1. One paragraph from René Daumal's unfinished novel "Mount Analogue":
"Arthur Beaver, studying the flora and fauna of the region, returned all ruddy from a long walk in the nearby countryside. The temperate climate of Port-des-Singes favors the growth of plants and animals known in our countries, but unfamiliar species as well. Among these, the most curious are a tree-like bindweed, whose power of germination and growth is so great that it is used -- like slow dynamite -- to dislocate rocks for terracing work; the incendiary lycopodium, a fat puffball that bursts while casting out its mature spores, and then a few hours later suddenly catches fire by a process of intense fermentation; the rare talking bush, a sensory plant, whose fruits form sound boxes of various shapes capable of producing all the sounds of the human voice when rubbed by its own leaves, repeating like parrots the words pronounced in its vicinity; the hoop caterpillar, a multipede nearly two meters long that likes to curl up in a circle and roll at full speed from top to bottom of the rocky slopes; the cyclops-lizard, resembling a chameleon, but with a wide open frontal eye and two others that are atrophied, an animal commanding great respect even though it looks like an old scholar of heraldry. Finally, I must mention, among others, the aeronautic caterpillar, a kind of silkworm which in good weather produces light gases in its intestines and in a few hours inflates an enormous bubble that carries it into the air; it never reaches an adult state, and reproduces itself quite primitively by larval parthenogenesis."
2. Four pages from George Self's "Make A New Sound"
(found here: http://found0bjects.blogspot.com/2010/09/make-new-sound.html)
3. The mural of Jeremy Deller's "Acid Brass" project.
4. The KLF's "America No More"
5. Three pages from the notebooks of Nicolas Collins, then 18 years old, for Alvin Lucier's 1973-1974 Introduction to Electronic Music class at Wesleyan University.
(read the rest here: http://nicolascollins.com/)
6. Two paragraphs from Gordon Burn's novel "Alma Cogan"
"I remembered this -- the way you were aware of the music as a distant pulse before you'd finished paying off the taxi; how it entered you through the soles of your feet as you stood waiting for the lift to come; how it steadily increased in volume as you rose through the building, past stone corridors and darkened offices with doors of rippled glass; and how finally the noise embraced you, along with the smoke and the human hubbub and the heat; how it played you like a flounder and then slowly wound you in.
"A plant glowed emerald green in the foyer. Bottles shone behind the bar; waitresses went back and forth in the sketchy light wearing waist-high tutus. But the dominant feature of the room was, as it has always been, the nightscape like a painted backdrop or diorama -- the night city achieved effortlessly in a few broad strokes: splashes of white to suggest lighted windows or reflected light or a swathe of light glancing off rainsoaked bricks high up in the night; torch bulbs for the hard bright stars."
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p.s. Hey. Sensibility maestro and d.l. The Dreadful Flying Glove has a finely tuned collection for you to explore today. Please do and follow it up with your reflections in the comments bank, thank you, and thank you Glove for your finds and generosity. So, yesterday I pulled myself together and spent the day seeing Paris with visiting pals Ken (Baumann) and Aviva and d.l. neighbors Kiddiepunk and Oscar B, and I seem to paying for that today because my cold has turned way crappy, and I don't really have the energy and brain power to do the p.s. today, for which I apologize. I will sort myself out with cold-fighting behavioral patterns and liquids/pills, and I'm pretty sure I'll be fully upright and raring to go as your host again tomorrow, whereupon I will catch up with the comments from yesterday as well as those you leave here over the next 24 hours. I apologize for the brief interruption. Take care, enjoy the show, and I'll see you in the morning.
