Synchronicity

Jul 20, 2004 21:50

A telephone call: "Max, I've got three tickets to [name omitted]'s reading tonight. Would you like to go heckle him ( Read more... )

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Question, worth 64 cents. anonymous July 28 2004, 09:10:17 UTC
Dear sir:
What will you do when your doppelganger leaves your large Southeastern city behind? You will be like a dreadful late Malevich--white on white on white walls.
I am yours sincerely,
An admirer.

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Everytime you put in two cents you get change maxoverly July 28 2004, 13:41:18 UTC
Dear Columbia University Student:

I do not profess out loud the ethos of Art for Art's Sake because I believe it redundant and self-evident; but since you ask, I must say that I think self-indulgence really only reaches its rightful fruition when there is no longer any self to indulge. All art, eventually, is just white on white on white walls, if for no other reason than that all art is eventually a more and more transparent reflection of the self. The shade of white-the perception of the self-is the only thing that can be said to vary, and eventually even these distinctions become irrelevant.

I am yours sincerely,
An enigma wrapped within a tortilla wrapped within several pages of bad situational comedy

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Re: Everytime you put in two cents you get change anonymous July 28 2004, 14:45:06 UTC
Dear sir:

Does this purple prose poem relate to your dual spelling of la gamine (I'm disturbed by the meaning shift between the masculine and feminine, and I suspect the French may be fatally indulgent towards women) referenced throughout your work? If so, I do beg your gracious explanation.

Discussion of fourteen-year-olds, be they Virginian or Continental half-breeds, reminds me--oh, do avail yourself of this week's TLS!

I am respectfully
you ardent admirer.

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maxoverly July 28 2004, 20:05:15 UTC
Dear Ardent:

Alas, I cannot consult this week's TLS, as the only reference books I have to hand are a Portugese-to-French dictionary and (of course) a copy of "Timon of Athens" in a forgotten Russian dialect. (I would say that there is a very loud traveling carnival outside my current lodging, but I rather suspect the carnival is within.)

As for the Annabel/Annabelle dichotomy, one would have to consult a more recent experiment in gerrymandering the borders between adjacent counties of fiction and reality. A recent Vintage paperback edition of a novel by Mr. "No, That's American Fiction" had a different title printed on the spine than that which was printed on the cover.

I am, your humble &c.,
M. Overly

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