![]() ![]() One cannot imagine a more judicious restriction. I dream of a language whose words, like fists, would fracture jaws.Ĭow' s urine was the only medicine monks were authorized to use in the first Buddhist communities. Man, that exterminator, has designs on everything that lives, everything that moves: soon we shall be talking about the last louse. ![]() There is no point in being a monster if you are not also a theoretician of the monstrous. We may be sure that the twenty-first century, more advanced than ours, will regard Hitler and Stalin as choirboys. Since things continue to get worse from generation to generation, to predict catastrophes is a normal activity, a duty of the mind.In history, we are always on the threshold of the worse.That is what makes history interesting, what makes us hate it, and be unable to detach ourselves from it. But without backup from coalition forces that had driven Saddam Hussein's regime out of Kuwait, hundreds of thousands were killed. The residents of Basra, an important center of Iraq's Shiite population and Iraq' s second-largest city, staged an uprising after the Persian Gulf War of 1991. Saddam Hussein: He always was a friend to the Motor City. You Never Hear About All The Good Things He's Done It is conducted for the benefit of the very few at the expense of the masses. Only a small inside group knows what it is about. A racket is best described, I believe, as something that is not what it seems to the majority of people. Firstly-though not necessarily in an organized sequence-a BBC reporter acknowledged in an almost wistful way that: "It is easy to be blinded by the gee-whizery of it all." I overheard two things on the radio that I would like to note for further thought at another time. Here's a characteristic example (and you'll have to go to the site to find out the second thing alluded to in this entry): The writing is damn curious and entertaining as well, even if it necessarily takes a backseat to the incredible archive of images. It's the most visually stimulating and exhausting website I've ever come across, and I can't recommend it highly enough. Whoever is behind Speckled Paint is building -has built- a wondrous Babel bazaar full of art, photography, advertising, medical curiosities, weird science, and all manner of splendid anomaly and exotica. As a lifetime library rat whose idea of Paradise is a place crammed to the ceiling with boxes of books and sounds and images and curiosities, there is nothing so satisfying as bumping into someone in cyberspace who is obsessively working away at a crazed and impossible blueprint for my personal Elysian Fields. Please adjust your bookmarks accordingly.Įvery once in a great while you stumble across something on the Internet that reminds you how much your world has been transformed by this medium. The advantages of this new system, as I understand it, is that it will allow us to blog from home, which essentially means that if my employers thought I was wasting a lot of their time on this enterprise, they -and you- are going to be unpleasantly surprised to discover how much of my own time I'm willing to waste. Also be sure and check out the virtuous and decidedly more lucid work of my colleagues. Be warned, however: my best work (sic) is behind me. From this point on you'll find my usual incoherent spew here. Sorry for the inconvenience, folks, but for reasons that are entirely unclear to me, City Pages is moving its weblogs to an offshore site where we can more easily protect the boatloads of cash that we're generating from this revenue-producing juggernaut.
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