tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19661405.post6731414762711741701..comments2023-10-20T09:13:15.862-04:00Comments on Swedish Meatballs Confidential (pNSFW): My Chicago -- Flying Long In and Longer OverM1http://www.blogger.com/profile/05394503964463278951noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19661405.post-21831098868225808372011-07-09T22:08:36.185-04:002011-07-09T22:08:36.185-04:00I get it, kinda'sadly and happily so.
ThnxI get it, kinda'sadly and happily so.<br /><br />ThnxM1https://www.blogger.com/profile/05394503964463278951noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19661405.post-41625239946428315982011-07-09T22:04:32.248-04:002011-07-09T22:04:32.248-04:00That part you quote in GR is quite late into the b...That part you quote in GR is quite late into the book...[redacted]<br /><br />Here's an important part, earlier in the book [...]<br /><br />"There doesn’t exactly dawn, no but there breaks, as that light you’re afraid will break some night at too deep an hour to explain away—there floods on<br />Enzian what seems to him an extraordinary understanding. This serpentine slag-heap he is just about to ride into now, this ex-refinery, Jamf Ölfabriken Werke<br />AG, is not a ruin at all. It is in perfect working order.Only waiting for the right connections to be set up, to be switched on . . . modified, precisely, deliberately<br />by bombing that was never hostile, but part of a plan both sides—”sides?”—had always agreed on . . . yes and now what if we—all right, say we are supposed to be<br />the Kabbalists out here, say that’s our real Destiny, to be the scholar-magicians of the Zone, with somewhere in it a Text, to be picked to pieces, annotated,<br />explicated, and masturbated till it’s all squeezed limp of its last drop . . . well we assumed—natürlich!—that this holy Text had to be the Rocket, orururumo<br />orunene the high, rising, dead, the blazing, the great one (“orunene” is already being modified by the Zone-Herero children to “omunene,” the eldest brother). . . our Torah. What else? Its symmetries, its latencies, the cuteness of it enchanted and seduced us while the real Text persisted, somewhere else, in its darkness, our darkness . . . even this far from Südwest we are not to be spared the ancient tragedy of lost messages, a curse that will never leave us. . . .<br /><br />"But, if I’m riding through it, the Real Text, right now, if this is itAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com