tonight at the Byrd Theatre, home of the Mighty Wurlitzer
(now playing Strauss'
Zarathustra! on request—incidentally:
Dick Strauss Ford-Isuzu-Suzuki, Midlothian Turnpike, fall sale ends Sat Dec 21st):

The Teutonic Crush of 4 Dimensional Stars!
Modalities of Mid-Century "New-South" Politics!
followed by:
Watermelon-night in Shockoe Bottom!
and, via the moderate, non-ideological uprisings of Thomas Stearns Eliot:
Tradition and the Individual Talent!
"...a judgment, a comparison, in which two things are measured by each other."
"...the present moment of the past..."
A past just as faithful to the present as the vice to the versa!
Fecal transplants to fine tune the microbiome!
Life as a spectrum disorder!
To the Egress!
tonight at the Byrd Theatre, home of the Mighty Wurlitzer
(now offering The Arcade Fire's
Joan of Arc! on demand)!!!!

"cries Organ Morgan, the organist, in his dream..."
"O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag—"

"Strolling one hot summer afternoon through the empty and to me unfamiliar streets of a small Italian town, I found myself in a district about whose character I could not long remain in doubt. Only heavily made-up women were to be seen at the windows of the little houses, and I hastily left the narrow street at the next turning." —Sigmund Freud, trans. David McClintock,
Das Unheimliche [The Uncanny], 1919

"They called me the hyacinth girl."
"I lost my step in Nantucket."
We moved to Vinegar Hill.
You spent the nights, spring into summer,
counting word-usage in the six issues
of the New Left Review for the year twenty-eleven,
making tables and charts of language.
I called you Diction Douglas, and those were the best years of my life;
we drank very poorly then, bad beer and worse wine,
but we drank much more then,
and somehow the quantity made up for the quality.