Sunday, March 11, 2007


I clarify 'topple.'

I mean topple artistically in the political sense, especially as an example of the practice of communalism in the arts, as a corrupting influence on culture, and as being anti-discourse and market.

And a bunch of other antis. He is clearly a damaging terroristic sort of guy.

And an impediment to the free market.

Also not seeking the marvellous in the real and seeing a thing in its own sake.

I do not mean topple in the mental sense. I know Mr. X has always been missing a piece of gnos.

That meant he saw life, being of private income, as a kind of troublesome circle of support and praise. Later, after failures, this became a sort of auto erotomania in a playpen pretending with friends to be winning a horse race.

Because he has invested so much in building his place in a circle of similar gnos, including an anti-art, anti-activism gnos, his unsettling attraction to the poem, to me as a nineteen year old 'barging into intimacies', and his attraction to your reckless out of the box commitment, and to the rest of my my life, and yours, created the completely unbalanced response. It is a sign of a damaged person and declining mind. He particularly sees the artist as a betrayal, someone getting outside of the punishment/reward circles he should be in.

X by the way can never have a friend. The guys in the play pen aren't there for that.

His problem is that the book is attractive. Its ideas are beyond him.

This cannot be if he is X. He is attracted. This cannot be. He loves it. This cannot be. It doesn't love him. So he must fly at it. Negation of the negation. Spending a life demeaning what he desires, he has toppled himself.

He will be a figure of fun and he is beginning to know it.

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