discussion, recently arrived in Amsterdam, that I’d had with Boris -- in charge of the creative branch at a public access TV station -- about why there might be so many more uneducated people in American than in Europe.) “In Europe, you are never far from a city, whereas go deeper into the heart of the States, and God help you. At least until recently. But at the very least you will find God, or his handmaidens, there. Some say civilization at least survives through the Scriptures. The Church fathers, the reflective nobility, the crowd of monks in their chilly, firelit stone closets, in their frigid or tumid towers of imagination, taught us: Jesus Christ overcomes all borders and biases. The aboriginal hero of globalization. And his hustler Paul. So if you can count on one Platonic ideal to survive the barbarisms of the frontier settlement, and many times to give it its ultimate justification, it would be the fertile Abrahamic seed of the proto-Muslim crescent, that bizarre yet certain fusion of Greek and Hebraic and Sumerian elements, in the high-noon glare of Roman hegemony -- or one may say, in light of subsequent reflection, Roman Hegel Money -- planted in the garden of the emperors and their giant backyard of peasants, and out sprouted a Pope, and the western mind!

“The players in Mankind were the ancestors of the King’s Men and the… dramatic tradition…”
“(One could, in fact, imagine having a conversation with ‘Mankind’ himself in the street.)” “…emerged from the shadow of Latin and French and… the last thousand years. The stage is now set…”
DO NOT THROW RUBBISH OUTSIDE
Hyla arborea - European tree-frog
Five Continents Male Hospital
“locked Japan”
“Chinese garden landscaping had a huge influence on the European Romantic [Movement].”
“building mountains… “[with flowing water]…”
(THE SHORES OF CITIES)
“got a light?”
Vegetable & animal sources…
…culled from the ruins of a novel…
…kuzuhm (raisin - Uyghur)
(So’vietnames)
Family English
(some random Georgian scrawl)-- ß rivers
OKEAH (Cyrillic “ocean”)
Grigor Lusavoritch St. (13A)
“Freedom cannot be conceived simply. It is a mystery and one which [a novel], even a comic novel, can only be asked to deepen.” -- F. O’Connor, ‘62
Bus 51 // 27
EAST - WEST GATE
(written in Chinese: DONGXI street)
Ox Cart
…boat…
“…dirty garden enjoy your tour visit…”
Ma-chit (mosque) à market?
“…incident has two competing version of events, according to Callahan, who sa…”
A few words…
--dwelling houses; auxiliary buildings; parks, etc.
Thetis
Oldest paper: Chinese à Armenian
--“everything agreed with the contents of the paper”
(the words were the words as words exactly)
…Scribe Martiros…
HIS PRECOCIOUS COLLEGE THESIS
“The secret currents between ancient, mythical, medieval sources -- and the synchronic, well-made, modern dramas -- that is the end of the present study -- to apprehend this piece of the Indo-European structure of consciousness -- the mother, the horse, the twins, and the rebellion against monsters and kings (by kings and monsters), and the eventual absorption of classes into all levels of the struggle.”
-- talking, talking as fragments -- of priest, warrior, farmer (comedian/poet/politician); (king/merchant/lawyer); (architect/doctor/administrator)… : note the arbitrariness: how they all be in each others’ categories…
…scattered linen weavers……………………….……cellae
--unbound wheat…
Old Man Gate (by fountain) ……Porte ancienne…..
…upon so wide a field…
…ancient tongues…
…approaching the golden heart… …when telling story of going to Yerevan Russian consulate…
NARRATIVE: FK//FW …………………………famous wreaths…
(picture of boat) HALLOA!!!!!!! (across lands… Netherlands, Armenia)…
…storytelling deities…
Terraconch design… (with appendices)…
Japanese couple\ FIRE MOUNTAIN STORY
“a short little old body like me, should never undertake to wade out into deep waters with tall, heron-built captains” -- Carpenter, Moby Dick
“a fly on the wall of the Tower of Babel [that was Shanghai]”
“Bearded forecastle of N’s Ark”
“try to become acquainted with our garden”
W & E … NOTES
[ Accordion ] “Apple vodka, guitar”
--Tatev, 11/18/10
ISLES ///// FARMS
…gold…tea… --gold rim of cup, four children gathered round it/table
Son(g)s of Fathers
“Let’s all get married and be happy”
An African in Iceland
--Romans A/C - mountaintop ice
--only imagination true to the script
--grazing path to the Ferris Wheel
--those first exciting days on horses over the mountains in multicolored garbs of what we thought of (as universe): pre-proto-Euro {{some post-Afro-Asiatic branching into: Proto-Sino-Tibetan/Indo-Euro}} “sparkling mineral mountain water”
“spontaneous literal process”
Main building // outer building
“the shame of the dream lasted until about the middle of the day”
Sparkling mineral mountain water
Oriental archipelagos
“a great cry for life-boats”
Kathakali
KAFKARS n O w --wherever you are --these city walls --living in smoke
“the wondrous old man”
“tracing his old course again”
--work my vocation
Evolution of Cary Grant/Hamlet
--N by NW
--wanted across the European continent… host… must escape to Shanghai with his lover… stolen treasure…
“--designed for a company of strolling players”
“cheese-shaped mass of densely bedded ‘sheaves,’ or layers of concentric spiralizations, without any hollow but the ‘heart’”…
Elegy on the Death of Grand Prince Juanser (Armenian Middle Ages)
SOVIET EMBASSY
Baghaberd (On a hill above the confluence of the Voghji and Geghi rivers (N of the road) stands the castle of Baghaberd*, with double walls and strong towers. It became the capital of the Syunik kingdom in the 12th c, but was finally sacked in 1170 by the Seljuk Turks.
-- throw numbers to the wind!!!!
“My mother … knew almost by heart nearly all the poetry and all the ancient tales and stories [then to be found… in print]…in the evenings to us her children stories… in the next evening whoever of us repeated best… night before… --Chavchavadze, Autobiography (translated by O. Wardorp)
Beider-Meinhoff complex
The English Language institute
Language resource center
(4) -- gathered round the fire, listenin’ to Pop-Pop’s war-stories (homecoming/history’s story)
Spurge family
The Spurge family (Euphorbiaceae) is a large family of flowering plants with 300 genera and around 7,500 species. Most are herbs, but some, especially in the tropics, are also shrubs or trees. Some are succulent and resemble cacti. This family occurs mainly in the tropics, with the majority of the species in the Indo-Malayan region and tropical America a good second. There is a large variety in tropical Africa, but it is not as abundant or varied as in these two other tropical regions. However, Euphorbia also has many species in non-tropical areas such as the Mediterranean Basin, the Middle East, South Africa, and southern USA.
“…mountains where they went piling back, growing darker and more savage until they finished with one jagged ridge, high up against the west. Curious secret mountains; he thought of the little he knew about them. ‘What’s on the other side?’ he asked his father once. ‘More mountains, I guess. Why?’ … ‘Well, no. At last you come to the ocean.’”
--The Red Pony
Apple-box holding tin-lantern
Franz K., The Castle
“And not when after finishing his walk in the stable the coachman walked straight across the courtyard with his slow swaying gait, closed the large gate, then came back, all this slowly and meticulously, focusing on his own tracks in the snow, then locked the stable behind him, and all the electric lights went out -- for whom should they have shone? -- and only the opening above in the wooden gallery remained bright and briefly arrested one’s wandering gaze, it seemed to K. as if they had broken off all contact with him, but as if he were freer than ever and could wait as long as he wanted here in this place where he was generally not allowed, and as if he had fought for this freedom for himself in a manner nobody else could have done and as if nobody could touch him or drive him away, or even speak to him, yet -- and this conviction was at least equally strong -- as if there were nothing more senseless, nothing more desperate, than this freedom, this waiting, this invulnerability.”
--a brief history of Chinese fiction
//sounds of numbers beeping really a man at a table by a river writing “letter(s)” to his wife
…journey… in search of… scriptures… [Xuan Zang] -----see: Biography
--what is referring back NOW is OLDER than imagined past (Imagining past as act of future)
--“before I was a word I was a sound” --T. Harrington
“…passengers traveling with infants…”
“theophonic”
Lunch in the Fishing Village (everyday)
--homoplasy
Bluewhite (Gr) à Greenorange (Ir) - chair in Le Shan
workbasket
To Henry C. -- a little heartbreak makes you each time a little less of a fat smiling weasel
“one of the strangest communities in N. America” --copy of Gatsby in Tbilisi courtyard homestay
The Shore àMt. Doom
--in fact the birds got it right (American “gol” [today]) & man brewing tea à (sun)fire w/ fire… àextinguished in temple… “Fuck You Rome! Chuck Sumer!”
Medieval golden age --monks glowing deep behind black holes of cloaks --farmers in far valleys the kings couldn’t find
Death of a (clown) house…
--minium
“Only found time to work on the sequel at night… forced to put the project aside.. WWII… 12 yrs after he wrote the first paragraph…” --Inklings
Bar as temple… (as continuation of “original” grove of peace/thought) --then a fight breaks out
… The Eagle and Child
Imagination not part of world of visible objects
--come with me, we’ll travel to infinity… (“Gravity’s Rainbow”)
Greek records … Phoenician script as enabler of technology (reflection space, manipulation space)
--a baby in the 8th moon
--Amsterdam, Tatev… --at the edge and beginning of Western waves; brothers in cities, mountains
King asleep in the garden (Hamlet and In Our Time)
“His beginnings were more hot-dogs”
Orchestra-tapestry-fountain
--how to tend the wild vine
Historic crops of s/w Asia: traveled to s/e Europe
Frik, Complaints
(pen name; real name unknown). Born 1234; died 1315. Armenian poet; representative of humanist anticlerical poetry. Frik was the first Armenian poet to write in colloquial medieval Armenian. Some 45 of his poems have survived; they express the thoughts and aspirations of the people and their hatred of feudal oppression and the Mongol yoke. Such poems as “Complaints” protest against social inequality.
