>Suffice to say David (B) goes great guns and should be smiling all the
> way to the catacomb, he flies over my wreckage
I'm using this as a pick up point as I've just come in after some hours and
find myself confronted with a virtual mayhem on Poetry Etc. I'm sad to say
it looks like there's an intent to 'rubbish' the list nascent. But, using
the above quote from the (Non-Selfhooding-Kent??) as a starting point, apart
from the query about why he should feel so concerned about his own
'wreckage' if non-identity is his aim, I have to ask too, in a very
'personal' way, where he gets the notion of my smiling over (presumably)
victims?
I'm a nobody, Kent, I have no power of much account in this world, why do
you make such an antagonistic fuss over me.
Kent, if you really do believe in the unreality of the self so much, why so
much of an ego-storm matey? There are many areas on which I agree with you,
I forget most of whoever I am every time I wake up, and I'm sure at the
moment of death my subjectivity will be abolished quite, but in the
meantime, my personhood, half-wit tho' it might be, may seriously object to
threats against its existence.
T-chew!! And equally this barrage is an attack on other selves. We all have
them, even if temporarily.
David B
----- Original Message -----
From: "Kent Johnson" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Sunday, June 10, 2001 4:40 PM
Subject: reduction of nearal fissures
> Kent,
>
> I'm not sure I agree with you on this valedictory note of compliance in
> LangPo sinecures or the extermination of bleating fictions resented in
that
> seizure of lust, or present in the ludic ideogram of atom-selves, nor am I
> happy to find a further biifurcation of me even more prone to mewling than
> the original. Amid humid ruins and piss-pots of self and me slowly
> dissolving. Bothered or not. Fickle in the bid of selves wasting for need
of
> some semblance calm for my immoderate gum wresting. Just so, a wrested
> erstwhile thing and David (H) can choose the lube and check the notes of
my
> whistling arse, once again I am pursued. I might opine a different gull on
> the nib of this, but safe to say the pragmatism of my guff is cruising to
> ruin. Suffice to say David (B) goes great guns and should be smiling all
the
> way to the catacomb, he flies over my wreckage. I'm off to bend double to
> check on my colon. The facts can speak for themselves. Adieu mon ver de
> terre. I is KJ. Sad and dirty. Blessed in bliss. I am my own list.
>
> best
> Kent
>
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