Tired of contextualizations,, phatic decided to take up an old habit. No, not smoking, drinking or inhaling glue. It was translating phatic got his arousal from. Yes, it turned him on to regurgitate /other people's/ words. - I don't believe in no translation of effect, he said. - Or even meaning, beanieman added. - Yes, uh, yes, phatic translocuted. They had a sip of tea. - Pure, hard core transliteration for you. - Yes, phatic answered meekly. - You ever get the feeling that you've been /too creative/? - No, I don't, phatic said coldly. They had another sip of tea. - This manuscript is getting a bit on the analytic side, beanieman ventured. - You mean British? - No, I mean boring, tedious and dry as a South American desert. phatic broke off into inspired resitation of new poems by Terje Dragseth, from the latter's collection Bella Blu, a cycle chronicling a space ship's journey among planets, meteors, comets, etc., 17.5 billion kilometers away from Tellus and our solar system. Dag 157 This language ushers forth like bow and waterfall There are keys to the clouds that we shall soon receive. The night messenger responds not from darkness. The night messenger is asleep. Listening to the world of sounds whispering the geometric girl with sharpened ears. Torgeir Fjeld Oslo, Norway http://independent.academia.edu/TorgeirFjeld // http://facebook.com/phatic ------------------------------------------------------------------ To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off, digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html