--sung out something
--taken a long time to get here --these perfections of notes (motes’art)
--potherbs
Orontes coast (Antioch)
FK: Castle / Trial: enumerator, from light to dark, encountering people of neighborhood -- following “proxy” -- turns out already spoke with, didn’t know… maze of paperwork… calling payroll hotline (one day inexplicably getting through)… nice pregnant lady (suddenly Bacchae-angry)… “might have to fire you” (in Pre-K room, about pen v. pencil)…
“_____ O., visiting his girlfriend in the Mid-West, received a phone-call one sunny day, while drinking coffee and reading French poetry, that training for the 2010 Census would begin at the end of April, at All Saints Church on Throop Street in Brooklyn, and that dress was business casual and to show up… So he would cut his visit short, having no other source of income, and return to New York within the next two weeks, in time for the training. When he arrived to the location, he waited in a large, medicinally-lighted room -- to both sides of which panels had been erected to create classrooms -- as a few… read names from a list…
Kingwool serve-ant
Four Royal Warrants
Man and his horse
penetrating walls after the ravaging of orchards in her bed dreaming a floating book
“At the end of the novel, the era of sorcery ends and an era of humans begins.” (re: Tolkien)
--diaries of the time
--Persian angel-worship
“navy-blue lambskin…”
Feather Weight
“still deep in a dream of siege”
“Recognized by actors”
On Theater & Folk-singers
--Giambattista Valli
Nerses (Armenian) also wrote a number of sharakan (hymns).
“like my best girlfriend recording and reminding me of things”
(Anik) “mingle & tingle”
“What’s this book about?” (entering book bazaar)… corner of dark room, under street
..and other things made of gold
“…down the river, rolling and bellowing, came Mabel’s cow…”
Birds -- bright over the valley
(written upside down) 1992
“brilliant ideas soon materialized”
--Mozart Concert Hall Waterfall
--Going serenading
“the destiny thou spinnest for me shall be mine”
Masked actor -- (text as; building as; text as building as) --
Game of Life --Balderdash
15:42 - 16:12
Ruins Oil Press Defensive Walls Old Gate/Spring East Gate (entry) St. Holy Virgin Church Ruins Stables/Student Dormitory Pilgrim Inn Museum Cells & Rooms
__[^^]__[^^]__[^^]___
Belfry Peter Paul Church Arches Mausoleum S. Grigor Church Gavazan Refectory Kitchen Bakery Bishop Residence/Office Bath 18th-cent school
Beijing Gate (Ancest Temp) … White Marble Sumeru Base
Sumeru is the polar center of a mandala-like complex of seas and mountains. The square base of Sumeru is surrounded by a square moat-like ocean, which is in turn surrounded by a ring (or rather square) wall of mountains, which is in turn surrounded by a sea, each diminishing in width and height from the one closer to Sumeru. There are seven seas and seven surrounding mountain-walls, until one comes to the vast outer sea which forms most of the surface of the world, in which the known continents are merely small islands. The known world, which is on the continent of Jambudvipa, is directly south of Sumeru. … … From this point Sumeru expands again, going down in four terraced ledges, each broader than the one above. The first terrace constitutes the "heaven" of the Four Great Kings and is divided into four parts, facing north, south, east and west. Each section is governed by one of the Four Great Kings, who faces outward toward the quarter of the world that he supervises.
(Beijing temp cont) --Animal Sacrifice place --Police Station
(Day in Beijing) The Eastern Ocean Center... International Hotel of Beijing... Horse Under Palm... Forgotten Waltzes... Farmer & “Dell” … Christmas Tree Lobby... Other Waste... Battle-brand bicycle... Mao in morning or sunset clouds, looking like a dumpling-doling mother; guarding the gate... dragons regularly repeating from the walls and roofs; prows of ships... rectangles floating against giant communist temples: beaches, ports, forests, farms... down the strip of bronze lampposts: taxis, buses, bikes, cars; well-dressed couples with cameras: transport... Woman at seat by bicycle of newspapers...
Some impressions from Beijing today: the portrait of Mao, in Tian'men Square -- fat face set in a pink and blue sky, looking more than anything like a kindly dumpling-doling mother -- somehow it strikes me as purposeful, not making him too tough-looking, but like someone the people can trust and think fondly of -- or he was in the beginning a librarian's assistant after all. Most Chinese, if they don't express a positive opinion of him, hardly ever (at least openly) talk badly about him. Crowds circle the area constantly; the Square is also always filled with traffic on all four sides; across from Mao two giant rectangles looping high-resolution scenes of China's landscapes -- men on camels sillhouetted against a red sun; families going along smilingly in lush valleys while they farm (from the train I saw crouching middle-aged ladies using bamboo buckets on poles to throw dirty water over their crops -- manage, unlike America, to generate wealth from their agriculture); tropical beaches where the people can go vacation (turns out it's also hard for the Chinese, if not increasingly, to get visas elsewhere, and it seems the government, just like it seems to foster community by shoving as many people onto the longhaul trains as possible -- and designing courtyard houses with narrow alleys so people have to converse on the street -- China wants to have everything within its own "two walls" as it were, and who knows how much of what certainly counts as cultural imperialism in this respect influences its grip on Tibet) as well as random pictures of flowers and animals, and the Chinese flag -- float below an obelisk and a bigger building that is a cross between an old-style temple and a DC Roman-style royal hall. Other buildings like this in this "mall." Then past a few shops -- one selling the usual jade bracelets and Buddha talismen -- another drinks and snacks -- people saying, "Excuse me, hello," showing off neon spin wheels by shooting them into the air, or a girl saying, "Have you been to the Great Wall?" (I definitely feel the pressure to go see it before I leave here -- but also feel I've already seen it in a way). Then out towards the hutongs -- back-alley neighborhoods -- plenty of good shops, restaurants -- a lady at her bike selling newspapers; and a lady at a cart making this great thing I always buy -- a crepe with a fried egg, with brown sauces, wrapped around a crunchy cake! I also went to the "International Hotel" today -- giant c-shaped building with a big egg of a central tower topping it making it look 70s-space-age -- on a main drag near the parks and the Square -- to buy my ferry ticket to Korea. Inside: an American and his Chinese wife and their hybrid son! And Christmas music; and two poor Chinese girls in a Christmas hut dressed in red and white, with hats. Suffice to say it made me feel at home and somehow at the same time totally not at all. Outside again -- smog everywhere; and the big banks and hotels of Beijing. Also read some New York Times about the Nobel Peace Prize winner China is being very childish about (even cutting off trade with Norway -- where the ceremony was held), and realized, the way "Beijing" was referred to in the same way we refer to "Washington" -- that I am at the administrative heart of a very weird country. I love the Han culture, but I am glad I am getting a look, even if it is more a glimpse, inside the "fortress"! For example they'd be none too pleased I've been reading, and am now writing, about their international blockade of the nobel peace prize for an author they've imprisoned to this day -- and supposedly for the next 10 years -- and have also instituted their own* award, not servile to western values -- the Confucius Peace Prize!
After the fish and bird mutations, coming up into the jangle of the land, man and his vessel, in the dawn of his reading the golden, darkened, whiteblue waters,
clouds,
the quivering scripture of sharkfin, birdcall, in the flames of a conquest candle in a church
by the browngreen waters, or flagging a cab, under the horse- man statue, faces between streetway and sky
giving the children, tourists, directions -- he comes home to a fish dinner with bread and beer, talking
about nothing much, the TV, while back in the church, singing under bouquets of lightbulbs, whispering in the forest
of wax stems, each like a head like a seed of fire -- families and their marriages; a dude and his hot bitch;
a lady with a basket of a swan: humanity stands there in the echoing stone
tablet while outside an outcast lays under an actual tree, strumming a banjo.
CARSEAT -- “ I know where I am. I know what I gotta do.”
ON THE AIRPORT RUG, MOTHER TO HER CHILD, AND “RESPONSE”
“You need water?”
-abstract patterns -gazing to people -she carry bags
Laying down diadem (before an effigy)
--(3) entry into Jerusalem (Grove, again) --singing under the peacock tree, words like hymns
--fortress/canyon --river-floor
Wrapped w/ walls
à “keeping the peace”… àkeep masses sleeping/protected…
(unity) -script -currency -measurement
living floors
different ways of telling the giant story, today in the airport, trying to get home, the world blowing rainy on the fields of stone and grass through windows'; TVs on the walls tell of tornado attacks in the south, and i sit in a mcdonalds by my gate, watching while teenagers shovel out fries and navigate liquid screens… *TBC
Fluctuat nec mergitur (or FLVCTVAT·NEC·MERGITVR in Roman-style inscriptions) is a Latin phrase meaning "It is tossed by the waves, but does not sink" --Paris
Sumeru
Opening a door -- How new in our life As historical apes?
Once a dusty cave In the Turfan depression Remained with me in memory
And reading of early Apes in Georgia Floated in my day’s
Valley -- I set the table With iron-age wares In the cave of the apartment
Living room in the middle Of a road in the middle Of a continent, between great waters.
