My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

Celine wrote entire novels using elipses rather than periods…even after exclamations!…It was a unique style..and his thoughts!…a real master of the phrase!..

Here is another excerpt from “Castle to Castle”, not a very great book by him. Look for Journey to the End of the Night, or if not that, Death on the Installment Plan for some real disbelief in mankind’s goodness. Here is the master:

It’s hard to get animals to reproduce in a zoo, but people, even condemned to death, even hunted by Leclerc’s army, with the woods full of Fifis and the whole R.A.F. on top of them thundering day and night, don’t lose their desire to squirt!…Anywhere you go, you’ll find people who manage to enjoy themselves.. if tomorrow the earth turns into ashes and plaster…a cosmos of protons… in some hole in the mountains you’ll still find a batch of haggard lunatics buggering and sucking each other, swilling and piling it in…

Thank you Celine. I have written today’s entry in his style. Enjoy:

And these homeowners…little kings in little kingdoms…refrigerators full of pickles and milk…is that mail-order glue-and-sawdust sandwich-wood your castle?…Or have you screwed over your own mother to buy a place with gold shitters?…doesn’t matter if it’s two cardboard boxes laid open-ends together so you can crawl in and stretch your legs out…you still hate your neighbors…they make too much noise pissing and fucking…Children don’t understand wars…”Why are they fighting?” …give them a tree fort…see how long before they throw a rock down on your head…now they understand!…Property Rights!…Tresspassing!…They’ll smash you for snooping around!..

________________________________________________________________________

A friend is making a documentary film about downtown Los Angeles. “I wish I was a writer, I can’t capture these amazing moments down here, as soon as I take out the camera people change.”

I told her to just talk to me and I would write it down for her. She declined, saying it would take too long.

“Then we’ll make it a poem, they only take a minute!” I said. So here it is. A poem about a journey to the Los Angeles River.

When I was there the light was a De Chirico painting,
The freight train was stalled,
The river just a trickle.