COUNTDOWN TO GREATNESS

8 hrs

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Alvaro Rousselot's Journey by Roberto Bolano
http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/features/2007/11/26/071126fi_fiction_bolano

But the action of that sinister and eminently sardonic character Time has prompted a reconsideration of Rousselot’s apparent simplicity. Perhaps he was complicated. By which I mean more complicated than we had imagined. Or, there is an alternative explanation: perhaps he was simply another victim of chance.

Such cases are not unusual among lovers of literature like Rousselot. In fact, they are not unusual among lovers of anything. In the end, we all outlast the object of our adoration, perhaps because passion runs its course more swiftly than other human emotions, perhaps as a result of excessive familiarity with the object of desire.

In any case, Rousselot loved literature as much as any Argentine writer of his generation, or of the preceding and following generations, which is to say that he loved literature in a reasonably disillusioned manner, like many of his compatriots.

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Dance Card by Roberto Bolano
http://www.pen.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/1289/prmID/1502

67. When our names no longer mean a thing, his will go on shining, his will go on soaring over an imaginary domain called Chilean Literature. 68. By then all poets will live in artistic communities called jails or asylums. 69. Our imaginary home, the home we share.

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incredibly creepy life-like robot


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geto boys - mind playing tricks on me (live)


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Newt Gingrich wants to steal the moon


cat power - the moon


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Contes immoraux (1974)





GUY: Come here, come as close as you can. Look. You see? It’s 11:27. For a long time, I have thirsted for your mouth like water in a desert. Now, at last, I can quench that thirsty desire.

GIRL: You’re going to kiss me on the mouth?

GUY: Not on the mouth. But your mouth will welcome me…as I told you. I thought you understood: the way whores do. There I shall stay while the tide rises, more than half an hour. Meantime, lest you thoughtlessly eject me, I shall explain the tidal mechanism. Pay heed to what I do in your mouth, and to what I say about the tide rising like my desire. At 11:27 exactly, I’ll flood into your mouth. This requires self-control, and though you’re a little older than me, I have mastered it. I will therefore need to concentrate, and you must concentrate too. Focus on anything you like…yourself, me, someone you love, something you desire. Above all, try to sense how my mounting desire achieves fulfillment. When I flood into you, swallow obediently and with pleasure, my gift to you. This is essential: it is my gift of life. Think of it as a gift brought you by the surging tides of the sea. My thoughts, meanwhile, I need not tell you… Hurry up, we've got no time to lose.

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Toyin Odutolas
http://www.toyinodutola.com/