---liberation of metals from rock
The opening programme shows how life has adapted to the volcanic highlands bordering the Rift Valley. Volcanic activity created the Ethiopian Highlands 30 million years ago, and is still evident at Erta Ale’s molten lava lake. Further south, it thrust up huge peaks such as Kilimanjaro and Mount Kenya. The mountain hyrax, augur buzzard, giant lobelia and side-striped chameleon are some of the species filmed on the latter's storm-blasted mountain slopes. In the Aberdares, an older, more eroded range, elephants and mountain bongos are marooned by surrounding human development. In the central Rift Valley, giant mastiff bats roost in a cave beneath the collapsed lava plateau of Mount Suswa. Infrared cameras reveal the activities of the bats and their unusual cohabitants, a troop of baboons. Ol Doinyo Lengai is Africa's most active volcano. The 2007 eruption showered the Serengeti plains with ash, ideal fertiliser for the grass that supports the vast game herds. To the south, the remote Kitulo Plateau in Tanzania is attracting considerable scientific attention due to its unique flora and fauna. The programme includes the first professional footage of the kipunji, a rare primate discovered in 2005. Other species shown include the montane widowbird, the Temple's chameleon and various monkey beetles. The final scenes show mountain gorillas in the Virunga Mountains. Inside the Great Rift shows how the crew enlisted the help of a local Maasai tribe to film inside Mount Suswa's cave.[2]
At some unknown point the connection between heat and the liberation of metals from rock became clear, rocks rich in copper, tin, and lead came into demand. These ores were mined wherever they were recognized. Remnants of such ancient mines have been found all over what is today the Middle East.[2] Metalworking was being carried out by the South Asian inhabitants of Mehrgarh between 7000–3300 BCE.[3] The end of the beginning of metalworking occurs sometime around 6000 BCE when copper smelting became common in the Middle East.
Mehrgarh, (Urdu: ???????? , Brahui: Mehrgarh) one of the most important Neolithic (7000 BC to c. 2500 BC) sites in archaeology, lies on what is now the "Kachi plain" of today's Balochistan, Pakistan. It is one of the earliest sites with evidence of farming (wheat and barley) and herding (cattle, sheep and goats) in South Asia
Early farming village in Mehrgarh, c. 7000 BCE, with houses built with mud bricks. (Musée Guimet, Paris).
The site is located near the Bolan Pass, to the west of the Indus River valley and between the present-day Pakistani cities of Quetta, Kalat and Sibi. Mehrgarh was discovered in 1974 by an archaeological team directed by French archaeologist Jean-François Jarrige, and was excavated continuously between 1974 and 1986. The earliest settlement at Mehrgarh—in the northeast corner of the 495-acre (2.00 km2) site—was a small farming village dated between 7000 BCE–5500 BCE.
Bolan Pass) is a mountain pass through the Toba Kakar Range of Balochistan province in western Pakistan, 120 kilometres from the Afghanistan border. Strategically located, traders, invaders, and nomadic tribes have also used it as a gateway to and from the South Asia.[1] The Bolan Pass is an important pass on the Baluch frontier, connecting Jacobabad and Sibi with Quetta, which has always occupied an important place in the history of British campaigns in Afghanistan.
The Toba Kakar Mountains are a Southern offshoot of the Himalayas in the Balochistan region of Pakistan. The historical route through the mountains is known as the Bolan Pass. The mountains originally received media attention in August, 1979; when evidence emerged that Pakistan may be using them as a potential workspace towards development of nuclear weapons.
(*contJ: =-_)
…of the alphabet of ideas (as digested and reprocessed) according to Old McDonald’s time-tested calculus of supply and demand cows in the fields of the factories, ruminating blandly, and one can’t help but regard the look of the planes as such, standing waiting for a tube to inject a fresh load of wayfarers, this glowing beast of the field tamed from the riddles of physics, a great bird born of invisible lines of force in these men who move shapes from a page to a stage in their minds where the world re-becomes what it is and unfolds further shapes from this movement (to be placed upon another page)… The suited rhetoriticians stand between two flags -- one whose lines of blood and milk and cornered field of electric blue strewn with evenly spaced stars, as if they trace an actual pattern of ideas, becomes a symbol in the mind of itself alone, and but the history of cartoon ideas woven about its floorless legislation; the other whose nicely twined roses, along runners of green, borders the white space of the mottoes and symbols of the state in question, where twenty-nine miners have died, in a shaft that exploded -- and throw out the incantations and equations made to honor the dead and to comfort the living (“Now they are with their Heavenly Father”; “surely loss is heaven’s gain” (note: I had first written down the President’s words as “game”); “the heart and soul and the spine of our country”); through the evocations of the mystery of a hereafter and a divine creator, somehow the head of grained, world-and-body based pictures and feelings is elevated by the drive and the pitch and the height of the words, and the fiction of men who could walk across water’s transmuted to body and blood of a knowledge of being here in this place where we suffer together, now and hereafter disaster after disaster, and though we may manipulate empty signifiers, as to touch on that picture we’ve been taught or have thought to acknowledge (particular version of the story) it’s the sound and the grain and the ground of that being that is felt, the declaration that God is good being the wisdom of the lowliest that resounds till it disappears over our heads, with the hills and the dells and the shadows and ripples of knowing the songs nearly visible in his bearing (eyes like fields) as he speaks, invoking the books of our fathers long gone for the sake of the one freshly buried in the very dirt where they walked for their homes and their women and children -- men of all the epic poems of the world, except greater, their thoughts not of glory but of simple unremembered living in the rooms of their making -- and what other way to honor nonexistence, the ghosts of their presence ever fleeing to the future of their past, but through the ideas of nonexistent things, far as anyone can know, with the pictures of heaven and father and son ever singing and laughing in the halls of their immaculate light, but now ever to conjure these eternal figures, but through things of the earth, of our own West Virginia “origins” -- the mountains and hills, “unshakeable” -- the trees and the clouds, ringing, and you shall not know death, and as the reverend and senator and representative, as the vice-president and president and singer, speak to the crowd of the mourning families, I watch the reflection of people proceeding with luggage and children and their trillions of thoughts, down the shiny corridor of the Detroit Airport, in the wall of the McDonald’s where mysterious pictures of mothers doing yoga in a field, and a child, ruddy-red and blue-eyed and freckled, aims a marble to the question of my gaze, and between the child and the mothers, there’s a landscape, of a yellow flag on a grainy shore, and a blotchy, brown, gelatinous sea, and a grainy sky -- matching the shore -- and it’s got the foggy cast of a dream-scene in the Ancient Mariner, except, looking twice, no, it isn’t a land- or seascape at all, but the close-up of an Egg McMuffin, and as the people pass, from mothers to child, or child to mothers, these people in the picture and this reflection of this stream of people sandwiching the sandwich itself, and as the speakers speak still I’m off to board another version of the history of ideas… watch it… moving the runway to reveal a new angle, lifting to show… (the paper, as found, was fragmented here)
(daughter taking pic of Mom, lying on belly; takes pic of self with neck pillow àthoughts of Facebook)
G’mother: What are you doing… go to sleep… …A day at the airport Mom: Oh, yeah. (laughs; continues to laugh) Daugther: It isn’t funny. Stop laughing. (Mother laughing more) D: Stop it. (laughing) G: Ellen, what’s gotten into you? D: Gramma, she’s crazy. G: I know, she’s cracking up. D: I cannot believe I’m sleeping in the airport right now. M: Where is everybody?
G’mother (with big paperback): I’ll be up. (How many nights for her as old mother like this?)
Dan Milius, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Winning Patriot: Although Dan Milius has always been a resident of the Philadelphia area, as a young man in the 1960’s he journeyed to the foreign land of Vietnam to fight for his country. Unlike many his age, however, he volunteered to do this, and, even more striking, turned down a lucrative job offer from Disney in the process. He is greatly patriotic and has no regrets. He says the only advice he can give to younger generations is to follow the path one believes in, as he did. By Jan E. Hammerquist
"The new world of English words, or, A general dictionary : containing the interpretations of such hard words as are derived from other languages, whether Hebrew, Arabick, Syriack, Greek, Latin, Italian, French, Spanish, British, Dutch, Saxon, &c., their etymologies, and perfect definitions : together with all those terms that relate to the arts and sciences ... : to which are added the significations of proper names, mythology, and poetical fiction, historical relations, geographical descriptions of most countries and cities of the world, especially of those three nations, wherein their chiefest antiquities, battles, and other most memorable passages are mentioned : as also all other subjects that are useful and appertain to our English language : a work very necessary for strangers, as well as our own countrymen, for all persons that would rightly understand what they discourse, write, or read "
The stone artifacts are suggestive of Oldowan chopping tool tradition, similar to tools from Olduvai Gorge, Tanzania; and similar to Ubeidiya, Israel. Dmanisi has implications for the original peopling of Europe and Asia by H. erectus, in that the path from Africa to the rest of the world may be postulated via a "Levantine corridor".

