stagnanTVowels

fig.02.210) harmless baffle There have always been things in front of that window; once Milton cut out paper leaves and he hung them there with fat pink string. The high sun cascades in and there's shadows playing across the floor like a brittle plastic film. Her nose is just visible. The mask she's wearing seems to be well gnawed, some purpose having interrupted the hungry vole of reason responsible, the barn now forgets it's stopping. Why is she wearing this at all. Maybe she's disappointed in the choices she's made? Brushing the hair away from her eye's hotly. She exhales meanly and stands up quickly. Emke turns to leave the kitchen. This is how the world ends. The End. Chapter: The Next, To Begin! I adore the smell of quick perfume and whatever you have in your pockets. Back when kids roamed Paris and their pistols were loaded up and as bright as new teeth, this one had just invented rope and it was holding their pants like magic. A taut length of hemp that...

Fig.01.213) Me, the Apple with J Mascis During this time... The voices of many telephones murmur as proles manage what business is appointed to them by distant masters. There are never short answers in the stacks. History is a tightly wound coil around a small golden chair sitting beneath an even smaller umbrella but short answers require clownishly large shoes. Not springing from the loam of a hallowed vale, the narratives within these aisles are constructed from the straw and twine of whatever is easiest, most expedient or convenient to lay hands on. All of it is being piled higher and higher at the urging of untidy fools, until it finally falls down. Now, here we are. As in the United States, most clandestine, independent or alternative publication actions in Montreal and Toronto ceased by 1973. So the short answer could be, we aren't Canadian... The Canadian social and political realities of the 60's and 70's were particularly contentious. The country was sorting thr...