(7/21/01-cont'd)

Anything revealed behind
a smokescreen. The world
is enough and is filled
with time. If it is
running out of the
other side of the
question. Which invariably
answers itself, the
sound of a screaming
jet forever in my ears.
The distance, a
makeover was a series
of suggestions soon to
be passé. They think
and earn themselves a
piece of learning. Sky
is a kind of trite
incomprehensibility. There
is nothing ordinary
about it. Follows suit.
Makeshift attitudes
suffice. Nearing the
perpetuator eventually.
The words translate
themselves. Each has
a face. Each face
has its ludicrous
side and is also
conspicuously variable:- in
the time it takes to change
pens all facts have been
replaced. Alteration is a
way of forgetting. This is
how each is disguised
but in the light of day
you can recognize a
face and its changing
expression. "If a fool
would persist in his
folly he would be wise."
(Blake). Don't forget to send one
to Joan (of ellipsis)
Retallack. Ain't it the truth?
Work just creates more work.
Don't be so upset by the
fact that the trickster
makes ample use of
decoys (the kind of
military garb that uses
this). The trail leads us
right to the entrance.
The door is the cover to
a dictionary. Follow the
faces one to the other
like a sleuth. The
reader is the suspect
in this tale of intrigue,
betrayal and mistrust.
But even for perhaps particularly
the violence is nuanced.
To have method in
your madness you must
have madness to your
method. Time is a
suspect too, as are
almost all ideologies.
They had their dreamers
too. If you wait for you whole
lifetime, you will finally
do it, but you may
not be able to match
the outcome with
the original intention.
As the reader,
you are the casting
director, not just the
projectionist. All's fair
in aphorisms and lies. I'm
not Haydn so come and
get me. Seventeen and forty-
two.

What an atrocious understanding
that listens without wit.