A subsequent survey and numerous excavations at multiple sites established the region as a source of hominin fossils shedding light on the evolution of man over the previous 4.2 million years. Far exceeding the number of humanoid fossils are the non-humanoid fossils giving a detailed look at the fauna and flora as far back as the Miocene. Consequently the government of Kenya in 1973 reserved the region as Sibiloi National Park, establishing a headquarters for the National Museums of Kenya on Koobi Fora Spit. The reserve is well-maintained and is well-guarded by friendly but armed park police. Protection of sites and especially of wildlife are of prime concern. Exploration and excavation continue under the auspices of the Koobi Fora Research Project (KFRP), which collaborates with a number of interested universities and individuals across the world.[2]
The second episode explores East Africa's rich variety of freshwater and marine habitats. The Rift Valley's seasonal rains replenish a network of rivers which sustain life through the prolonged dry periods. The dry season affects animals differently. Elephants congregate on riverbanks and reinforce social bonds, while bee-eaters arrive to build nest holes in the exposed mud cliffs. For river hippos, it's a time of tension as hundreds of animals jostle for position in the remaining deep water channels. The hippos of Mzima, by contrast, have a guaranteed year-round water supply thanks to the natural volcanic spring. For the first time, cameras film bottom-dwelling crabs and Bathyclarias catfish in the depths of Lake Malawi. In calm conditions, clouds of midges emerge to mate and lay their eggs on the lake's surface. At night, local fishermen trawl for shoals of ucepa, which are drawn to the surface to feed on the midge larvae. Few creatures can survive in the caustic lakes of the Eastern Rift Valley. In Lake Natron, a tilapia swims too close to a thermal vent with fatal results. Aerial shots show the million-strong colony of lesser flamingos on Lake Bogoria. At its northern extreme, the Rift Valley plunges into the Red Sea. The final sequences show the diversity of marine life off the coast of Djibouti, including a group of whale sharks filter-feeding at Ghoubet. Inside the Great Rift shows how a submersible ROV was lowered into a reef crack to capture shots of deep sea life.[4]
Identifying the exact origin of agriculture remains problematic because the transition from hunter-gatherer societies began thousands of years before the invention of writing. Anthropological and archaeological evidence from sites across Southwest Asia and North Africa indicate use of wild grain (e.g., from the c. 20,000 BC site of Ohalo II in Israel, many Natufian sites in the Levant and from sites along the Nile in the 10th millennium BC). There is even evidence of planned cultivation and trait selection: grains of rye with domestic traits have been recovered from Epi-Palaeolithic (10,000+ BC) contexts at Abu Hureyra in Syria, but this appears to be a localised phenomenon resulting from cultivation of stands of wild rye, rather than a definitive step towards domestication. Previously, archaeobotanists/paleoethnobotanists had traced the selection and cultivation of specific food plant characteristics in search of the origins of agriculture. One notable example is the semi-tough rachis (and larger seeds) traced to just after the Younger Dryas (about 9500 BC) in the early Holocene in the Levant region of the Fertile Crescent. However, studies have demonstrated monophyletic characteristics attained without any sort human intervention, implying that what some may perceive as domestication among rachis could have occurred quite naturally.[8] In fact, the timescale insisted upon for rachis domestication (approx. 3000 years) coincidentally has been demonstrated to directly coincide with the statistically generated timeframe numerically modeled that would be required for monophyly to be reached if a population were simply abandoned and left to only natural demands, implying that if any sort of human intervention had occurred at all then the timescale insisted upon should be considerably shorter (than 3000 years).[8]
The Kipunji (Rungwecebus kipunji) is a species of Old World monkey that lives in the highland forests of Tanzania.
The Paleolithic prehistory of the Zagros-Taurus ((((corridor
the real moon appears on a cloudy night just like that --JH
"How High the Moon" is a jazz standard with lyrics by Nancy Hamilton and music by Morgan Lewis. It was first featured in the 1940 Broadway revue Two for the Show, where it was sung by Alfred Drake and Frances Comstock.[1] In "Two for the Show", this was a rare (and unforgettable) serious moment in an otherwise humorous revue. The song was sung, in a slow fox trot tempo, by a group of evening-dressed people walking along a London street. At the end, they all looked at the sky, and cowered, obviously terrified: quick curtain. It was 1940, and the time of the London blitz: a clear night meant "bomber's moon". John Coltrane's composition "Satellite" is also based on the chords of "How High the Moon", which Coltrane embellished with the three-tonic progression he ...
The final programme documents the Rift Valley's savannah ecosystem. In the rain shadow of the Ruwenzori Mountains, rainfall is sporadic. Acacias are the only trees that can survive the prolonged droughts, but their proliferation is curbed by browsing animals. Giraffes, gerenuks and dik-diks are all specialist acacia eaters, but elephants are the true architects of the landscape. On the plains, grass is the dominant vegetation, sustaining the largest grazing herds on earth. Antelopes use the long grass to conceal their young from lions, cheetahs and other predators. A unique starlight camera enables filming to continue after dark using available light, revealing hitherto unseen behaviour. In the pitch blackness, three lion cubs practise their hunting skills as their mother digs warthog piglets from their burrow. Hippos roam the grasslands by night, but must return to water before sunrise. At the isolated pools of Mzima, stranded hippos starve to death during the prolonged drought of 2009. Those animals that can follow the rains of the Rift Valley on seasonal migrations. Olive baboons are one of the few primates adapted to the savannah, but even they must return to the safety of the trees at night. Despite their well-developed brains, chimpanzees are confined to forested areas such as Kibale in Uganda. The final scenes suggest that the Rift Valley, where our human ancestors stepped out of the forest, is the "cradle of humanity". Inside the Great Rift reveals the challenges of capturing the first starlight footage of sleeping chimps.[6]
Mount Taurus

Bull Hill from Storm King Mountain

100,000 indigenous Ethiopian farmers rely on the annual floods, after which they plant seeds along the river banks fertilized by the flood waters (flood retreat cultivation).
Phoenician became one of the most widely used writing systems, spread by Phoenician merchants across the Mediterranean world, where it was assimilated by many other cultures and evolved.

Semeru is named from Sumeru, the central world-mountain in Buddhist cosmology and by extension Hinduism. As stated in legend, it was transplanted from India; the tale is recorded in the 15th-century East Javanese work Tantu Pagelaran. It was originally placed in the western part of the island, but that caused the island to tip, so it was moved eastward. On that journey, parts kept coming off the lower rim, forming the mountains Lawu, Wilis, Kelut, Kawi, Arjuno and Welirang. The damage thus caused to the foot of the mountain caused it to shake, and the top came off and created Penanggungan as well.[3]
ORION -- Soft and Rich Taste Chocolate
IN THE HEART OF AN EMPIRE
(Faraway from our ocean devices)
Bird on wire, you’ve come a long way;
Bird on water, how long has that song been your way
of saying, _____________ ?
just within the city, towers and horns
riding the streets of garbage;
clementine women, craftspeople from the villages
Manufaktura
--the market flows
[those who need their fix]
(dealers) pinetree from the giant horse mountain hoisted in the square
--coffee ceremonies
“the kitchen enriches”
--tucked into the folds of the alleys
--“but over the years the market has evolved”
“my colleagues at work are so eager for the drug…”
“the guardian mountain”
Westerly winds --”Westernizing at a great speed”
(airport Hawaiians, Seoul: “thank you”)
“Our servant was very nice.”
--Shilla Hotel
--raw beef alley--
(all roads lead to the Old Town Square)
--center of news, purchases
Romanian air
Airstar Avenue
-travelers by wealthy families
work cut out for him
thrived as an outcast
--desert, rainforest
--privacy in the sky
many armed god
Smythson--
--this is the story --of products
--dwarf casting gold into ring --wizard who destroys it (w/ his swordcraft)
--“craftsman… from seeds”
--“his elaborate nature”
--dream of ideal history; Jason Florio
--travelers by wealthy families
LETTER TO ONE’S FAMILY
the first women were masters of law and bread, for the men, breaking to breed. The house I awoke in of these records, and silhouettes of records,
-- things that were already happening I had seen // the cowboy movie memories thanks to Dad’s TV predilection; home from down the street
Hey --
How'a'yoo? Howz life been on the farm?
So I'm typing everything up -- daunting task! -- from the trip, up to and including the return home -- and remembered -- through the fog of the Central Park Ben Powers joint that day -- the rough poem on the back of the MET postcard I gave you, to honor your saving my notes from the dirty wet lonely gas station ground that news years eve evening. Well -- could you do me a favor, honey? Could you type it and send it to me? 'd be much obliged.
hey, give me a minute, i just moved my room and am have been busy, i gotta find the postcard and then i'll send you a real email with poems and stuff. golden fest tonight. love dan
(idea for story), “The Capitalist”: involves transactions, unreciprocated, in conversation
He hid: too loud. Old Cranbury Man & His Western Country Grainophones. Small balled up stars. If yr lucky! Anyway, here is the house whair I… While Whale Wall! Things. Momface like fishbowl. Dad big tweed city bear. Birdshit glass. Brother’s airplans. “O, God. John?!”
