Poppet reads |
Poppet reads a bunch of stuff |
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Brassai: images of culture and the surrealist observer - Marja Warehime
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kaedinger asked: You gone? Suddenly no bunnylike infopoppet on twitter anymore?
Yes, I have gone :( But I am on Flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/infobunny/
Come friend me! :D -
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Labyrinths - Jorge Luis Borges
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“Then I took a deep breath, hesitated, let my mind go blank and finally said: These are my prophecies.
Vladimir Mayakovsky shall come back into fashion around the year 2150. James Joyce shall be reincarnated as a Chinese boy in the year 2124. Thomas Mann shall become a Ecuadorian pharmacist in the year 2101.
For Marcel Proust, a desperate and prolonged period of oblivion shall begin in the year 2033. Ezra Pound shall disappear from certain libraries in the year 2089. Vachel Lindsay shall appeal to the masses in the year 2101.
Cesar Vallejo shall be read underground in the year 2045. Jorge Louis Borges shall be read underground in the year 2045. Vincente Huidobro shall appeal to the masses in the year 2101.
Virginia Woolf shall be reincarnated as an Argentinian fiction writer in the year 2076. Louis Ferdinand Celine shall enter Purgatory in the year 2094. Paul Eluard shall appeal to the masses in the year 2101.
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Amulet - Roberto Bolano
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"Guerrero, at that time of night, is more like a cemetery than an avenue, not a cemetery in 1974 or in 1968, or 1975, but a cemetery in the year 2666, a forgotten cemetery under the eyelid of a corpse or an unborn child, bathed in the dispassionate fluids of an eye that tried so hard to forget on particular thing that it ended up forgetting everything else."
Amulet - Roberto Bolano
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Amulet - Roberto Bolano
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Notes"Well, the secret story is the one we’ll never know, although we’re living it from day to day, thinking we’re alive, thinking we’ve got it all under control and the stuff we overlook doesn’t matter. But every damn thing matters! It’s just that we don’t realise. We tell ourselves that art runs on one track and life, our lives, on another, we don’t even realise it’s a lie."Last evenings on Earth - Roberto Bolano
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Last evenings on Earth - Roberto Bolano
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"Hardly a minute and a half in your time, in her time,” Johnny said nastily. “And also the metro’s time and my watch’s, damn them both. Then how could I have been thinking a quarter of an hour, huh, Bruno? How can you think a quarter of an hour in a minute and a half? That day I swear I hadn’t smoked even a roach, not a crumb,” he finished like a boy excusing himself. “And then it happened to me again, now it’s beginning to happen to me everyplace. But,” he added astutely, “I can only notice in the metro, because to ride the metro is like being put in a clock. The stations are minutes, dig, it’s that time of yours, now’s times; but I know there’s another, and I’ve been thinking, thinking …"
The Pursuer
Blow-up and other stories - Julio Cortazar
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"When I feel that I’m going to bring up a rabbit, I put my two fingers in my mouth like an open pincer, and I wait to feel the lukewarm fluff rise in my throat like the effervescence in a sal hepatica. It’s all swift and clean, passes in the briefest instant. I remove the fingers from my mouth and in them, held fast by the ears, a small white rabbit. The bunny appears to be content, a perfectly normal bunny only very tiny, small as a chocolate rabbit, only it’s white and very thoroughly a rabbit. I set it in the palm of my hand, I smooth the fluff, caressing it with two fingers; the bunny seems satisfied with having been born and waggles and pushes its muzzle against my skin, moving it with that quiet and tickling nibble of a rabbit’s mouth against the skin of the hand. He’s looking for something to eat and then (I’m talking about when this happened at my house on the outskirts) I take him with me out to the balcony and set him down in the big flowerpot among the clover that I’ve grown there with this in mind. The bunny raises his ears as high as they can go, surrounds a tender clover leaf with a quick little wheeling motion of his snout, and I know that I can leave him there now and go on my way for a time, lead a life not very different from people who buy their rabbits at farmhouses."
Blow up and other stories - Julio Cortázar
