Infinite jest – a tennis-allegory, where the sum of passing lines of words between footnotes and in the footnotes as well, serve as images of the type of serve or response correlating to the sum; the higher the sum the higher (probably) or at least slower the arch the ball describes. This is made real with the reader’s actions of bouncing between the text or narrative itself and the appendix (these constituting the whole – the game and set – while being a part of the narrative, contributing with fact and depth, much like the way(s) a ball is returned over the net). Lets say twelve lines pass between two footnotes, that’s maybe a slow ball and that the footnote consists of two lines – that’s a fast return ball. The dance of the text and the notes form the complexity of the game being played. Does this make any sense at all? I’m obviously not Harold Bloom but all men have the right to reflect over their reading.
I love typewriters and I love to type, but I would NOT want to be the one punching these keys… This movie is just bad news from frame one. Pure art.
He seems to be interested… I bought a blue Facit for Ingrid. Which machine should I get for Ivar?
I won an auction last weekend and here it is: my 1938 Champion. It seems to be in great shape (the case is in mint condition) but a few drops of oil and some gentle polishing lies ahead. Oh, I just have to share a typewriter moment: I recently started working with 7-9th-graders and one of my students doesn’t really like writing. While talking with him I realized it was apparent that he enjoyed vintage cars and that he wasn’t unfamiliar with working in the garage, so I asked him if he would like to try out a typewriter… Since that day he has been working the keys almost every day. Now… the only problem is that he wants to buy my orange Silver Reed…