(Galileo)
--somewhere between Brecht & B.B. King --the wind blowing --sometimes in fear of Pacific storms --far at sea --he’d get out a bottle…
“…the eastern corner is partially damaged…”
--The panel is framed by black straight double bands, a series of stepped pyramids and a binary tress border. [Metioks & Parthenope] sit on the couch side-by-side … feet of the couch are ornamented with discs enlarging upwards.” --M & P discussing nature of love at feast of Polykrates
ARCHEOLOGICAL SITE ENTRANCE TICKET
WISHES
You say the city is a lovely lady or sundae, waiting. But I say leave me, My good bro, leave me here in my lonely valley -- I’m no help out there. Besides, there aren’t even connections. Leave me, I say, leave me here Where the massive suggestions of my bedroom tingle with minor river Schemes of the mountain traffic. “There are billions of dollars, waiting…”
It’d be fun if we all disappeared…
As if all were clouds, nothing’s converging on us. The world Slides off like so many photographs . Still, it feels good -- in the junglecloud Afternoon
to see it -- dragonfly! and say it
"dragonfly!" (up here) the sun falling through
--newsman-tonal ending to what the grandparents watch while the kids survive in brighter patches like horses in valleys below the ice mountain
SYMBOLS
Growing up means out
--grandfather humor
(how they dealt with the war)
Watchtower -- resting on four pillars --
“& they’re off!--”
--Biostar / starting gate
The dream of the car (BC invention)
Sunset Seacloud Tangtongue eyepod
Joyful Christmas story in the mall
City Hall (slobs)
Lady floating
____ coral --in the forest of the subway
Early settlers--
No gravity // sky park
The uncanny valley
--active roots of the highways … homes ßà cities
Lookout post … gate… village moat…
…a village where the history… can be felt… now equipped with sports & facilities & rest areas for citizen… (Budapest--Lausanne--Tatev--Grad--Changwon--Zurich--Atlantis--(Artvin; Davit Gareja)
Royal nature
praise song African literature
Main one of the most widely used poetic forms in Africa; a series of laudatory epithets applied to gods, men, animals, plants, and towns that capture the essence of the object being praised. Professional bards, who may be both praise singers to a chief and court historians of their tribe, chant praise songs such as these of the great Zulu chieftain Shaka:
He is Shaka the unshakeable, Thunderer-while-sitting, son of Menzi. He is the bird that preys on other birds, The battle-axe that excels over other battle-axes. He is the long-strided pursuer, son of Ndaba, Who pursued the sun and the moon. He is the great hubbub like the rocks of Nkandla Where elephants take shelter When the heavens frown... Although he is expected to know all of the traditional phrases handed down by word of mouth in his tribe, the bard is also free to make additions to existing poems. Thus the praise songs of Shango, the Yoruba god of thunder and lightning, might contain a modern comparison of the god to the power and noise of a railway. Among some Bantu-speaking peoples, the praise song is an important form of oral literature. The Sotho of Lesotho required all boys undergoing initiation to compose praises for themselves that set forth the ideals of action or manhood. Sotho bards also composed traditional praises of chiefs and warriors, and even a very young man was allowed to create praises of himself if he had performed feats of great courage. These praise songs were recited as follows: the reciter stood in an open space, visible to all assembled. He then began reciting in a high voice, punctuating his victories in war by stabbing the ground with his spear, until he had set forth not only his lineage and the battles in which he had fought but his entire life history. Sotho praises are telegraphic, leaving much to the listener’s imagination; their language is poetic, and the sequence of events not necessarily logical. Metaphor is a key device for suggesting worth (a reciter might call himself a ferocious animal), and poetic license is granted for coining new words. To the subjects used by the Sotho, the Tswana of Botswana add women, tribal groups, domestic (especially cattle) and wild animals, trees, crops, various features of the landscape, and divining bones. Their praise songs consist of a succession of loose stanzas with an irregular number of lines and a balanced metrical form. Experiences such as going abroad to work for Europeans have become a subject of recent praise poems, and recitation has been extended from tribal meetings and ritual occasions such as weddings to the beer hall and labour camp. In western Africa, also, praise songs have been adapted to the times, and a modern praise singer often serves as an entertainer hired to flatter the rich and socially prominent or to act as a master of ceremonies for paramount chiefs at state functions—e.g., among the Hausa and Manding peoples. Thus praise- song poems, though still embodying and preserving a tribe’s history, have also been adapted to an increasingly urbanized and Westernized African society.
City mall
Peripheral villages
--the ox-herder’s daughter
--The long road home; reverse engineering in the jungle; found & lost center…
Williwaw
headpackage…
impossible to judge one… based on individual moments… unity of public opinion…
Carbide present (remains) /// absence of structural remnants (poem) … poem as artifact (dig-me-up)
--even the interior of the moat has brought forth many pottery and stoneware fragments…
After traveling, typing up notes -- like man [ark-eologist] finding what man has left behind from the (3 of) history …
--their dream of a Mediterranean garden…
THE ATHENS SUTRA
--the text is long --the mountain path in winter --with Iron Age dimensions --eventually gives way to sunny --baskets in the talking meadows
--after wheels came from mud, rocks
(Porter Fox -- in a subway -- cave office -- awaiting --private revelation --tablets locked away --in ventilated houses)
--but -- transmuted -- in book and web --pages
-- pieces together --shine in shared language
--creates the history, --rebreathes Q+A
--House of Lords Lotus Light Turn-on said Chin-gu --four sharing a donut in the ocean --turtle vs. celebrity
TV show in the soul
(--that sounded like you were swishing water in your mouth” -- he said, of my writing)
“this is what the internet creates”
THE IMAGINATION
--as the person
--appearing again --shapes shapes
--in all the special cases
--points of origins of brightness
--products of the search --the real solid something
--following which comes the inevitable
--wave of trash
--derivative derivatives, at the speed of forming, forming.
--apparitional --mind --made of brain --making, being --thought
--doubt --continuing a poem --clicking farther, --lines, unlocking --laughter --and the news, water
POEM
--the sign promised
Fresh Friendly Fun
--but I’m so far into the winter --from childhood
I
Bart Simpson
The largely nocturnal puma --Philosophy Dave --internet collaging
“do you have a watch with a different date function?”
--book as friend, telling you things; except pages are 2D brains and you have to absorb, i.e., be a good friend…
--How to describe flow of influences?
--perhaps, a wave
: Ha-lo!
--west to east and back again (even further, eventually)
Too much TV
Gemeinschaft
--church, pagoda --Jesus with flock, at table
MARCH 15 DEMOCRATIC REVOLUTION --Symbol Gate --Boundaries of a Grave --A Memorial Hall --A Parking Place
POEM
--like any mining town
--texting Sir John, speed-mate
POEM
--navigating through unknown shapes --how to hear gramma & watch the pretty Girls parading, crystalline sluts across the TV? --smile along, to the stories & jokes & dream
--the secret racecar videogame of the heart … driving emotion …
What’s in yr soul ’s in yr soul
“both turtles are raising their right legs as if walking’
Unified Silla Achievements
--stone stand
Internationally famous Korean dramas
Vertically carved patterns… Dharma Bill… careful attention paid to the invisible parts…
W((blue-orange-red))omb-----aspara///four ripple-cases---praying on a flame or a wave? …. A ßàHum (breathing)
OLIVE YOUNG COLD STONE CHINA FACTORY SEAFOOD OCEAN FISHER’S MARKET THE PLACE
SEED TIME
How well do children understand the internet?
--other traditional spirits
Rom Consulting
--in underwater life, mountains are descended upon
--locating and constructing a sophisticated repository…
--Ruins of the fortress… parking area…
Opera House
--industrial suburbs…
…bath house… --the goddess of the ocean….
Awaken! English
“dude, your mouse is super-sensitive”
--waste pits & shell mounds”
“…wandered across western Armenia for centuries…”
…A model of the partially reconstructed church…
…round creation… hood-shaped dome (monk)…
“An arc of finely carved pullars and a massive stone floor are what remains”… “along with a profusion of decorated stone fragments”…
(“Either way, the pillars evoke a feeling for a Greek- and Roman-influenced Levantine Christianity similar to many early-Syrian church ruins”)
“wine press and stone tanks”
“rich farmlands”… highway… village… beam of light…
-the price of a taxi-- chance it with the cowboys outside arrivals…
--”overhead” cables (brain as “above” --- as this afternoon, waking, sensing a giant stretching wall -- multicolored, translucent -- as my right brain) --northern bus station
--if we look at it from that other angle”
Bone to stone tools
--look at my life
--planet, plant --fishtank, subway
My my, hey hey
FISHTANK
--the massive strut of that man’s man, the sun
--an orange visitation through the wall --the awake wanderer witnesses --as the bus makes strides --somewhere at the tangled verges --of his gray asshole
--but for a red heart! to bleed a humming river --from stones for meadows, windows --puzzling out, discussing, getting off --we happily swim the same chapters /// time after time
…outpost… love affair… lotus as boat
“Namaste” …Busan (Taste of India + fjord)
The Eagle and Child
--Ashmolean museum
FORGETTING
--stairs along grass --entry to the bridge --to the childhood bedroom --with a window to the road --to the park --to the bottle --discussions, --smoke
--a light green world in a darkblue darkness --the opening doors --the plastic brown houses --by the landing planes --profusion of phones --kindness of martys, parents --for basement videogames -- galaxies
SILENCE
But what kind of silence? A big brother full of ideas silence? Or the hillock of the construction site at night silence? Or the ready to walk through a fire of possible phrases and finally speak silence? (The truth is) -- Life is loud, full of things -- speaking… Real silence is a dead man -- sweet Cash, about the Ring of Fire -- a karaoke machine all alone in the middle of New Mexico.
Alain de Baton
“Listen to me”
POEM: “Not government issued”
--prosthetics of the land -- spiketangle of churches, tollbooths
Feminine Must-Haves & Highlights
--another rule, young one : there will always be a zoo for you
MAYBE THE MATH WORKS (trying… egg-pictures… by water with “camera clara”)
--they circle honoring mother, for what? --same city center dedications
(thoughts reading translated museum plaques)
--City as a tangle of language, closing in… need the proverbial sword to cut know… stay by “water” (escape)… always a way out à people have only one way or other, unless they, too, stay by water… (entrenched values)…
NOMADIC FOOD & WORLD KITCHEN --this picture-sound shows emphasis on “and” -- nonexclusitivies: you + are = welcome
AFRICANUS
“home for” “mother of” “fabrics to each other” “longstanding symbolic” “language of repetition” “adorned with a spirit” “in the first light… sketchbooks” “roots and body differences” “subject and power, the” “state in everyday” “anxiety you would wonder about” “glass, brass, mirror, and wood” “Age to the present” “state and freedom” “Actual art education” “the lines of my forehead”
The Sheltering Sky
“This is really old” “you’re really old”
Kafka’s “The Next Village”
-- “visitor information sheet”: worn-out yellowed “VISITOR” with church picture (first Unitarian, Philly)
--“I’ll be right with you!”
