prolly working on his zine and avoiding the seemingly inevitable online flamewars that break out anytime people engage in "discourse" (one of the failings of net communications...people say/act differently than they wld if talking to each other in a face to face environment)
it's rather late... but anyway:
STERNE, Laurence: A Sentimental Journey through France and Italy. By Mr. Yorick. London: Creswick, 1768. 2 vols. Small 8vo.
[Laurence Sterne]: A Sentimental Journey through France and Italy. By Mr. Yorick. London: Becket and De Hondt 1768. 2 vols. Small 8vo.  + 204;  + 208 pages. With inserted portrait of the Danish poet Jens Baggesen. Bound with the rare advertisement leaf promising that the work will be completed the following year and with the list of subscribers. Cont. half calf, hinges prof. restored, housed in modern slipcase. (2)
First edition of this important work with the corrected readings in both volumes: "vous" on p. 150, line 12, of vol. I, and "who have" on p. 133, last line, in vol. II. Laurence Sterne (1713-1768) is perhaps the most influential author from the 18th century relating to the modern movement. His "Sentimental Journey", Sterne's final novel, is one of the earliest examples of the "stream-of-consciousness" literary technique, which later was intellectualiced by James Joyce. Based on Sterne's two journeys abroad in 1762-64 and 1765, the work parodies the many fashionable travel accounts of the day. The narrator, "Parson Yorick", sets out on a tour of France and Italy, but at the end of the book he has travelled no further than Lyon. Provenance: The book bears the engraved amorial bookplate of Lord Gray and the bookplate of the Danish bookcollector Bent W. DahlstrÝm.
i guess his ban has expired now?
yeah come back luka...
hello again you bunch of slags
you been out walking during this time ?
sadly not. i've been cycling. i used to go walking on my own, now i go cycling with my chain gang.
oh no. not you again
Originally Posted by luka
yeah its me. i've been busy being an artist. i wrote this today, its high art, very serious and erudite. you won't understand it cos you're thick.
turkey whispers (doggerel-unfinished)
Avast! lonely Derringer
lone and last, lolling lowly last
avast! loping loving last, limping, loping past
Avast! lonely Derringer Avast!
Sherry trifle! Avast! perriwinkles! Avast! Cockatiels and spaniel pups, silk cravats and swine
brigadiers and belfry bats, buccanners and brine
earwigs and candy wax, lavender and burr, blackberry and merriment, fiddlesticks and fur.
a thousand thanks my merry men, a barrell full of tripe, a funeral for a turkey stick, tobbaco for my pipe
a dowager for christmas, a concubine for March, a saucepan full of celery, a louchely waxed moustache
Avast my hearty lovelies, time is wearing thin, march with me till Easter in armour made of tin.
we'll gather up the auttumn leaves and make a roaring fire, we'll shout and yell and dance about until the flames expire
we'll wear all types of jewellry, emerald earings and cufflinks too, we'll try on dresses made of grass with stockings from Peru
we'll burnish all the banisters and buckle every shoe, we'll bankrupt every harlequin from here to Timbucktoo
we'll tighten every torniquet and bolster every brook, we'll tickle every cockatrice and cranny every nook
we'll grow our beards till august and set them all on fire
we'll rob every single bank in town and then we'll all retire.
Avast my hearty lovelies, all lusty and full fed, we'll make a man of liquorice with a mollusc for his head
we'll raid the seas for starfish and plunder every reef, we'll fence with every swordfish and never brush our teeth
the sun is shining brightly, the sea shimmers with its light, rum for every man aboard, with stomach for a fight
we'll wrestle with the octupi and tangle with the squid
a laurel wreath for every man aboard that ever derring-did.
its mostly about israel and its full of allusions to walter benjamin.
molluscs? octupi? sherry trifles?? what's all that about?
you used to be good! what happened?
thats the best thing i've ever written what the fuck are you talking about. that there is genius.
it's phoney. you're faking it.
you don't know what you're talking aout. the first 15 lines are brilliant/ you have to hear it in your head. its very beautiful music. the kids love it. you've got no sense of fun.