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The slow reads digest. A free, once-in-a-while ezine affording slow passages from here to there.
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![[Picture]](Images/4RtPicBookstalls.jpg)
Everydayandeverynight.com.
I'm launching my journal again for 5768/2008.
In this omer journal, I take a Jewish-mythic point-of-view which presumes that I, personally, together with all Jews past, present and future, left Egypt and stood at Mt. Sinai together. This perspective challenges each Jew to join the Jewish experience and not be limited by the actual historical time period in which one lives. This perspective places human imagination at the center of religious engagement.
Our leaving Egypt is only the beginning of our path to liberation. Free from the bonds of Pharaoh, we seek a better, more human life. We begin this journey by the shores of the Nile. We look back in awe at a sea now appearing normal after having miraculously parted. But what now?
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Via Negativa.
It was my birthday, and I had been given a live shrew in a box — not for a pet, but simply to admire and to photograph. I was a little disappointed at first that I didn’t get any real presents, but the shrew was an admirably fierce little creature who attacked anything thrust in its direction, and I soon appreciated the wisdom of the gesture: loaning me a fully wild creature, something that can never be owned or controlled. The idea that anyone can own anything — it’s such a delusion, isn’t it? But that’s what drives this mania of consumption imperiling the earth.
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Mole.
Darling,
The rain you sent was mixed with snow.
I could not tell which between
The snowflakes and the apple blossom
On the black sidewalk; I woke and you were
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The Middlewesterner.
You see what you see. Don't beat yourself up too badly about it. Tomorrow the sky will be something different, a blue sheerness of petticoat, a shiny muslin, a white gauze.
Metaphor takes you away; it doesn't bring you back. You come back on your own if you get here at all.
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Lekshe's Mistake.
Place
is not substance, not
a point in space,
more a point in time
when the conjunction of mind
and matter create
an experience
that
makes us believe there is a spot
to which we can return.
[Here's the whole poem.]
Marcia Bonta.
Dragoo, affectionately referred to as “Skunk Man,” has little or no sense of smell, so as a mephitologist he can easily study and live with skunks. When he wants one for his research, he chases it down, picks it up by its tail, and is liberally sprayed, because, as skunk expert Richard G. Van Gelder discovered back in the 1960s, you can only grab a skunk by the tail and escape being sprayed if you surprise the animal. Otherwise, it is able to evert its anus and expose the nipples from its huge and squishy scent sacs, which are then ready to fire even if you do pick it up by its tail.
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Dick Jones' Patteran Pages.
Your soft clock
scatters seconds like
peas on a drum.
A feather pulse
stutters in your
neck.
[Here's the whole poem.]
![[duck photo]](Images/4RtPicDuck.jpg)
Slow Reader.
Aubrey is the guru of the Shelf Monkeys, a secret ‘book club’ to which Thomas gets invited. “Some books are simply a waste of paper, a waste of effort both to write and to read.” The flaming cover of this novel is sufficient clue to the book burnings that ensue, inspired by Fahrenheit 451. Books burnings, by the literate?! Only for books deemed not worthy by the members’ code. “We meet, we debate, we burn. It’s therapy, really.” Things escalate quickly and darkly, Lord of the Flies style, and Thomas is compelled to choose between his loyalties to his friends, literature, ethics, and his sanity.
[Here's the whole post.]
blogroll
Blaugustine
Box Elder
The Cassandra
Pages
Creature of
the Shade
Crack Skull Bob
Dharmakara's Prayer
Daintee
Dialogues with Silence
Dick Jones's
Patteran Pages
Empreintes
Everydayandeverynight.com
Feathers
of Hope
Fragments
from Floyd
Frizzy Logic
Heraclitean Fire
Hoarded
Ordinaries
In
a Dark Time
Irishmutt
Iron Monkey
Lekshe's
Mistake
Listening After
Dark
Marcia Bonta
The
Middlewesterner
Mole
9 to 5 Poet
Not
Native Fruit
On the
Slow Train
Outside
the Lines
Paula's House of Toast
Qarrtsiluni
The Rain in My Purse
Sage Said
So
Scenes from a Slow-Moving Train
Shadow Cabinet
Simply Wait
Slow Reading
Spoil
Stony Moss
3rd
House Party
This
Too
Tumblewords
Two
Dishes but to One Table
Under
the Fire Star
Verbal Privilege
Via Negativa |