GALLOPER (pt. 2)
hite (Cool & Fresh!)
-- codes combine
Heaven is history ending in 20-course meal (one for each major strand of people)
“setting free all the stresses of city life”
BOX // SEAL // DOOR // WALL
SONS OF “PRO-ME” THEO --- CRUNKY CHOCOLATE (LOTTE CRUNCH CHOCOLATE)
Creatures of circumnavigable stances, --by night, by bus --roads prearranged
--What would you like to talk about?
--think of it as a first --field wide open
--middle --where are you today?
--and last -- we could need boats, suddenly --voices drowned
--adventure
--composed of whatever, --certainly there
--all parts wholly --everything that lives
--and a smiling girl --haunts more than taunts --the possible words, embraces
--the farmer needs the ladder
Bull Shit v. Book Store
--the warring siblings
--forgotten in one’s travels of speech
--albeit through them -- inventors, merchants
--radio characters, refrigerator salesmen, fishermen, soldiers Of shore & mountain
I remember a vulture assaulting their father (architect) --in the middle of the street --and, escaping to the river, -- away from the tower -- he taught other apes speech --
“When they saw the Pilgrims, the Indians, quickly disappeared into the woods that fringed the beach.” [ch. Vii: “HARD AND DIFFICULTE BEGINNINGS”
PHOTOGRAPH
A group Of stars At night Laughing
LAST POEMS
--actual observations
--mysterious planet
HOME EVOLUTION
Kitchen & Bath
Pomme-heir-aliens
--food, water, handsoap
--talkings in the room house
--multiethnic -- like a preserved textual mumble-jungle
--Calculushiferry
--after and before --cell aberration
--before again, after, --and after again
--“at least I’m happy now, right?”
--“Is there any poison that I have not drunk?”
Fish at the shopping center Of the bottom Of the life galaxy Of the blood coeur-a-door
--a -- Pushkin, Caucasus, Sense-us, alien powers
Green-and-white Or blue-and-
One or the other -- works // clock - --- Atlandishbank
-- xyz // 1x1y1z
(sentences requiring different tree-games for different ways of getting to (a particular picture) --
NEW 99 CENTS AND UP LOTTERIA --POEM (from the stock market bodega)
--in the southern character parties -- “Ham is Fear” -- making cities O.K. --they fathered horses --marketed in the square --so many bred lines by the round fountain
--all day away faring selection of jongoal sons -- whysky -- soar
--down in the asshole earth
x=3 (solve for why)
-- a rhinoceros baby in the morning morning --away-moment-morning --deeply reclined -- into the accelerating picture
---stars: what happens
-- Haremhab, The General Who Became King…
The statue and its subject…
“Hear international scholars”
“engage in a lively dialogue with… the magnificent… statue of Haremhab…” \]NOLEN LIBRARY… (MET)
Consider a strain that overexpresses adenylyl-cyclase in the forebrain: Although the mice exhibit improved recognition memory and LTP, they show decreased performance on memory extinction tasks. (In other words, they struggle to forget irrelevant information.) Other strains of “smart mice” excel at solving complex exercises, such as the Morris Water Maze, but struggle with simpler conditions. It’s as if they remember too much. And then there’s “Doogie,” the rodent strain named after the fictional television prodigy Doogie Howser. These mice overexpress a particular subunit of the NMDA receptor, known as NR2B, which allows their receptors to stay open for twice as long as normal. The end result is that it’s easier for disparate events to get linked together in the brain. The only downside is that Doogie mice also seem to suffer from increased sensitivity to chronic pain. Their intelligence literally hurts.
And these tradeoffs don’t just exist in mice
Barret explains that the Mako reactors are sucking the life out of the planet, which is why they must be destroyed. Cloud says he doesn't care; he's only in it for the money. Cloud follows Jessie into the reactor and goes deeper inside. Together with Barret they fight their way to the entrance of the reactor core. Just as they begin to lay explosive charges, Cloud clutches his head and a mysterious voice rings in his head. … Deeper in the reactor core, Cloud has another spasm. He sees Tifa as a young girl standing over the dead body of her father in a similar reactor, she accuses Sephiroth of killing him. She picks up Sephiroth's discarded sword and runs into the reactor core. Cloud snaps out of the flashback. … The President of Shinra appears. He insults them then sets his new weapon Airbuster on them. Then he leaves. They defeat Airbuster but it explodes taking out the walkway and Cloud plunges into the city below.
$$?
ut, Johanna Nichols (1997, 1998) presents an alternative model for the epicenter of the Indo-European linguistic spread which addresses this eastern homogeneity in a strikingly different manner. Nichols' Indo-European homeland thesis, which is the most recent homeland theory at the time of writing, places the origin of the Indo-Europeans well to the east of the Caspian Sea, in the area of ancient Bactria-Sogdiana. Since this is adjacent and partly overlapping the area where the Out-of-India/Indigenist school would place the homeland, her theory merits some attention. Nichols' theory is partly predicated on the geographical relationship between loan words emanating from Mesopotamia into Indo-European via other language families (see Nichols 1997 for details), and partly for her assertion that the principle that area of greatest homogeneity of a language family is indicative of its locus or origin is demonstrably false for the languages of Central Asia. She cites Iranian, which spread over enormous stretches of Asia in ancient times, and Turkic, which likewise spread over major portions of Asia. as examples of languages whose greatest diversity occured in refuge areas on the western periphery of their point of origin.
In Nichols' Bactrian homeland, PIE -expands- out of its locus eventually forming two basic trajectories. The language range initially radiates westward engulfing the whole area around the Aral sea from the northern Steppe to the Iranian plateau. Upon reaching the Caspian, one trajectory expands around the sea to the North and over the steppes of Central Asia to the Black Sea, while the other flows around the Southern perimeter and into Anatolia. Here we have a model of a continuous distribution of PIE without postulating any migrations whatsoever. By the third or second millenium BCE we have the proto-forms of Italic, Celtic, and perhaps Germanic in the environs of Central Europe and the proto-forms of Greek, Illyrian, Anatolia, and Armenian stretching from northwest Mesopotamia to the southern Balkans (1997: 134). Proto-Indo-Aryan was spreading into the subcontinent proper, while proto-Tocharian remained close to the original homeland in the Northeast.
As this expansion was progressing into Europe, a new later wave of IE language, Iranian, is spreading behind the first language spread. Sweeping across the steppes of Central Asia, the Caucasus and the deserts of north Iran, the Iranian dialects separated the two preceding trajectories -- which up till that time had formed a continuum -- into two non-contiguous areas(one in central Europe to the North of the Caspian Sea, the other in Anatolia to its south). In time, the two original trajectories coincided in the Balkans. The Southern trajectory had meanwhile formed a continuous chain of Dacian, Thracian, Illyrian, Greek, and Phrygian spreading from west Anatolia to the Danube plain (ibid.: 136) From the northern trajectory, Italic spread to Italy from Central Europe, and Celtic to its historic destination, followed, in time, by Germanic which was followed, in turn, by Balto-Slavic. All these languages spread by expansion -- there are no migrations throughout this whole immense chronological and geographical sequence.
The corollary of Nichols model is that the assumed variegatedness of the western languages is only due to the fact that the later Iranian languages had spread and severed the contiguity of the northern and southern IE trajectories (which had previously formed an unbroken continuity around the east coast of the Capsian) while leaving behind Indo-Iranian and a stranded Tocharian to the east. The variegatedness of western languages is actually due to their situation on the western periphery of the original locus, or homeland. This model might also address the issue of why PIE did not evolve into more dialects in the putative homeland: the later westward spread of Iranian obliterated all of the eastern parts of the proto-continuum except for Indo-Aryan to its east, and the isolated Tocharian to the Northeast.

First of all, Foster Wallace, in this series of quotes from the story, "Good Old Neon," which I had found on a site, perhaps belonging to a like soul, who had transcribed much the same stuff I had read you from my own transcriptions:
"What goes on inside is just too fast and huge and all interconnected for words to do more than barely sketch the outlines of at most one tiny little part of it at any given instant." * "The truth is you already know what it's like. You already know the difference between the size and speed of everything that flashes through you and the tiny inadequate bit of it all you can ever let anyone know. As though inside you is this enormous room full of what seems like everything in the whole universe at one time or another and yet the only parts that get out have to somehow squeeze out through one of those tiny keyholes you see under the knob in older doors. As if we are all trying to see each other through these tiny keyholes. "But it does have a knob, the door can open. But not in the way you think...The truth is you've already heard this. That this is what it's like. That it's what makes room for the universes inside you, all the endless inbent fractals of connection and symphonies of different voices, the infinities you can never show another soul. And you think it makes you a fraud, the tiny fraction anyone else ever sees? Of course you're a fraud, of course what people see is never you. And of course you know this, and of course you try to manage what part they see if you know it's only a part. Who wouldn't? It's called free will, Sherlock. But at the same time it's why it feels so good to break down and cry in front of others, or to laugh, or speak in tongues, or chant in Bengali--it's not English anymore, it's not getting squeezed through any hole."
