What I’ve been reading – as I mentioned, World’s Greatest Alien Abductions, here’s the best bit so far:
“In September 1955 the 27 year old Josef Wanderka was riding his moped down a road in Austria when he inadvertently rode straight up the ramp of a flying saucer. He apologised profusely to the occupants, who explained – in perfect German, naturally – that they were from the ‘top point of Casseopea’. Eventhough they were plainly adept at interstellar travel, they were fascinated by his moped and wanted to know how the engine worked. The aliens were of the ‘Nordic’ type: tall with blue eyes and blonde hair. Fearing that they might be harbouring totalitarian tendencies (Austria had been de-Nazified relatively recently), he launched into an anti-fascist diatribe. They evidently found this so boring that they kicked him out of their flying saucer without subjecting him to an invasive medical examination.”
Also a while back I heard a(nother) voice in my head – and this time it was Zellar saying that I should read Nightwood by Djuna Barnes. And I did. I don’t think it was written by a crazy woman. I’m sure I could get more out of it by going through it another ten times or so. Some of descriptions were pretty different, in this case, different is good. Seem to remember a bit about indoor plants at night that had the subtlest hint of evil about it – very nice. I had to borrow a uni library copy; the 2nd hand bookshop man telling me that while it had a bit of a literary rep, it had no volume. It’s rare to come across books like that, usually if publishers can stick a new cover on and churn ’em out, they will. I suppose it was a bit hard to follow — seemed like a lot of the ‘he said’, ‘she said’ tags were missing. Although I only read it in snatches late at night.
Also am reading The Consolations of Philosophy. Coming up against the word philosphy has made me cringe ever since I did my lolly, one fine afternoon in an Eastern Religions class a couple of years ago. I wrestled WolfBoy, a classmate, to the ground and bit a chunk out of his scalp. It was his fault. He was trying to start up the “But, Is this table really a table?” ‘discussion’. Of course it’s a fucking table.
DeBotton, who wrote this book is doing a fairly good job at dumbing down philosphy to an acceptable level necessary for this visually oriented, short-attention–
It’s kind of like a self-help book for snooty people. I like it. It introduces you to some of the main Playas and I suppose if you wanted to you could read more of their stuff if there was any who hit your wave-length.