Distribution Automatique

Thursday, February 9

Contradictory Aphorisms (Contradicta)

Never reveal what makes you happy, or at least conceal some things, because unless you can be surprised, you will never be loved.


Hidden hearts, like flowers in darkness, wilt quickly.


One by one the finest philosophers concluded they should no longer try to tell us how to live. Imperceptibly, yet gradually, an immense sadness fell upon the world and the sadists took over.


Think for yourself or go mad with everyone.


Nota Bene

Contradiction is not a sign of falsity, nor the lack of contradiction a sign of truth.
-Blaise Pascal (1623 - 1662)

(thanks to Ray DiPalma for sending in this quote)

Wednesday, February 8

Bachelard's *Dialectic of Duration*

is very interesting and I spent part of my morning reading its captivating phenomenological musings, mostly having to do with Bergson who I should read more of. Then I began considering why I've so frequently defended so-called "bad" poetry when I've heard poets gripe about it. I understood, in my Bachelardian reverie, why I prefer even boring poetry, philosophy or almost any intellectualizing to everyday complaining. I realized this must have happened because even the most trivial poetic or philosophical thinking is more interesting than thinking about my own complaints, even the "legitimate" ones; focusing for awhile on other people's objections to poetry or philosophy or blogging they don't like is still more enjoyable than those seemingly endless repetitious ruminations about everyday annoyances.

What led me to Bachelard? Probably the title of a blog I've been reading regulary lately: Bachelardette [click here]

Contradict myself, very well then...

I've been thinking lately about contradictory aphorisms, and how they can both be true. Wasn't it Rousseau who said that if you don't talk about yourself you'll never say much at all; and who was it that said a boring conversationalist is one who talks about themselves, but an interesting one is one who talks about you?

Sunday, February 5


Specific events or declarations (external) or particular insights or revelations (internal) are like notes and chords in melodies that are repeatedly heard and experienced but not quite yet identified or recognized for their irresistible and pursuasive social effects- until well after those infectious, catchy tunes- and the musicians who played and exulted in them- have exited the stage and become part of history. What you noticed, again and again, is that you were tapping your foot all the way home, that's all.

He Who Laughs Apps

Guess what recent superbly hilarious performance inspired the little theoretical object you see above?

Gary Sulivan's performance at the Bowery Poetry Club this past Saturday is already legendary- but hopefully will be appearing soon on Penn Sound, as will, I might expect, Marshall Reese's excellently stirring reading.

(for an excellent evocation of the reading and oeuvres of the two readers, by Jack Kimball [click here])

Gary Sullivan dedicated his final work at the BPC on Saturday, a playlet featuring Jim Behrle and Sharon Mesmer, to Stan Apps.

Here, Oracular Vagina [click here] fluffs flarf. Standard Schaefer, author of *Nova* and *Water and Power* weighs in on googlism, via Lucipo.

While the powers that be barter our beings for a few quarts of oil, the least we can do is entertain ourselves with the flarf whirrs.

-a sunny Tuesday in February


Slam poetics is back!
Read the latest round in Stan vs Stan, the flarf whirs:

Standard Schaefer's response with a response from Stan Apps [click here]

Tuesday afternoon- and still sunny!

You're Toast in an Unquiet Grave

Tony Tost [click here]
has been embedded in the flarf whirs for awhirl now.

-sunset and tea time on Tuesday, Feb 7th.
(Warmest January on record in NY)