******************************
Second, Armenia. After many months -- of getting across China, across the China Sea to Korea, of washing up on the shoreless shores of Phoenix, Philadelphia, then surviving a beating in Brooklyn and escaping to this library in Ann Arbor -- this explanation is way overdue, of why they seemed a different crowd from the Georgians. You were right to point out a shared lackadaisical approach to practical matters, which one may argue emerges from a strong domestic base which keeps money within the family despite a marked lack of prosperity, which allows people to not really worry or think so much about how they will be floundering forever in lower-middle class conditions. The people I met lived on very little, but like the Georgians had clean, well-composed homes, which were yet still somehow shabby, lacking in those eye-pleasing objects (paintings, knickknacks) to round things out -- though of course they will display whatever they do have -- inherited, say, from the grandparents. The Armenians maybe share a -- Caucasian? -- personality with the Georgians which consists of constant engagement with one's guests, piling on the food and drink -- but an interesting difference might be in the Armenian's acceptance of you telling them you HAVE HAD ENOUGH! Maybe that aspect converges on what I meant by "chilled-out" -- I do not know if you will go to Armenia, but if so you can tell me if you feel that culturally and/or ethnically, while they equally see the fun in great romps like their neighbors, they also are more sensitive to things besides this (while many of the Georgians I met, on the other hand, seemed to define themselves by this kind of a partying spirit alone), and I do not know if this is linked to their greater awareness of their cultural heritage (literary and otherwise). Again, I found a lot of the Armenians -- such as my taxi-driver in Yerevan, a desperately intense man who with no English besides "Yerevan, no good!!" managed to convey to me why I should give him 10 or something more drahms than I was supposed to, because he has nothing -- and his stubbly face and angry eyes suggested a terrible, closed-in, uncomfortable existence. On the other hand, they, too, have an amazing generosity -- a fancy-pants, partying older bald man in Yerevan, with excellent English, took us out drinking, and all of his younger friends were smoking joints (do you see that in Georgia, either? I doubt it!). Last but best of all of course were the brothers with whom I had gotten a ride back to the capital (after a few days in a village further south, on the edge of a gorge, by one of the first monasteries in the world) in the old puttering monster of a Soviet truck -- the driving brother singing the whole way -- including "Going ... to... YereVAN!" -- and buying us khorovats wraps (smoked meat + lavash) and pear sodas!! -- which you know well -- except the sodas were actually dyed a kind of radioactive green in this case. Okay, that's it then: Armenians, like the Georgians, have their pear soda, but it is bright green!
******************************
Third, have you firmed plans for July/August? Where will/would you be when?
At some point or another, I would also like to be in Georgia, albeit briefly (i.e., money/time concerns) -- even if that were only next spring or summer.
But the Hualapais have something that Las Vegas does not — namely, their pristine reservation, which creeps right up to the western edge of the Grand Canyon, includes a stretch of the Colorado River and provides vistas as awe-inspiring as any row of cherries lining up neatly on a slot machine.
To improve its gambit to lure more visitors from Vegas, the Hualapai teamed up with a tour operator named David Jin in 2003 to create the Skywalk, which extends 70 feet beyond the canyon rim and provides unmatched views of the floor thousands of feet below. Success, though, has brought controversy.
Before the Skywalk opened in 2007, 150,000 visitors in a good year would peer over the canyon edge on Hualapai land orraftdown the tribe’s portion of the Colorado. Last year, the number had more than quadrupled, with many of the visitors paying as much as $73 to slip on booties and edge their way out onto the horseshoe-shaped walkway of glass.
_)_()()(_)_)_()(
Researchers have identified what they say is the earliest known example of the domestic raising of horses. Writing in the journal Science, the researchers describe tracing the origins of horse domestication back to the Botai Culture of Kazakhstan, some 5,500 years ago. The researchers found evidence that horses were harnessed or bridled, and also that the horses were milked at the farm, in the steppe zones to the east of the Ural Mountains in Northern Kazakhstan. We'll find out more. Scientific evidence links indigenous Americans to Asian peoples, specifically eastern Siberian populations. Indigenous peoples of the Americas have been linked to North Asian populations by linguistic dialects, the distribution of blood types, and in genetic composition as reflected by molecular data, such as DNA.[6]
Evidence suggests big-game hunters crossed the Bering Strait from Asia (Eurasia) into North America over a land bridge (Beringia), that existed between 45,000 BCE – 12,000 BCE (47,000 – 14,000 years ago).[2] Small isolated groups of hunter-gatherers migrated alongside herds of large herbivores far into Alaska. 16,500 BCE – 13,500 BCE (18,500 – 15,500 years ago), ice-free corridors developed along the Pacific coast and valleys of North America.[3] This allowed animals, followed by humans, to migrate south into the interior. The people went on foot or used primitive boats along the coastline.[2] The precise dates and routes of the peopling of the New World are subject to ongoing debate.[4]
--had no need to walk any further -- found this poem --saw the hills over the river, myself in this cloud --was my own tour guide --saw the future, as a lightspeed vessel in a droplet
sunset over the old monsters, and all the new, though they have electricity, and the mouths and eyes of buildings taste and look nasty when you're hungry, friendly when you're full, as now as you walk back home in the twilight to read Don Quixote, sleep, and dream of ships or clouds.
DREAM OF JOHN BALL -- "under another name" --image of angel of history "now, I know how it fits... and so on..."
A Klee painting named Angelus Novus shows an angel looking as though he is about to move away from something he is fixedly contemplating. His eyes are staring, his mouth is open, his wings are spread. This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage upon wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. The storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This storm is what we call progress.
"y'ever hear of Marc Newgarden?"
He looked around nervously "where are the lions?" he wondered. A small bird flitted near his head.
** the drunken portal out on the other side of daylight, cleared of something better not to remember the fat exploits of Tuesday, the ash of Wednesday
brain's stained papers
TOP STORIES
droplet precautions
Swiss Cheese Effect
"small multiple system failues"
20 different system elements had to be in error in order for the tragedy to take place
"each one of you who is there who see things..."
Shakespeare's trick -- intentionally using the less common meaning for a word in its primary context
Europe After Roaming
fragmentation and conversion
"... a few changes on you... and comes back as a small blue computer"
BEYOND BLAME
"as you need to run diminished with your ability to run"
piano-music watering talking clerking writing
ornamental textile
regional circuits of information, credit
internal weather
**
WAVEPAD
editing sounds
between the previous leaves and the New Forest of summer talking
along the wall of our potential harmony with the wires of drops, steps,
the halls branching, the music of streets, names... the hollow of self
where we learn all these things... but even I do not understand the music in me
--sometimes when I talk the results are better than I could have thought
THOUGHTS OF W.S. GARDNER
getting our work done
glory days (had stormed the grammar palace)
(Huron to Packard) escape from Japan
--I'm coming home, baby
park land... center... city
EARTH AS CHURCH
cohered as a space with ceiling and dawning, in windows, fading, but still turning
its terrible when it trembles
via cellular networks
analyze sounds
the wish-fulfilling trees
Patrick's escape to the trees, the ship
somehow I knew to keep it though I didn't know why
the shifting empires seeds and spices streets and spires
revegetation
native seeds
lonely city searches (for) cozy breasts, windowed rooms.
come back, you must start again
falanghina
Espen Aarseth
MAP
[Information release center] -- little star or flower indicating location
more complicated than you thought "--it's only water"
double-check the double-check systems
the morning grinding of spices
the ancient Roman grape
fatness to fitness
Ancient PolytimetUS
vine growing regions
INFINITI COACHES SPOTLIGHT
Buzz Williams
commercial: man driving under L tracks, escaping road, moving right angled against train
But the Hualapais have something that Las Vegas does not — namely, their pristine reservation, which creeps right up to the western edge of the Grand Canyon, includes a stretch of the Colorado River and provides vistas as awe-inspiring as any row of cherries lining up neatly on a slot machine.
To improve its gambit to lure more visitors from Vegas, the Hualapai teamed up with a tour operator named David Jin in 2003 to create the Skywalk, which extends 70 feet beyond the canyon rim and provides unmatched views of the floor thousands of feet below. Success, though, has brought controversy.
Before the Skywalk opened in 2007, 150,000 visitors in a good year would peer over the canyon edge on Hualapai land or raft down the tribe’s portion of the Colorado. Last year, the number had more than quadrupled, with many of the visitors paying as much as $73 to slip on booties and edge their way out onto the horseshoe-shaped walkway of glass.
after the flood, earthflowers beginnings of houses from the leftover boats
the originalish forms of forestsw post-neolithic magic
Pakistan to China India to Georgia shared stories
the flood virtually creation
Poseidon's shell sounds the fish as symboles of the bird as words
ORIGINS OF DRAMA
two friends, brothers riding along the river through the forest
, a woman ...
FOR EXAMPLE
the prototypes of clocks
the shape of ancient thought
"To operate Clip Light, unscrew cap, remove plastic disk between batteries and contacts. Return batteries and reassemble Clip Light."
LANGUAGING
Oo-oh, Growin' Up....
