Double Penetration

When her great-grandmother asked who the father was, María Expósito remembered a kind of delicious abyss and had a very clear vision: She saw herself, small but mysteriously strong, able to take three men at once. They hurl themselves on me panting like dogs, she thought, from in front and behind so that I can hardly breathe and their cocks are enormous, they’re the cocks of Mexico’s peasant revolution, but inside I’m bigger than them all and they’ll never conquer me.
-Roberto Bolaño, Woes of the True Policeman, 182

Mirrors of the True Policeman

The shirt was green with swaying palm trees and blue waves tipped with the purest white foam and red convertibles and white hotels and yellow cake and tourists dressed in Hawaiian shirts identical to the Great Hawaiian Shirt with swaying palm trees and blue waves and red convertibles as if infinitely repeated in a pair of facing mirrors. No, not infinitely, thought Amalfitano. In one of the reflections, one of the layers, the tourists would be unsmiling, their shirts black.
-Roberto Bolaño, Woes of the True Policeman, 79


We had slipped into a strange kind of time: a kind that, instead of passing, accumulated.
-Sam Thompson, Communion Town, 14 (2012)

Έτσι ο χρόνος δεν κυλούσε, αλλά συσσωρευόταν μέρα με την ημέρα, νεκρός και αποσυντεθειμένος όπως οι μυρωδιές των αλλαντικών σ’ ένα υπόγειο κελάρι.
-Ευγένιος Αρανίτσης, Λεπτομέρειες για το Τέλος του Κόσμου, 45 (1993)

Time did not seem to pass as much as build, slowly gathering weight.
-Don DeLillo, Great Jones Street, 126 (1973)
Watch this entity closely. There are things to come.

Watch this entity closely. There are things to come.

(Source: frankmoth)

Polite Social Conversation

I make it a rule never to give people favorable opinions of their work – not even those exceptional, open-minded people who admire my theories concerning reality and its dissolution through polite social conversation.

―Donald Antrim, The Verificationist, 7


“Which is to say, Laney, anything that might be of interest to Slitscan’s audience. Which is best visualized as a vicious, lazy, profoundly ignorant, perpetually hungry organism craving the warm god-flesh of the anointed. Personally I like to imagine something the size of a baby hippo, the color of a week-old  boiled potato, that lives by itself, in the dark, in a double-wide on the outskirts of Topeka. It’s covered with eyes and it sweats constantly. The sweat runs into those eyes and makes them sting. It has no mouth, Laney, no genitals, and can only express its mute extremes of murderous rage and infantile desire by changing the channels on a universal remote. Or by voting in presidential elections.”

―William Gibson, Idoru, 28

Dubrovnik, 1991

"You can always see an ancient city better when it’s been bombed."
-William Gaddis, The Recognitions, 910


5. Poets go to bed earliest, followed by short story writers, then novelists. The habits of playwrights are unknown.


Perpetual Machines

"A mathematician is a machine for turning coffee into theorems.”
-Alfréd Rényi

Forward the Panopticon!

"There are no secrets here in the Panopticon."

-Jenni Fagan, The Panopticon, 21