Best Titles. Eden Burning. Eating People is Wrong. Then Came Brain Damage. Wodwo. This Tree Grows Out of Hell. Mad Empress of Callisto. Cat Ate My Gym Suit. The Screaming Dead Balloons. Concluding Unscientific Postscript. Always Is Not Forever. My Happy Days In Hell. Midnight Is A Place.

"When Burgess met Borges they chatted in Anglo-Saxon." --Martin Amis

"Did we fly to the moon too soon?" --Tasmin Archer

"John Tzetzes (c.1110-c.1180)... His principal works are...(3) The Historiae or Chiliads, a versified commentary on his letters in 12,674 15-syllable lines. ...He later composed a prose commentary on his commentary." --Penguin Companion to Classical & Byzantine, Oriental & African Literature

Whatever maps onto our cages is the world. --sayings of Asmodeus

Rock is the Hinduism of modern religions; with martyrs, mass rituals, & even heresiarchs. Its tentacular ubiquity seems such that, any attempt to establish an oppositional culture to it (e.g. punk), must become instantly incorporated into its structure; only the secret or amateur musicologist remains outside. It's no coincidence that the PoMo era coincides with the Reign of Rock...

Words for kinds of traffic, as the Eskimo (supposedly) have for kinds of snow...

"In a blank ghostly glare shone the bleak ghostly camp" --Owen Meredith

Rationalism might be called the fallacy of believing language to be a category of description, rather than that description is a special use of language.

Above all, anger is a safe response. It preserves a frozen snapshot of the victim-victimizer relationship, out of time; whereas real change can only happen in time, & through other aspects that this snapshot left out.

The terrain changes; so does the dance. What doesn't is the need to keep balance.

"And it seemed to be, while I sat there so musing, that there is a double strength in tradition. First, the strength which we all know, the strength of continued names and forms which, though they become archaic and grotesque, bind the sons to the fathers and are, therefore, most religiously to be preserved. But the second, stranger and more powerful, more full of body, is that strength in tradition which has a resurrection about it that assures a continuance of life. There is a sort of tradition which is not a form, nor a ritual, nor a name, but a surviving influence... So I mused in the cathedral of Saragossa the last time I was there." --Belloc, Towns of Destiny (1931)

the Pumpkinification - the Nineteen Eighties as a styleperiod

Deep turquoise butterfly struggling at my feet; looking closer, i discover one of its wings is half missing.

My inner necessity is not for Art per se but for Alchemy. Art is my preferred channel for this process. And some of it can never be assimilated into existing artforms...

Slang is a place for those who have no place.

Passive-Aggression is the Hero with a Thousand Faces. --sayings of Asmodeus

Beyond the things i make, either as part of my daily practice--usually in forms i already use (often my constant poem-making resembles a hen laying unfertilized eggs...)--or as milestones representative of cusps in my life--these are usually more elaborate & self-sufficient ("cairns")--there is the form evolved out of my notebooks, that i call braidtext: recurrent topics, that i add to as they occur to me; & which i think of as different colored strands of discourse. This would make a good hypertext but, not having the programming skills, i have to make do with the "unfolded" version: call it a Tesseract. --And only there does my work faithfully reflect the complexity of my experience.

The ideal writer is also a reader, but the ideal reader has no time for anything else. Change in Genre tends to be driven by the boredom of its producers.

Nobody wanted to be PostModern. --sayings of Asmodeus

Poverty, like ageing, a necessary indignity. Squalor, like anger, not.

Turbulent Sixties, Mellow Seventies, Emetic Eighties, Wacky Nineties...Nacreous Oughts.

"I am very fond of poems of one line--some Roman poets wrote them--but it is difficult to understand these poems without knowing the men who wrote them." --The Strange Life of Ivan Osokin