Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Number One Hundred and Three

"He thought it woozily, with a vaguely bewildering, vaguely tiring sense of scale--a secondhand sort of epiphany, removed from its source, smudged, moved elsewhere, experienced now without clarity or context, therefore less insight, really, than mood swing...." p. 208.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Number One Hundred and Two

"A world without right or wrong was a world that did not want itself, anything other than itself, or anything not those two things, but that still wanted something. A world without right or wrong invited you over, complained about you, and gave you cookies. Don't leave, it said, and gave you a vegan cookie. It avoided eye contact, but touched your knee sometimes. It was the world without right or wrong. It didn't have any meaning. It just wanted a little meaning." pp. 179-80.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Number One Hundred and One

"There was an enjoyment to being alive, he felt, that because of an underlying meaninglessness--like how a person alone for too long cannot feel comfortable when with others; cannot neglect that underlying the feeling of belongingness is the certainty, really, of loneliness, and nothingness; and so experiences life in that hurried, worthless way one experiences a mistake (though probably the awareness itself, of nothingness, was the only mistake; some failure of optimism or illusion, to be corrected, somehow)--he could no longer get at." pp. 170-71.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Number One Hundred

Number One Hundred! Time for a Caesura! A Lacuna if you Will! A Blogging Break if you Won't!

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Number Ninety-Eight

and I haven't even mentioned Carolee Schneemann or Sherrie Levine

Monday, April 13, 2009

Number Ninety-Seven

Never mind the why, worry about the how, says Billy Connolly.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Number Ninety-Five

Marclay: vinyl is a medium: for what?: for playing music?: yes: for sculpture?: sure: what else?
a guitar is a medium . . . .
. . . to be used how?. . . .

Friday, April 10, 2009

Number Ninety-Four

a gearing up for the gearing up.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Number Ninety-Three

Soon after we can see, we are aware that we can also be seen. They eye of the other combines with our own eye to make it fully credible that we are part of the visible world.
If we accept that we can see that hill over there, we propose that from that hill we can be seen. The reciprocal nature of vision is more fundamental than that of spoken dialogue.

---John Berger, cribbing from Winnicott.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Number Ninety-Two

to reflect is to redirect?

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Monday, April 6, 2009

Number Ninety

A proper charm bracelet, like this one, is both overcrowded and unreadable, a jangle of details that refuse to coalesce into an explanation. . . . The fish, the typewriter, the acorn (to scale), the globe (not) are not words in a sentence, but objects from the real world fallen down the rabbit hole and brought together by a conspiracy of fortune and design.

The Collections of Barbara Bloom, p. 118.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Number Eighty-Eight

John Cage, Gertrude Stein, Wittgenstein, Ezra Pound.—Still?

Friday, April 3, 2009

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Number Eighty-Six

George Brecht's



Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Number Eighty-Five

Excerpts from
Gloss For An Unknown Language by George Brecht

Tablet 3

Line Character

17 9 Image formed by a moving object for the duration of one breath.

31 7 An object formed by the intersection of an imaginary sphere with
objects of the reference language. (Here used to describe
a plano-convex section of flesh/earth).

31 8 Used by an observer standing at the edge of a body of water
to denote an area of water surface in front of the observer
and the area of earth of equal size and shape behind the observer,
considered as one surface.

Tablet 10

6 4 Everything within the bounds of an imaginary cube having its center
congruent with that of the observer, and an edge of length equal to
the observer's height.

23 9 A verb apparently denoting the motion of a static object. (The
meaning is not clear.)

Tablet 13

19 3 A unit of time derived from the duration of dream events.

45 2 The independent action of two or more persons, considered as a single

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Number Eighty-Four

Steinski is the DJ Spooky of music.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Number Eighty-Three

Kathy Acker not expecting her books to be read from beginning to end.

Julio Cortazar telling you not to.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Number Eighty-Two

One must not forget Nabokov.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Friday, March 27, 2009

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Number Seventy-Seven

From New York Times review of Hiding Man:

As a writer, Barthelme was deeply alert to what was happening in the visual arts, reading the criticism of, say, Harold Rosenberg with the same enthusiasm he brought to Beckett's work as it began to appear in English. Painters like de Kooning seemed to enter his spirit as much as any authors he read; there is a sense in his work, as in that of certain painters, that the human form or presence is worth treating as merely an exiting aspect of line and gesture, tone and texture.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Number Seventy-Six

Which is to say. . .

