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From Prof. Oddfellow's sketchbook:
Jeff writes: Esoteric time + "a joyful humming sound given off by spider webs during electrical storms" . . . this can only mean one thing: surrealism is poised to make a comeback in six hours, give or take.
I, for one, am boggled by the possibilities!
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From A Surrealist Dictionary by J. Karl Bogartte: GOWN: A joyful humming sound given off by spider webs during electrical storms.
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"You have with you the book you were reading ... which you are eager to continue, so that you can then hand it on to her, to communicate again with her through the channel dug by others' words, which, as they are uttered by an alien voice, by the voice of that silent nobody made of ink and typographical spacing, can become yours and hers, a language, a code between the two of you, a means to exchange signals and recognize each other." — Italo Calvino, If On a Winter's Night a Traveler (We've mentioned that this book is a masterpiece, right?)
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What he saw, not only of reality but even in his imagination, was often blurred by fever, but within that vague dimness his cancer appeared to him as a flourishing bed of yellow hyacinths or possibly chrysanthemums bathed in a faint, purple light. —Kenzaburo Oé, The Day He Himself Shall Wipe My Tears Away, translated by John Nathan, 1977.
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The sunsets in that African hell proved to be fabulous. They never missed. As tragic every time as a monumental murder of the sun! . . . For a whole hour the sky paraded in great delirious spurts of scarlet from end to end; after that the green of the trees exploded and rose up in quivering trails to meet the first stars. Then the whole horizon turned gray again and then red, but this time a tired red that didn’t last long. That was the end. All the colors fell back down on the forest in tatters, like streamers after the hundredth performance. It happened every day at exactly six o’clock. —Louis-Ferdinand Céline, Journey To The End Of The Night, 1934, translated by Ralph Manheim, 1983.
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"How to establish the exact moment in which a story begins? Everything has already begun before, the first line of the first page of every novel refers to something that has already happened outside the book. Or else the real story is the one that begins ten or a hundred pages further on, and everything that precedes it is only a prologue." — Italo Calvino, If On a Winter's Night a Traveler (We need not mention how wonderful this book is.)
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Saint Ravioli Patron of Pasta Making.
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| I Found a Penny Today, So Here's a Thought |
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Can some types of knowledge be considered "luxuries"? Here's Robertson Davies' take on "ornamental knowledge": Well, allow me to introduce myself to you as an advocate of Ornamental Knowledge. You like the mind to be a neat machine, equipped to work efficiently, if narrowly, and with no extra bits or useless parts. I like the mind to be a dustbin of scraps of brilliant fabric, odd gems, worthless but fascinating curiosities, tinsel, quaint bits of carving, and a reasonable amount of healthy dirt. Shake the machine and it goes out of order; shake the dustbin and it adjusts itself beautifully to its new position.
via Omegaword.
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| Puzzles and Games :: Which is Funnier |
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Which philosopher is funnier: Spinoza or Voltaire?
Clue: This is according to a Torah scholar.
Answer: Voltaire. (The answer is in black text on the black background. Highlight it to view.)
Citation: Jacob Neusner, The Life of Torah (1974), p. 100.
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From Prof. Oddfellow's sketchbook:
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