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I went to the plain girl fair out Route 22 figuring I could get one if I just put on a kind face. This newspaper here had advertising the aspidistra store not far away by car where I went then and bought one to carry along. At the plain girl fair they were standing in sudden-death decolletage and brown arms everywhere. As you passed along into the tent after paying your dollar fifty carrying your aspidis?tra a blinding flash of some hundred contact lenses came. And a quality of dental work to shame the VA Hospital it was so fine. One fell in love tempo?rarily with all this hard work and money spent just to please to improve. I was sad my dolphin friend was not there to see. I took one by the hand and said "come with me I will buy you a lobster." My real face behind my kind face smiling. And the other girls on their pedestals waved and said "good?bye Marie." And they also said "have a nice lob?ster," and Marie waved back and said "bonne chance!" We motored to the lobster place over to Barwick, then danced by the light of the moon for a bit. And then to my hay where I tickled the naked soles of feet with a piece of it and admired her gestures of marvellous gaucherie. In my mind.
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The reason I like to read this newspaper here the one in my hand, is because I like what it says. It is my favorite. I would be pleased really quite if you could read it. But you cant. But some can. It comes in the mail. I give it to a fellow some time back, put it in his hand and said "take a look." He took a look took a look but he couldnt see anything strawdinary along this newspaper here, couldnt see it. And he says "so what?" Of course I once was in this business myself making newspapers in the de?pression. We had fun then. This fellow I give it to to take a look some time back he that said "so what" is well educated reads good travels far drinks deep gin mostly talks to dolphins click click click click. A professor of ethnology at the University of California at Davis. Not in fine a dullard in any sense but he couldnt see anything strawdinary along this newspaper here. I said look there page 2 the amusing story of the plain girl fair where the plain girls come to vend their wares but he said "on my page 2 this newspaper here talk about the EEC." Then I took it from his hand and showed him with my finger pointing the plain girl fair story. Then he commences to read aloud from under my finger there some singsong about the EEC. So I infer that he is one who cant. So I let the matter drop.
Then a learned man come to call saying "this with the newspaper is not kosher you know that." He had several degrees in Police Engineering and the like and his tiny gun dwelt in his armpit like the growths described by Defoe in Journal of the Plague Year. I judged him to be with some one of the governments. Not overfond of him in my house but I said in a friendly way "can I see it." He took out the tiny black gun and held it in his hand, then slapped me up against the head with it in a friendly way. He coughed and looked at the bottle of worrywine sitting on the table on the newspaper saying "and we can hear the presses in the basement with sensitive secret recording devices." And finally he said sighing "we know its you why dont you sim?ply take a few months off, try Florida or Banff which is said to swing at this season of the year and well pay everything." I told him smiling I didnt get the reference. He was almost crying it seemed to me saying "you know it excites the peo?ple stirs them up exacerbates hopes we thought laid to rest generations ago." He nodded to agree with himself laying soft hands around the windpipe of the gramophone automatically feeling for coun?ter-bugs down its throat saying "we dont under?stand what it is youre after. If you dont like our war you dont have to come to it, too old anyway you used-up old poop." Then he slapped me up alongside the head couple more times with his ex?quisite politesse kicking my toothpick scale model of Heinrich von Kleist in blue velvet to splinters on the way out.
Can you imagine some fellow waking at dawn in Toledo looking at his red alarm clock and then thinking with wonder of a picture drawn in this newspaper here by my friend Golo. When we were in Paris Golo was a famous one because he drew with his thumbs in black black paint which was not then done yet much on brown paper and it made people stop. Now Golo has altered his name because he is wanted. Still he sends me drawings on secular subjects from here and there, when they irritate me I put them in. It is true that I dislike their war and have pointed out that the very postage stamps shimmer with dangerous ideological radiation. They hated that. I run coupons to clip offering Magnificent Butterfly Wing Portraits Send Photo, Transistorized Personal Sun Tanner, How to Develop a He-Man Voice, Darling Pet Monkey Show It Affection and Enjoy Its Company, British Shoes for Gentlemen, Live Seahorses $1 Each, Why Be Bald, Electric Roses Never Fade or Wither, Hotels-Motels Need Trained Men and Women. And I keep the money.
But what else can I do? Making this newspaper here I hold a prerequisite to eluding death which is looking for me dont you know. Girl with knitting needle simply sent to soften me up, a probing ac?tion as it were. My newspaper warm at the edges fade in fade out a tissue of hints whispers glimpses uncertainties, zoom in zoom out. I considered in an editorial the idea that the world is an error on the part of God, one of the earliest and finest here?sies, they hated that. Ringle from the telephone "what do you mean the world is a roar on the part of God," which pleased me. I said "madam is your name Marie if so I will dangle your health in very merrywine this very eve blast me if I will not." She said into the telephone "dirty old man." Who ha who ha. I sit here rock around the clock interview?ing Fabian on his plateglass window incident in my mind. Sweet to know your face uncut and un?abridged. Who ha who ha dirty old man.
Again today the little girl came along dancing doggedly with her knitting needle steel-blue knitting needle. She knows I cant get up out of thischair theoretically and sticks me, here and there, just to make me yell, nice little girl from down the block somewhere. Once I corrected her sharply saying "dont for Gods sake what pleasure is there hearing me scream like this?" She was wearing a blue Death of Beethoven printed dress and white shoes which mama had whited for her that day before noon so white were they (shoes). I judged her to be eleven. The knitting needle in the long thrust and hold position she said "torment is the answer old pappy man its torment that is the games name that Im learning about under labo?ratory conditions. Torment is the proper study of children of my age class and median income and you dont matter in any case youre through dirty old man cant even get out of rotten old chair." Summed me up she did in those words which I would much rather not have heard so prettily put as they were nevertheless. I hate it here in this chair in this house warm and green with Social Security. Do you know how little it is? The little girl jabbed again hitting the thin thigh that time and said "we know exactly how little it is and even that is money down the drain why dont you die damn you dirty old man what are you contributing?" Then I ex?plained about this newspaper here sprinkled with rare lies and photographs incorrectly captioned accumulated along a lifetime of disappointments and some fun. I boasted saying "one knows just where nerves cluster under the skin, how to pinch them so citizens jump as in dreams when opened suddenly a door andthere see two flagrantly. . ." But I realize then her dreams are drawn in ways which differ so that we cannot read them together. I threw then jam jar (black currant) catching her nicely on kneecap and she ran howling but if they come to object I have jab marks in extenuation. Nice little girl from down the block somewhere.
Of course I oncewas in this business myself making newspapers in the depression. So I know some little some about it, both the back room and the front room. If you got in the makeups way theyd yell "dime waitin on a nickel." But this here and now newspaper I say a thing of great formal beauty. Sometimes on dull days the compositors play which makes paragraphs like
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refreshing as rocks in this newspaper here. And then you come along a page solid bright aching orange sometimes and parts printed in alien lan?guages and invisible inks. This newspaper here fly away fly away through the mails to names from the telephone book. Have you seen my library of telephone books I keep in the kitchen with names from Greater Memphis Utica Key West Toledo Santa Barbara St. Paul Juneau Missoula Tacoma and every which where. It goes third class because I print HOTELS-MOTELS NEED TRAINED MEN AND WOMEN AMAZING FREE OFFER on the wrapper. As a disguise.
