03-31-2019, 03:23 PM
(03-31-2019, 02:58 PM)rowens Wrote: I'm drunk. And so shouldn't say anything. When I wake up tomorrow, after hours obsessing about the woman I'm in love with, I'm going to be suicidally embarrassed about this.
And I had to start a new paragraph.
Absorb. Secrete. Digest. Circulate. Excrete. Create.
And Ignorance with a capital I. That's all I know.
I enjoy discussing Harold Bloom's views on Celine, Carl Jung and Strindberg. Because Bloom is such a force. But when it comes to these figures, he admits, as we all do, his bias.
Bloom is a shamelessly effervescent Shakespeare fan-boy, no doubt. It seems that in his old age all he reads is Shakespeare and Whitman. LOL Having said that, his Shakespeare: The Invention of the Human was a tour-de-force in the realm of literary criticism. It made me re-read about 15 Shakespeare plays as I read it.
That Shakespeare "over-wrote" at times can hardly be denied. Sometimes I think he had so much vibrant creative energy that he was never one to deny his audience the tangentially aimed "asides" he aimed at them for their enjoyment. I don't know...sometimes you just guess about such things...
I remember once reading that Macbeth was his most sparse and brutally economic of tragedies.
You write some damn good shyt, by the way...
You can't hate me more than I hate myself. I win.
"When the spirit of justice eloped on the wings
Of a quivering vibrato's bittersweet sting."
"When the spirit of justice eloped on the wings
Of a quivering vibrato's bittersweet sting."
