Try Aeon – “Aeon is a digital Magazine. It is better than the London Review of Books.. and it is FREE”. I was talking over breakfast on Sunday with a woman called Penny. She is a literary agent living in upstate New York, working mostly with non-fiction writing. Aeon is the closest publishing thing I’ve [...]
‘entitlement’ was the word I was remembering. I added it between these other two, “death … hospitals”, when we were meeting yesterday in the city-centre Cafe. We were in the spirit of walkingtalkingwriting, and one aspect of the entitlement word we were on about was (entitlement/un-entitlment) the dialectic, in which both of us were entitled [...]
I happened to pick up my copy of Death at Intervals by José Saramago this morning (opening words: ‘The following day, no one died, this fact, being absolutely contrary to life’s rules… (etc)’). I was also reminded that the front-piece of the book quotes Ludwig Wittgenstein; If, for example, you were to think more deeply about death, [...]
Liberties After Being Robbed of Our Own
Outlaws crop up when you least expect them to. Here are positive signs for continuing with this ficto-documentary writing, and the reader can choose for themselves what to believe or disbelieve. Over this last weekend I keep missing a series of phone calls, probably about seven in all, from a man who I have never [...]
Love: Mine – long as Agnes steal!
‘Writing I believe is a sort of co-production’. In the continuing ficto-documentary spirit of this dialogic project of ours, I now also read and repeat : ‘If it is not fair, it is not Christian either’ (Alan Bennet LRB Vol 36 No 12 19th June 2014). To begin with: we are all are equal in [...]
Parmenides of Elea (Παρμενίδης ὁ Ἐλεάτης; fl. 5th century BCE )- single known work is a poem: On Nature, which has survived only in fragmentary form. In this poem, Parmenides describes two views: In “the way of truth” part of the poem he explains how reality (coined as “what-is”) is. In “the way of opinion,” [...]
Lunch Goes on for a Long Time (“Iatromantics”)
Lunch with this dreadful woman Agnes at the Made In Brazil. I had eaten so much pork, I had begun to feel like a pig. And my head was throbbing from the beer. That, and her incessant repetitive voice. “Neck ya” she says. “Neck ya.” It sounded like that anyway . Greek, I thought, as [...]
A Holiday Visit to ‘Erebus’ (the Underworld)
Afterwards I spoke with Agnes who served us coffee . She owned the bar called the Taverna Necromanteion (‘Taverna Death Oracle’) which we had found at the corner of the cross-roads of the village at the bottom of the hill. Or rather was spoken to, as Agnes mostly talked rather than listened. “I’ve lived here [...]