Monday, July 02, 2007

What a Mess

Just seems to be the appropriate sentiment/critique/statement of the moment.

The quote: "When the thistle blooms and the chirping cicada sits on trees and pours down shrill song from frenziedly quivering wings in the trilsome summer, then goats are fatter than ever and wine is at its best; women's lust know no bounds and men are all dried up, because the dog star parches their heads and knees and the heat sears their skin. Then, ah then, I wish you a shady ledge and your choice wine, bread baked in the dusk and mid-August's goat milk and meat from a free-roving heifer that has never calved—and from firstling kids. Drink sparkling wine, sitting in the shade with your appetite sated, and face Zephyr's breeze as it blows from mountain peaks. Pur three measures of water fetched from a clear spring, one that flows unchecked, and a fourth one of wine." —Hesiod (~7th Century)

This spread is a complete mess. I found the quote a long time ago, and wrote it into the book before I'd even decided what I was going to do. Creates quite a satisfying mess.

The quote: "Man is the only animal that laughs and weeps, for he is the only animal that is struck with the difference between what things are and what they should be." —William Hazlitt (1778-1830)

For the past week or so, The Onion has had troops in the street handing out the paper. The little onion is not their onion, but my onion—the onion in my head. Nice to know it's in there in case things get too bland.

It's been a very long day. Thanks for stopping by.

1 comment:

dcpeg said...

Aaaah -- Zephyr's breeze. . . . Couldn't quite wrap my mind around the rest of it, but I'm cool with the breeeeeeeeeeeze. . . .