Surprised by joy—impatient as the Wind
I turned to share the transport—Oh! with whom
But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb
That spot which no vicissitude can find?
Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind—
But how could I forget thee? Through what power,
Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss!—That thought’s return
Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart’s best treasure was no more;
That neither present time, nor years unborn
Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Number Seventy-Five

Though it's updated every day, sometimes I forget this blog exists.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Number Seventy-Four

Cole Swensen is the David Markson of poetry.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Number Seventy-Three

It's a gearing-up process.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Number Seventy-Two

Which voice do you choose?
--with the bank teller
--with your boyfriend

Which voice do you choose to talk to yourself with?
Different voice--different things to say.

--adapted from a Laurie Anderson interview on the 'tube.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Number Seventy-One

DJ Spooky is the Andrea Fraser of music.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Number Seventy

ANDERSON: Every night, he woke up calling, "Fred! Fred! How could you do this to me? How could you go now, after all we've been through together?" And when he woke up, he always said he had never known anyone named Fed, or even Ned, or Ted.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Number Sixty-Nine

ANDERSON: A couple of months ago, an earthquake was reported in parts of the Bronx and New Jersey. It registered 3.5 on the Richter scale, and it was the largest quake of this magnitude since 1927. The scientists at nearby Princeton, however, missed the quake. They said, "At the time of the earthquake, we were changing our chart paper."

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Number Sixty-Eight

When I look I am seen, so I exist.
I can now afford to look and see.
I now look creatively and what I apperceive I also perceive.
In fact I take care not to see what is not there to be seen
(unless I am tired).
--Winnicott, "Mirror-role of Mother and Family in Child Development."

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Number Sixty-Seven

He doesn’t believe in the cosmic significance of coincidence. But whenever he deviates from his routine, something beyond his control goes haywire. He changes outfit unexpectedly before leaving the house and his train is out of service or he gets a bad phone call.

He's also the quintessential Aquarius.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Number Sixty-Six

“Hey man, can I ask you something?”
“Look, I’m homeless. . . I’ve got no place to go. . .”
“And I’ve got no cash”
“Look, man, can you wait to hear what I’ve got to ask you?”
“There’s a crackhead down the street. . . and he’s got my jacket. . . and he’s selling. . .”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help you”

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Number Sixty-Four

Christian Marclay, Raymond Pettibon, and Laurie Anderson walk into a bar.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Number Sixty-Three

Christian Marclay, Raymond Pettibon, and Laurie Anderson

Monday, March 9, 2009

Number Sixty-Two

A person, another person, and a third person walk into a bar.
The bartender says, "Hey, what are you, all together or something?"

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Number Sixty-One

Oulipo in general, Ponge, Calvino

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Number Sixty

I've changed my mind: David Antin all the way.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Number Fifty-Nine

I don't think there is a number fifty-nine. I have a buck-fifty. Do you want a buck-fifty?

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Number Fifty-Eight

"He’s sitting there just as I remembered him, next to the neat little marble-topped table, with its prim lamp in gilt bronze mounted by simple white shade, and behind him a painting that might be by Kenneth Noland but is hard to identify in the tightly held shot that frames him. His face is much the same, flabby and slack, although time has pinched it sadistically, and reddened it. Whenever I would try to picture that face, my memory would produce two seemingly mismatched fragments: the domed shape of the head, bald, rigid, unforgiving; and the flaccid quality of the mouth and lips, which I remember as always slightly ajar, in the logically impossible gesture of both relaxing and grinning. Looking at him now I search for the same effect. As always I am held by the arrogance of the mouth–fleshy, toothy, aggressive–and its pronouncements, which though voiced in a kind of hesitant, stumbling drawl are, as always, implacably final."

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Number Fifty-Seven

"And what about little John Ruskin, with his blond curls and his blue sash and shoes to match, but above all else his obedient silence and his fixed stare? Deprived of toys he fondles the light glinting off a bunch of keys, is fascinated by the burl of the floorboards, counts the bricks in the houses opposite. He becomes the infant fetishist of patchwork. 'The carpet,' he confesses about his playthings, 'and what patterns I could find in bed covers, dresses, or wall-papers to be examined, were my chief resources.' This, his childish solace, soon becomes his talent, his great talent: that capacity for attention so pure and so disinterested that Mazzini calls Ruskin's 'the most analytic mind in Europe.' This is reported to Ruskin. He is modest. He says, "An opinion in which, so far as I am acquainted with Europe, I am myself entirely disposed to concur.'

"Of course, it's easy enough to laugh at Ruskin. The most analytic mind in Europe did not even know how to frame a coherent argument. The most analytic mind in Europe produced Modern Painters, a work soon to be known as one of the worst-organized books ever to earn the name of literature. Prolix, endlessly digressive, a mass of description, theories that trail off into inconclusiveness, volume after volume, a flood of internal contradiction."

