Anakana Schofield

October 3, 2010

As of 2pm I have finished reading Eileen Myles novel Inferno and can no longer request it solve every minor and major dilemma that presents. I accept it will not build a greenhouse. It does cure earache. And generally possesses the indestructible sway and lumber of a giraffe. (novel? memoir really? who cares.). V fine, v funny and an hommage to a certain part of the female anatomy that deserves elevation. She yanks it up there like that statue overhead in the holy shrine of Lourdes.

Now I return to Betty Lambert’s Crossings for the revisiting of the revisit.

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October 3, 2010

The good thing about having an eccentric greenhouse operation is available plastic for absent car window!

I am weighing up whether a hood on a rainjacket and a set of googles could suffice instead of repairing it.

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October 3, 2010

Can Eileen Myles novel Inferno repair a vandalized car window?

Can Eileen Myles novel Inferno offer a bit of peace while I contemplate a long windowless winter or a hole in my holey-holed pocket?

My expectations of this novel are veering up there towards the biblical.

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October 3, 2010

Literally a windowless start to the day. Gah. What a mess. Some gobshite put my car window in, in a most unartistic arrangement, and failed to steal me car.

The gauling thing is I sleep poorly, I hear every sound on the street, I was up and down all night — how’d I not hear the elbow action under me window?

As my mother would say, “The divil roast them.”

***

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October 3, 2010

Whoever is Norman Bateson? Where did I make him up? Gregory even.

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October 3, 2010

Film fest time means curling queues on grid like streets.  I was thinking of going to see a doc on Norman Bateson — hence the essay link. Then I switched thought to heading out to Alan Gilsenan’s Liamy Clancy doc, but a walk in our lucky to be dry evening sent me home back to Eileen Myles novel Inferno instead. If I want New York, I got New York right here in this here bewk.

Co incidentally I appear to have painted my nails the same colour as the cover.

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October 2, 2010

Winter gardening is akin to wrestling match. I have removed the decaying tomato plants — quelle roots!

I also picked a cucumber — not bad given it is Oct. 2, 2010.

There are bound to be more gratifying moments than getting your arms ripped up by the departing scratchers.

And the slugs are back in session with avengence.

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October 2, 2010

Paternal honesty

On the morning of July 2, Gregory asked his son to kill him. The asking was not a fully conscious request for practical steps – he suggested getting a stick and hitting him over the head with it, as if by brutal overstatement to achieve the opposite of euphemism – but it was a demanding paternal honesty.

(From Six Days of Dying. Mary Catherine Bateson. essay describing Gregory Bateson’s death) read entire essay here

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October 2, 2010

One of the ups of the downs of this week. Satire! The Nobs are on it.

Here’s an old Apres Match. (1.59 almost burst an organ here laughing)

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F_vs5gYURZA&fs=1&hl=en_GB]

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October 2, 2010

I have been too generous.

The world is too loud inside a silent apartment.

Can Eileen Myles novel numb an earache?

On va voir.

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