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- From: daq@fc.hp.com (Doug Quarnstrom)
- Subject: Encrypted Description of Douglas O'Toole
- Sender: news@fc.hp.com (news daemon)
- Message-ID: <C1HJJ8.FFM@fc.hp.com>
- Date: Tue, 26 Jan 1993 23:49:55 GMT
- Organization: SPUGE
- X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.1.8 PL6]
- Lines: 75
-
-
- It has been requested that we deliver up a self-description, so I have
- done so. The following is an accurate representation of my appearance.
-
- --------------------------------------------------------------------
-
- Let me begin with some reviews from the more or less independent
- press:
-
- 1. From the _Close Friend Quarterly_: This fellow reminds me a bit
- of Lenin. Mostly it is the profile and the goatee, although
- Lenin's forehead is actually quite a bit larger. Also, Lenin
- is not quite so brutish in appearance. This fellow is what
- Lenin might look like were he to appear on Saturday Night Live
- saying, "I'm just a CAAAVEMAN, comerade."
-
- 2. From _The Post Modern Girlfriend Just After Intercourse Review_:
- "Well, I guess he reminds me a bit of Christ. At least he
- did before he buzzed the hair (Douglas, not Christ).
- And mind you, I am fully aware
- of the incredible irony and vulgarity of the Christ image
- in the context of coitus, but well, that is what he reminds me
- of when he tips his head back, rolls his eyes, and shouts
- -it is finished-."
-
- But, damn the reviews, this is supposed to be an exploration of
- self-description, so here goes.
-
-
- the phenomenology of doug q.
- ---------------------------
-
- several things, not yet nullified, stand out.
- eyes exactly the size of heaven's vault;
- fault lines split, reveal movement, noumenal
- billowing, clouds, a vastness of power
- rendered blue, dulled to grey, hiding yellow
- evanescence, deliquescent burning
- spirit of a star so far so far away,
- there, but too far to burn through the misted
- gathering of nearer power, except for
- occasional stab, stab, stabs: spirit thrust.
-
- this crimson cascading down, the onset
- of Sartre's worm-tongue(?), one mere and mystic magic
- moment, complemented by cerulean blue leaking
- down the sacred hill onto brows cowering under the
- tyranny of mind the travesty of madness too securely
- mounted in the simply sane, the merely
- real. Can't you see those frightened eyes (see)king
- the escape of faith into spirit realms,
- (see)king the love of man, the ubermensch,
- feeling the powershift of second sight?
-
- So, the cape flutters as the wind blows and
- the thunder roars in in over the Starnber-
- gersee (there you feel free): we see jaw-
- clench, we see the hand-flutters, their flighty
- freedom flaunt, up and about the noble
- bust, we see the muscle-flex, the slightly
- fattened Adonis form, firmly, proudly
- planted with brazen legs, feet of iron
- and clay, gazing to the future skies as
- flutter-hands alight upon the hapless head
-
- in hopeless, brave despair.
-
-
- *****
- In my self description, I allude to Eliot's _The Wasteland_,
- the Bible, and Sartre's _Nausea_. I quote my sources
- to avoid accusations of plagiarism.
-
-
- douglas
-