the Old Oaken Slop-pot

"When I reached the Delta gate in Marquette—having stabilized to a fugue state of grief mixed with low-grade aspiration regarding timely questions relevant to what now for me, or what ever—the waiting area was a-thrive with activity. The Northern Michigan University Fighting Bull-Bats were a day away from playing the archrival, Wisconsin-Eau Claire Anvil Heads in a pigskin contest to decide the Peckerwood League Championship and who would bring home the Old Oaken Slop-pot and go on to the Clinker Bowl in Duluth on New Year's day, when the fate of the world would be decided."

~~ from Be Mine: A Frank Bascombe Novel by Richard Ford

Christmas Day

Merry Christmas!

to become a human being

"A human being's most pressing need was to become a human being."

~~ from An Apprenticeship or The Book of Pleasures by Clarice Lispector 

Self Portrait at Twenty Years by Roberto Bolano

I set off, I took up the march and never knew
where it might take me. I went full of fear,
my stomach dropped, my head was buzzing:
I think it was the icy wind of the dead.
I don’t know. I set off, I thought it was a shame
to leave so soon, but at the same time
I heard that mysterious and convincing call.
You either listen or you don’t, and I listened
and almost burst out crying: a terrible sound,
born on the air and in the sea.
A sword and shield. And then,
despite the fear, I set off, I put my cheek
against death’s cheek.
And it was impossible to close my eyes and miss seeing
that strange spectacle, slow and strange,
though fixed in such a swift reality:
thousands of guys like me, baby-faced
or bearded, but Latin American, all of us,
brushing cheeks with death.

—Roberto Bolaño
(translated from the Spanish by Laura Healy)

the sweet gentleness of Europe

"I was a little shaken . . . in fact, I'd had rotten shock! . . . that's right, a shock . . . the whole of Europe on my ass . . . yes, the whole of Europe . . . plus my friends . . . my family . . . all competing to see who could grab more away from me . . . not leaving me time to say boo . . . my eyes! . . . my nose! . . . my fountain pen . . . the ferocity of Europe! . . . the Nazis were no lovebirds, but don't tell me about the sweet gentleness of Europe . . . I'm not exaggerating . . . that little warrant . . . and all those public prosecutors . . ."

~~ from Castle to Castle by Louis-Ferdinand Celine