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December 02, 2006


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It's all miraculously begun to make sense--but didn't (at least to me) until the two of you met and the reports of it started coming in on both blogs.

There are aspects the two of you share that are obviously foreign to me, but it seems as if something like a cross-pollination took place.

I can accept 'the damp' because Lars was seen slipping into his door and shutting it quickly--this was a very strong image, very cinematic.

He discussed 'his damp' at the conference and it was not just ruminating about the damp inside the immediate environs consituting this damp. He wrote a post on this and it wasn't about how he couldn't write about the damp. He seemed to have forgotten that he writes but isn't supposed to be able to write. I always found that the most unnerving thing in the world.

There was a period over a year ago when I read his entries quite regularly, and never could once imagine him ever smiling. Since this cross-pollination between Jodi and Lars makes a number of the reported events seem to bear images in which he smiles.

Fortunately or unfortunately, I still don't have that much trouble with keeping 'the good life' within what I call friendship: I don't find that capitalism calls forth only a friendliness of something somehow enforced by a business transaction somehow having gone down without incident. I still have personally very little conscious attraction to 'bare life' as such.

But I also think that with this 'cross-pollination' that 'the damp', while it can still exist, cannot exist quite as all-pervasively as it once did, because there were other elements that came into play--and I don't think those elements are without rights themselves.

But the orientations for these perceptions are different for all parties concerned and some of what I said is not going to make sense.


..."wherein the friends drag each other down, as low as they can go, and stay around to laugh at the other as he hits bottom."

Yes, the real of friendship.


There's a possibly pertinent passage toward the end of Robert Stone's novel 'Children of Light', in which 2 movie stars get into pigshit, playing with it, throwing it at each other, thinking they've reached something or other.

I would imagine there are many such novelties at the bottom--and quite accessible as well. It could be a natural reaction to not getting to live at Buckingham Palace, this 'race to the bottom', because if you can't, then anything between the Palace and the bottom seems mediocre and characterless. I used to toy with these things, but they always seem to coexist with financial insolvency, which makes the pigshit less a matter of the childlike than of the explosive and bellicose. Loan debt, for example, is not as good for Maypole celebrations as is pigshit.

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