Once you know the function codes you can change screens from any page by [typing] the code of the function you want in the ... {[corner] ([where it] says function)}
attempting to work out his biography
"Incident reports set analysis and improvement process in motion"
PLEASE DO NOT WRITE ON PROJECTOR SCREEN
not born a good listener
faulty wiring
Universal Waste
an armed police office walking through our health system
something more than just the script -- I would say
help you along with this journey
container labeling
electrocautery
what can we do to make up for the mistake
soul washed in blood of experience
looks like math
many are the reasons we probably don't know all of them
choices of where they want to go for carre
musculoskeletal
limit duration
choices of where they want to go for care
icebreakers
"we're really all at various levels"
awkward posture ... when you move... far as... can go
"but they're on their lifelong cultural competency journey too"
beyond corridor smoke barrier doors
get the audible and the visual signal, as well
under the waterline
personal space, backgrounds, culture
Honeywell Pull Down FIRE
ordinarily cobustble, electricl equipment
quite complicated
red outlets
internal webpage
culture of caring
Ms. Wheatley (the) TOTAL ORGANIZATION
"scholarship" is still largely defined by the limits it imports from an impoverished institutional nexus and imposes without reflexivity or mercy on its "objects."
Of all the deaths he dreaded most the worst was a social death, a living death whereby you'd never be received in your full being, or never give it, live in a received projection of a self
others kept you tied to that you could never live down, or escape.
ROLLING RIVER JUNCTION storm system plaguing us in the west Spectrum Center
HEMINGWAY v. FITZGERALD (Almost like the Germanic v. the Celtic)
"You are all drowning sons," she had said, but the two, who were almost like twins, but were unrelated, had opposite reactions to the statement. The one, out of bitterness and a sense of self-righteousness, wrote a book in a deceivingly simple (but undeceivingly beautiful) style, to reaffirm some kind of wallflower appreciation of an unattainable woman -- "I'm through with worrying," the hero says, early on -- and to transcend losing a woman through writing her. The other, out of dread and a spirit of vital submission to the thought of drowning altogether -- wrote a baroque book, with its purple qualities trimmed into lovely lean speech, about the man, losing the woman, but transposing that loss itself into the "borne back" prose itself -- a prose declaring its own castration.
"ONE OF THE HEARTENING GLORIES OF THE FILMGOING YEAR"
THE GENETIC THEORY OF B-MOVIES
The quiet can fool you -- it fooled me
but that wasn't even the point --the lazy screenwriters plopped out a plot no telling to the story
and with the disregard for representation came the shock-value of a killer killing irregardless of identity
"that's nobody" that animal register of fear of death
in the 90-minute window of primitive hormones repeating proper names, in fear of the nothing at the window with the axe, blabbing in the mind, of the rapist in the hockeymask they posted at out post so the swim would be awkward, in lieu of the more intelligent violence we encountered in each other's speech, suspecting significance where neither wanted to see anything but the dying trees in the wind, in all of this I saw nothing but a possible drift, offering redemption in the dreams of the comedy of the construction of implausible deaths, and the animal in the bushes being an asshole just because he could, cutting a hole in the primal vacation, some fucked brain that can't even enjoy a Cranberries song.
"so good -- I could eat the whole loaf"
You learn to pay attention once you're past the worries that strapped you into ego (wanting to appear as perfect in the common eye we all wanted to project ideally into)
--meanwhile, you leave behind the mess you made trying to get here and float a collage of these vocabularies on the river of these negotiations.
SERMON
...read a lot in preparation...
you forget you are speaking, let alone where a town washes up
micrographica
The movementsof the novel -- to? -- [around] -- of and about -- the movement of the language in breaking down context barriers -- THERE WE WERE, EAST COAST AND MIDWEST, ON THE SAME PORCH -- "I think we should disagree" -- (Is This It?) -- "Yes." "No." "Plato." "Playdough." -----bikeride through galaxies.......
Queen Mother of the West
shipping bubbles
We live trying to risk nothing -as if we'd already gotten to the valley -- as if the way the wind is today -- was our logged planes at bed-rest
THE CONSTANT DISPERSAL OF THE NOW INTO NOW ... ... THEORY OF WASTED TIME
sons in the flood (getting kicked out of the Iron & Wine Knitting Factory show & like stories of asymmetrical belonging) return to the library, and rooms on State St., where the holes in the brick are adorned by bright green plants, and take off on bikes in polyester and wool almost like the differently-dressed predecessors on horses.
POST INDO-EUROPEAN
--we've dissolved our differences into an ongoing dream of shifting ways of talking this shining text in the courtyard of thinking -- "over it"
OSMOS
"...and Dr. Flower remarks, 'It is the emotion, not the sun, that matters here.' -- Early Celtic Nature Poetry
I hate my new job at the restaurant --Korean man breathing down my neck; (bet he won't believe we come from the same tumulus-tribe, way back)
but my mothers protect me and listen when I say, "Getta loadda this guy!"
'come on you, let's go let's go with the help o' Jesus'
'better sell this ice before it melts'
NYE "arrival" -- Zeno's
good to stop half-way
from the deck, distance -- Long Island
(I pause to read more of BEND SINISTER, now -- the moment of then watching AMERICA, AMERICA, and the moment of just now transcribing my note of it -- running in at zero degree to the moment I am about to be in reading, a Russian, not a Greek, coming to America)... Listening to MEGA MAN... J. GREENWOOD...
The song, returning here, is called "Splitter," and I immediately think of the doubling and splitting plasma of the puddle through the book, its returns and transformations... The sounds of worlds as they spin through... and back to transcribing...
Kafka's axe
frozen seas
LIBRARY AS CHURCH
can you imagine -- having to start this journey all over again
Venice, Alexandria
replicating the traditional library browsing
temporal specificity
Raj Reddy
[reading] How to Digitize a Million Books
city smalltown life
could provide some clues
ColorScript (L. Bove)
except for his father -- that old man died where he was born (can picture the director/author quoting his uncle directly here)
theory of narrative & recursion: -narrator of Knight -Goodman's version (of K.) -->absorbed, moved to the next
"What we shall witness now is the evolution of the epic form, the shedding of its metrical skin, the hoofing of its feet, a sudden fertile cross between the winged monster of the epic and the specialized prose form of entertaining narration, more or less a domesticated mammal, if I may pursue the metaphor to its lame end {{VN's lecture on DQ}}
LOW LANDS
social pressures in the playgrounds
beauties that trouble the male brain
new layers of social networking
today he wears a wristwatch, hat, Reeboks
the Auxiliary libarary where we fuck
My Transaction Summary
BOOK AS PROPER NOUN
...PAPER CUP
WASTE MANAGEMENT
From the painful comes the beautiful, From the death-dream, stories in the coffee steam morning.
Wavelets of moments, lugubrious, flown, Treasured and dreadful, converge, bright,
In the ruins of the horizon, factories, On the highway. Clusters of lights. Passing,
I see the bright weeds In the empty hospital parking lot.
PIANO LESSON
starred and daggered
biology + chinese
by word of Greeks or @ least text isles
I believe I believe that I believe that in America I will be washed clean
REMOTE STETHOSCOPE
dim, in the memory of returning a beautiful, bright, conscious mess on the turnpike to Philadelphia
(somehow, also, as if it occured before I'd ever left, but with all its wisdom now with me)
morning coffee window smokestacks
talking with my other
I love Nirvana
there has never been a free city without at least one individual knowing himself as such (actually, see BS again)
IMMIGRANT SONG
Look, my boat is leaving, the clock converging arms
you'll forget me and I I'll be where I am
blowing their sex through the air
Do you believe in dreams?
MOTHER EARTH WATER FLOWER or, SPRING
... ...as when the Earth tilts, and we explode into flower.
heart sounds of babies underwater
mapped journies
I understand it's not your fault --trapped in a tree like everyone else
don't resist the grandfather guilt the manager-meanness all as planned peaches for the pie
TEST CAR
through the digital landscapes created as you drive through them -- refreshing contstantly...
Spatial and Numerical Data... homo sapiens... sabia -- "sand" in Italian...
NONSERIOUS
12 megapixel files making worlds, working, maybe one day resting
generating scenes from my problems, matrices (with enough distance)
Bosphorous over there men in the water (Aaron's filming the gathering of the mussels, one in scuba gear, swimming them in big bags to the boat) traffic, bridges not so far
I opened myself to it
"her eyes the eyes of her whole family"
a village by a valley
A Thousand Plateaus
from the unknown into the unknown
walking from Turkey to the Manhattan ferry
STUDENT UNION
back there across waters islands of talking texts getting made
early backyard memory, gravity bongs, J. Cash --red copy of metamorphosis
photograph of FK (looks like Grampa as young man)
fishery, foresty, woodworking, cellulose, and paper industry
(Arkhang)
POEM
The things you said -- pictures -- mountains emerged
I didn’t need the Grand Canyon
-- your eyes, your brain a beautiful radio ranging my broken strings, my capsized capstans, my melted mountain, my smashed iPod
I wanted to tell you -- I’ve got so many books in my head like untranscribed notes -- bundled in a backpack -- in a nucleus
-- beating for release from the floating along fortress city cell
-- “the valley that had first been his home”
TO A GIRL
Day a circle on the car window, I looked for your face, the one loop-hole -- You or something like you, among flooded Times Square, anywhere, or the breath of some This-That, enfolding the wishing spaces of hearts
“May you have your dreams in your life”
& see the ground of interlocked flower patterns where the folding chairs had obscured it.
Niños de Mayo
“When arms and letters have beauty for their guide and leader”
--found a saloon! in yr heart Daily Structure
“There were two branches…” (cowboys & penmen)
“…children stories and tales” … “between sound and meaning with speech”
--being of animal origin… History of Alexia the Grape… Memorial spaces… --“his” escape (as “him”)
