Koyaanisqatsi

The biographer therefore must make a choice---to penetrate that private reality and write a book that gives some sense of a life as it was lived, or to write some other sort of book, a commentary from the outside. -- Sheldon M. Novick

The contusion on my mother's profile from the left, just above the socket, during her survival flight from this excuse she married, erroneously, for the sake of her bastard child, was strangely beautiful. I am forgetful of the direction of the flight. She either followed Stuart to the Midwest and fled as fast as she could drive back home, or it was the reverse, and the fact that her little sister married a deputy chief of police whom Stuart feared, this saved my mother's life. Where the rest of us were also leaves me at a loss, but in a haze, perhaps we had left Mary's care to return to my father, for I was in my house when my mother's suffering could be read in her face. I feel guilty that I could not kill Stuart myself, as Nick Nolte did in his flashbacks that led to more sex with Streisand. (I wonder if anyone ever really enjoyed sleeping with her thus rendering her as PG sex kitten, but that Freudian aspect is as dated as Nancy Friday.)

I know I am quadriplegic and that level of expectation is a high water mark, but I did not protect my family, and got drawn into Stuart's predation trying to accept the man, and he was, in the truest sense. a revulsion, having no corresponding value as an alternate to natural harmony.

When I had my first email exchange with Sheldon, my grievance was a living crucifixion (don't believe the process they have posted, zealous Liberty; they will give you an audience but marginalize you with everything they have if you happen to have a Title II case, legitimately, against them, and, as an officer of the court, Tom Earle did not investigate or penalize Linda for what she did to humiliate me in front of my former neighborhood friends from the suburbs), so I caught him off guard, inadvertently, poor Sheldon, and later lost him and Sarah [for those of you keeping score I have had conflicts or frictions with five Jamesians, and was in the wrong twice, but care about the third--I liked the fact that Greg treated my article proposal with respect and my ego is still bruised that such manner, mutual courtesy, is now gone because I was tongue in cheek about spam] from my group. That is old egotistical tyranny. Smile.

The good Doctor Novick suggested I add my spin to the life of Alice. I am sure Strouse handles the job admirably. I am not a scholar of the lives of those who make the western canon, except for Italian modernists, should I live long enough, I might be swayed to caress such ribs as remain intact of Giuseppe. I think, for the prurient scholars who remain fascinated with Henry's penis, an anthropologist in the other department should apply for a grant to unravel the DNA sequence to gain insight into why a drug addict founded American psychology, whether Henry actually did pinch hit over the chamber pot exit, and whether Alice was muted as a lesbian invalid because she wanted to secretly wed a royal like Vincentio and imitated Isabella, dying in stunned silence.

My printer is not yet installed. But you are able to infer I am always behind.

Schismatic Espresso Breaks

"No you're not!" Timothy Artis admonishing me after I asserted I was rotten.

What Tim and I never say is implicit in our actions, our tolerance of each other out of necessity. He needs my ready payment unregulated by Medicaid waiver administration, and I need his relatively non-judgmental ability to handle my domestic interior, though this is slowing due to the fact that my freelancing is all but brain dead, with my recent laptop setbacks, and the fact that I am utilizing delay with one tenth that of Laurence Sterne's timing.

Let's cut to the chase: Am I a racist? Not in the evolutionary sense. As a matter of biology Tim is superior to me in many functional respects, but in terms of sociological dynamics I suppose many of you would feel comfortable giving me that label because of what Kevyn Orr signifies, even in the 21st century. Philadelphia, Chicago, Detroit, places like Compton in California. All black cities that seep into the cracks and filter through the white working class, sometimes striking the truly affluent. Is it fair of me to suggest that the black inner city is responsible for Garrett's propensity to addict and od himself? It happened in my family as well, and Nicholas did not need black drug dealers to destruct in the end, but enablement is a relevant issue, and the fact that a mature man of sixty two has to engage in infantilism, asking the disabled woman still struggling on the straight and narrow for a cash advance because he "needs cigarettes." Well, we have not come that far yet, not in my terminology of community integration. Although I dream to get good enough so that my voyeur viewers will one day give me enough support for this small happiness. It would be more convenient for you to download me to your kindle, and I'd only work harder. If you are working, what is another 99 cents?

I have not installed my apparently cheap laser jet yet, and need to take care of that, at least to ensure that I will not have to return it, tweaked some minor revisions here, I will attempt to take a break, plow back into rewriting what I have to, having rode out my pc illiterate grief (it struck me hard). I have held up on continuing with my conspiracy theory analysis because I do actually see it as applicable, and not simply a matter of reaction. To disagree with the state of Israel does not make one automatically guilty of anti-semiticism. Sheldon is a weighty and cerebral optimist in his Jamesian scholarship, and more than that, he is a delight to read while his thesis gains in illumination, so get to it. I have sworn myself silly that I am starting The Young Master later into Saturday morning. Perhaps you too would join the chorus led by Leon Edel.

I think the sheer audacity of Henry James and Oliver Wendell Holmes jacking off is an indelible source of amusement, and there is nothing to suggest Sheldon's homoerotic imagination is wrong.

If I change my mind I'll be back later.