Tagged: writers.
January 13th, 2011

This one’s for you, Cloggo


Dear Cloggo, could you please customise a time machine for me and program it for 1870.

I should like to begin in London, visiting Dickens before he dies in June, then travel by train across northern Europe in the summer and arrive in Germany in time for Wagner’s wedding to Cosima in August. Of course I will attend performances of Das Rheingold and Die Walkure (newly completed) in Munich as well. I may also get a handle on his (and Germany’s) anti-Semitism during a few months’ there, and meet Nietzsche.

From there I would like to fly - oops, sail from Hamburg, I guess - to New York and visit Mark Twain while he’s still editing the Buffalo Express and staying in one place.

Then I plan to sail to Dublin, and see if I can spot the young Oscar Wilde at Trinity College (he’s bound to stand out).

Just need to be back in England by late 1871 for the launch of Through the Looking Glass and a meeting with Charles Dodgson, where he can sign a first edition of the book.

After that it will be home to the antipodes for about 50 80 years’ rest so I can be born into challenging circumstances in suburbia, New Zealand. (Different time machine for the return home?)

Thanks, Cloggo. I know you will deliver on this.


∞05:55 am, by kg13 ∩10  |  Comments
[Cloggo] [1870] [writers] [time-travel] [19th century]
April 5th, 2010
Drink was his muse, and he surrendered totally! I was drawn to all the wrong things: I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn’t have a god, politics, ideas, ideals. I was settled into nothingness; a kind of non-being, and I accepted it. I didn’t make for an interesting person. I didn’t want to be interesting, it was too hard. What I really wanted was only a soft, hazy space to live in, and to be left alone. A writer has no responsibility, except to jack off in bed alone and type a good page. Charles Bukowski Via charlesbukowski and sprbd



Drink was his muse, and he surrendered totally!

I was drawn to all the wrong things: I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn’t have a god, politics, ideas, ideals. I was settled into nothingness; a kind of non-being, and I accepted it. I didn’t make for an interesting person. I didn’t want to be interesting, it was too hard. What I really wanted was only a soft, hazy space to live in, and to be left alone.

A writer has no responsibility, except to jack off in bed alone and type a good page.

Charles Bukowski


Via charlesbukowski and sprbd


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  ∞03:43 am, reblogged  by kg13 ∩31  |
 Comments
[bukowski] [writers]
February 2nd, 2010
Well Ginsberg must have had a great sense of humour, is all I can say. The photographer writes about him earnestly after the shoot, but the pix to me say let’s have a bit of fun. I am sure he was laughing. You’d have to, wouldn’t you?



Well Ginsberg must have had a great sense of humour, is all I can say.

The photographer writes about him earnestly after the shoot, but the pix to me say let’s have a bit of fun.




I am sure he was laughing.
You’d have to, wouldn’t you?

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  ∞08:05 am, by kg13 ∩2  |  Comments
[allen ginsberg] [writers] [photography]
December 20th, 2009
printedandbound: Catch-22 Manuscript [via] Further evidence that genius is indeed 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration (click to enlarge to readable size)

printedandbound:

Catch-22 Manuscript

[via]

Further evidence that genius is indeed 10% inspiration and 90% perspiration (click to enlarge to readable size)

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  ∞12:54 am, reblogged  by kg13
 Comments
[writing] [writers] [joseph heller] [catch-22]
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