linkboy (lingk’boi) n. A boy formerly hired to carry a torch to guide persons along dark streets.
(found in: The American Heritage Dictionary, 2nd College Ed.)
linkboy (lingk’boi) n. A boy formerly hired to carry a torch to guide persons along dark streets.
(found in: The American Heritage Dictionary, 2nd College Ed.)
Posted by sean on October 24, 2022
https://sd-stewart.com/2022/10/24/linkboy/
The other day I heard three birds discussing the state of the world.
‘It will get worse before it gets better,’ said the first bird.
The second bird harumphed. ‘Actually, it will appear better for a time but then continue to get much worse.’
Pausing to look up from scratching around in the dirt, the third bird asked: ‘Do either of you know when the tall man will start putting out sunflower seeds for us again?’
Posted by sean on August 10, 2020
https://sd-stewart.com/2020/08/10/overheard-avian-conversation/
Posted by sean on July 16, 2018
https://sd-stewart.com/2018/07/16/oxbow-letter-of-note/
Posted by sean on February 26, 2018
https://sd-stewart.com/2018/02/26/avoid-the-helvetica-scenario/
Posted by sean on August 14, 2017
https://sd-stewart.com/2017/08/14/10-point-plan-to-make-america-great-again/
What is this dialect—tearing the oilskin remnants of time—the sun a hot dripping ball of wax sealing shut another sudden day—a new place a new suit a new matchbox—walk this gauntlet overshadowed by a pair of rotors and a smile—another scene stuck in a feedback loop—(hey who let all these gnomes out in the desert)—welcome to distortion a normality found in the far reaches of a certain type of mind—if it makes sense do not r e p e a t do not report it—a pattern of melancholy strung up like twinkling lights throughout the ages—now we enter the cloud chamber now we genuflect to the amplifier—to celebrate a sudden soaring up of souls on waxen wings of failed entrepreneurs—now there is this feeling this feeling of looking up at lights in windows from sidewalks sewn lifetimes away—a hurt that feels too good not to press on a little—our survival depends on this twisted nest feathered with compulsions—and we pass through the gates—(having entered as sound, blind)—we board the vessel and wait—what ho, off the starboard bow is it Scylla is it Charybdis or is it nothing at all nothing at all—(we exit as light, deaf)—next time take the train it’s said to be more scenic—wait everything changed again—wait wait there is no next time.
Posted by sean on December 9, 2013
https://sd-stewart.com/2013/12/09/monday-fuzz/
i.
the sky in the glodes between masses of cloud was irenic blue—j. gardner, ‘the warden’
ii.
in the dream, people called it a giraffe but it wasn’t a giraffe—it was orange, maybe shaped more like a zebra—someone was leading it for a time, and then it was running along the river with the migrating birds. we all saw it.
iii.
when i ceased to be alone, solitude became intense, infinite—m. blanchot, the one who was standing apart from me
iv.
to be alone in public is true freedom. to be alone in a private residence holds a spell of constriction, resulting from the receding of the outward-facing gaze into an inward-facing position. as self-consciousness fades so too does presence of mind, of the rooting of the self in its role, be it outsider or not, within society.
[post-transcriptional annotation]
1. outward-facing: infinite possibilities; heightened awareness from surging external energies
2. inward-facing: finite possibilities; shrinking awareness from negative self-generated energies
(my talk show starts tomorrow. during a series of six silent sessions, i will expound upon the nonsense listed in part iv. tune your magic dial to eleventy-six-oh at quarter past the slowest hour of the day or if you don’t have a cardboard box with day-glo dials painted on it, tune your peepers to the suspicious-looking cloud formations in the western sky, which i have arranged in advance to spell out the answers to all of your questions. that’s all.)
Posted by sean on July 8, 2013
https://sd-stewart.com/2013/07/08/moleskine-miscellany-annotated/