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Number Fifty-Six

Brick, Concrete;
Asphalt, Mortar;
Some Wood;
Some Leaves;
Everyone I know is spastic.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Number Fifty-Five



Sunday, March 1, 2009

Number Fifty-Four

If I am only what you think of me --

When is a story not a cover-up?

My naked roommate asks me to place two trash bags in front of his bedroom door.

If stories are lies we tell in order to live --
If stories are lies we tell in order to cohere --

As he strums on another’s guitar in another’s room, is he....

If I am only what you think of me --

'I' is to forwarding address as….

Saturday, February 28, 2009

Number Fifty-Three

A Deleuzian, Poundian, Antinian prose. Fluid, other-oriented, skeptical, open, outwardly directed.

Friday, February 27, 2009

Number Fifty-Two

"Painting that is almost possible, almost does not exist, that is not quite known, not quite seen."

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Number Fifty-One

"The one standard in art is oneness and fineness, rightness and purity, abstractness and evanescence. The one thing to say about art is its breathlessness, lifelessness, deathlessness, contentlessness, formlessness, spacelessness, and timelessness. This is always the end of art."

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Number Fifty

There are no Google results for " Look, an approaching camel!"

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Number Forty-Nine

"The nothingness of art is not nothingness."

Number Forty-Eight

"I heard someone say that it is easy to attack everything, and I have been thinking about how difficult it is. I would like to attack almost everything."

Monday, February 23, 2009

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Number Forty-Five

"lettristic landscape"

Friday, February 20, 2009

Number Forty-Four

Water and shaving in the morning.
Is this what people do?

If so,
What people?

And why?

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Number Forty-One

One, two
Two birds.

Three, four

But, I had it.

Five, six

Then again.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Friday, February 13, 2009

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Number Thirty-Six

"hegemonic discourse"

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Monday, February 9, 2009

Number Thirty-Three

Pinks are punks who are into glam rock.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Number Thirty-Two

Slapdashical doesn't come up with any results either.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Number Thirty-One

A month of blogging! Time for vacation!

Friday, February 6, 2009

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Number Twenty-Nine

People who say beauty is only skin deep: do they not know about bone structure?

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Number Twenty-Eight

If everyone is a tourist at Disneyland, is anyone a tourist at Disneyland? Why do news reports call them tourists? What if they're locals? Park visitors? But calling Disneyland a park is stretching the concept about as far as calling its visitors tourists. Ban everything is the answer.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Number Twenty-Seven

There is only one result for "luckily the cat didn't land on its feet this time" and you're looking at it, baby.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Number Twenty-Six

If Ron Silliman competed in the Satanic Olympics with Hiroshige in the bacon sex and death triathlon held in Los Angeles at the Mary Cassatt fish and chips wildlife enclosure, would this blog generate more hits from Google?

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Number Twenty-Five

Resistance is good because it gives shape to things. -Armantrout

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Number Twenty-Four

Everybody's heard of the butterfly effect. Rube.

Friday, January 30, 2009

Number Twenty-Three

If you don't now, you never will, unless you do, in which case you have.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Number Twenty-Two

The beauty of being a degenerate is that no one invites you to speak at the local high school.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Number Twenty-One

I'm only allergic to three things: liquids, solids, and gases.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Number Eighteen

Don't be a shmendrick; try to be a mentsh.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Number Seventeen

There are no Google results for "sexy bitches named Fred"

Friday, January 23, 2009

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Number Thirteen

I've lost the will to live.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Number Twelve

Some people know more than others. Some people have more than others. Some people are more than others. In that they are fatter, more alive, or taller.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Number Eleven

What is needed is a world-directed buddhism. Like Nietzsche's.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Number Ten

The most satisfying relationship is the one in which the other person's version of you is the one you like best.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Number Nine

location, location, location

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Number Eight

Photographers tend to kill themselves; I don't know why.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Number Seven

For the theatre one needs long arms; it is better to have them too long than too short. An artiste with short arms can never, never make a fine gesture. --Roland Barthes

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Number Six

Muji notebooks are the best of all in all respects.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Number Five

Maxwell House Colombian Coffee is very good; and I'm used to the expensive stuff!

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Number Four

To maintain sanity, you must be able to maintain a playful relationship with life. For example, you can wear brown shoes with a black sweater in the house when no one's around.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Number Three

To stay up-to-date in the current cultural climate:


Not the freedom that isn't there, but the plenitude that is.

Not the depth that isn't there, but the amplitude that is.

Friday, January 9, 2009

Number Two

Moleskine notebook paper is of cheaper quality than Rhodia notebook paper in every respect.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Number One

You can use the same utensil for the same purpose for a week before you get disgusted with yourself.