craptastic!

here i keep watching these movies.

and keep going to these apartments.

and everyone has the bookcases of dreams.

and i've got maybe a dozen piles of books on the floor.

with more in the closets.

Got a friend at Davidco

No, it's not David. Though I have spoken with him on the phone.

She's wonderful. Started out working together on an order I made that was screwed up.

Now we write each other with a little frequency. In a weird way, it's kind of like this. I mean, I don't know this woman from Adam. Never spoken with her over the phone, even.

But she's married. All the good ones are.

so borred

don't quit know what to do with myself.

best clean and shelve. so many books.

haven't seen my little friends in a while--the roommates, cockroaches.

now, don't be like that. almost every place i've lived, since home, has had them.

the joys of student life.

knowing you're never alone.

my plan

was to get all drunk and shelve books.

but i spent more time doing this than shelving books.

which means that i shelved more books than i would have if i had just meant to shelve books, because i would have turned on the phone and called people.

so atleast i yelled at the interweb instead of bothering people.

the real purpose of shelving

it makes you think of every book you own.

why?

why isn't this a book i sell/throw away.

maybe you're not like me, but when i go to an apartment (or house, should i be so lucky). the first thing i look at is the books.

used to look behind the mirror in the bathroom, rooting for medications. thought that was the pigeon hole. then found too many behind my own and thought about what they say. rather shallow, really.)

and bookcases say so much more.

so, i was once in the waiting room of a rather expensive complex in chicago land, rather near the lake, and rather near the mag mile. and in the loby books everywhere. but not like you'd expect. covering everything. from the trash pot boilers that may have never been catalogued to things that you've never seen or read about. and the porter cxomes up to you and says, "you know, your're the first person to look at these books. they're decoration."

and you're no, like, it's an archive.

and you know you've been studying too long.

what the frak is up

ok. my collection is heavily weighted towards ango-american and european ''thought'' for want of a better word.

And my books were arranged at random.

it's either the gods of chance fracking with me, or there is a deficiency of thinkers within this part of the alpha-beta, which means, if your last name is between the two, the world is crying out for you. just gosh darn speak!

yeah, a lot of posts

so, the shelving is not going.

i'm too wrapped up in this.

but back to pleasurable work.

oh, the trials and tribulations of the graduate school.

you turn what is for others a pleasure into a job.

unlikely bedfellows

Benjamin has this essay--unpacking his library.

That's kind of what i'm doing right now.

after my father died, i kind of half-assed it. unpacked, sure, but i was interested in failure and chaos at the time (now i just experience them) and so i just let different things brush up against eachother.

you'd think interesting things would come of it. but either it doesn't work that way or i was too stupid at the time (and i kind of doubt the latter explanation).

but alpha-beta, well that just can't be beat. irony of the greeks still living with us. check out these two:

descartes with philip dick--totally makes sense.

weber-weil-weiner--crazy-ass psycho, but there might be something there, if i ever get to pull it together.

and if anyone has a book report due (mine's already mapped out "thing to object"--i've got no idea how i got that one working), go ahead and begin where you will.