Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.


Saturday, April 9, 2016

Happy Second Day of the Writing, 2016


Ah, but she was the queer old skeowsha anyhow, Anna Livia,
trinkettoes! And sure he was the quare old buntz too, Dear Dirty
Dumpling, foostherfather of fingalls and dotthergills. Gammer
and gaffer we're all their gangsters. Hadn't he seven dams to wive
him? And every dam had her seven crutches. And every crutch
had its seven hues. And each hue had a differing cry. Sudds for
me and supper for you and the doctor's bill for Joe John. Befor!
Bifur! He married his markets, cheap by foul, I know, like any
Etrurian Catholic Heathen, in their pinky limony creamy birnies
and their turkiss indienne mauves. But at milkidmass who was
the spouse? Then all that was was fair. Tys Elvenland ! Teems of
times and happy returns. The seim anew. Ordovico or viricordo.
Anna was, Livia is, Plurabelle's to be. Northmen's thing made
southfolk's place but howmulty plurators made eachone in per-
son? Latin me that, my trinity scholard, out of eure sanscreed into
oure eryan! Hircus Civis Eblanensis! He had buckgoat paps on
him, soft ones for orphans. Ho, Lord ! Twins of his bosom. Lord
save us! And ho! Hey? What all men. Hot? His tittering daugh-
ters of. Whawk?
-- Finnegans Wake

Friday, April 8, 2016

Happy First Day of the Writing, 2016



O  
tell me all about  
Anna Livia! I want to hear all


about Anna Livia. Well, you know Anna Livia? Yes, of course, 
we all know Anna Livia. Tell me all. Tell me now. You'll die 
when you hear. Well, you know, when the old cheb went futt 
and did what you know. Yes, I know, go on. Wash quit and 
don't be dabbling. Tuck up your sleeves and loosen your talk- 
tapes. And don't butt me       hike!       when you bend. Or what- 
ever it was they threed to make out he thried to two in the
Fiendish park. He's an awful old reppe. Look at the shirt of him !
Look at the dirt of it! He has all my water black on me. And it
steeping and stuping since this time last wik. How many goes
is it I wonder I washed it? I know by heart the places he likes to
saale, duddurty devil! Scorching my hand and starving my fa-
mine to make his private linen public. Wallop it well with your
battle and clean it. My wrists are wrusty rubbing the mouldaw
stains. And the dneepers of wet and the gangres of sin in it! What
was it he did a tail at all on Animal Sendai? And how long was
he under loch and neagh? It was put in the newses what he did,
nicies and priers, the King fierceas Humphrey, with illysus dis-
tilling, exploits and all. But toms will till. I know he well. Temp
untamed will hist for no man. As you spring so shall you neap.
O, the roughty old rappe! Minxing marrage and making loof.

[...]



                                                                                     Was her

banns never loosened in Adam and Eve's or were him and her
but captain spliced? For mine ether duck I thee drake. And by
my wildgaze I thee gander. Flowey and Mount on the brink of
time makes wishes and fears for a happy isthmass. She can show
all her lines, with love, license to play. And if they don't remarry
that hook and eye may ! O, passmore that and oxus another!

--Finnegans Wake