Happy birthday, Vladimir Nabokov!
The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness. Although the two are identical twins, man, as a rule, views the prenatal abyss with more calm than the one he is heading for (at some forty-five hundred heartbeats an hour). I know, however, of a young chronophobiac who experienced something like panic when looking for the first time at homemade movies that had been taken a few weeks before his birth. He saw a world that was practically unchanged-the same house, the same people- and then realized that he did not exist there at all and that nobody mourned his absence. He caught a glimpse of his mother waving from an upstairs window, and that unfamiliar gesture disturbed him, as if it were some mysterious farewell. But what particularly frightened him was the sight of a brand-new baby carriage standing there on the porch, with the smug, encroaching air of a coffin; even that was empty, as if, in the reverse course of events, his very bones had disintegrated.
—Vladimir Nabokov
—from Speak, Memory
intromission /in-troh-MISH-ən/. noun. Generally, the act of introducing, inserting or entering. Specifically, the very first moment of sexual intercourse. In (Scots) law, to assume the authority to deal with another’s property either with permission (legal intromission) or without (vicious intermission). From Latin intrō (inward) + missum (to send). ¶ See also: adosculation (impregnation by external contact, sans intromission) of which the 1753 Chambers Cyclopedia notes, “divers kinds of birds and fishes are also impregnated by adosculation.” Also?
“I am sorry that you lost your cause of Intromission, because I yet think the arguments on your side unanswerable.” (Samuel Johnson)
“Clint slid off his sunglasses, and smiled, deciding to exercise his new confidence: the confidence he enjoyed as a Laureate of the San Sebastiano Academy for Men of Compact Intromission.” (Martin Amis)
“Lindy chatters away breathlessly as her probes nuzzle and squeeze into my orifices, filling my intimate spaces front and rear, top and bottom. It’s not the intromission that offends—she is considerate and lubricious, the pulsing sense of congestion pleasant after so long without intimate contact—but I find her personality annoying. It’s like being molested by a sleeping bag that speaks in Comic Sans with little love-hearts over the i’s.” (Charles Stross)
“‘All about what?—all about what?’ said Delia, whose attempt to represent happy ignorance seemed likely to be spoiled by an intromission of ferocity. She might succeed in appearing ignorant, but she could scarcely succeed in appearing happy.” (Henry James)
“This brief relapse to the mundanity of modern electronics had the salutory effect of making us more or less start over again, intermission leading to re-intromission, so to speak.” (Alfred Alcorn)
From Colgate Lasagne to Crystal Pepsi: visit the Museum of Failure :: See also, the Museum of Failure site.
When I’m not actually having to listen to the tampering, disabling and destroying of words, I find the language of air travel fascinating. → How to Speak Airline: A Glossary For Travelers
The long, sad, maddening take of Google Books and what might have been. → Torching the Modern-Day Library of Alexandria :: And if that isn’t enough, pairs well with How Google Book Search Got Lost.
Access a database of 70,000 books banned around the world going back to 1575
Literature is built on lone and level sands… → Is Snapchat the sign of a post-literary future?
Easy to read…not necessarily so easy to do. But still. → Mindfulness in Plain English
“…explore collections of music, dance, and speech from almost every corner of the globe, recorded by hundreds of pioneering ethnographers” organized by geography or culture. → The Global Jukebox :: Speaking of global exploration, The Google giveth and The Google taketh away…the new Google Earth is amazing.
Take a moment to marvel at Jordan Matters’ Tiny Dancers Among Us photos.
Today is English Language Day at the United Nations, celebrating one of the six official UN languages and the “lingua franca of the modern era.” April 23 was chosen because it is, as Clamorites probably know, the day chosen to commemorate William Shakespeare’s birth (and death). If nothing else, it’s a good day to bovver yourself a little to appreciate the beautiful weirdness of English or worry over its place in academia, etc. How will you celebrate?
► “For a curious young boy, The War of the Worlds is just the beginning.”.
Eran Amir’s ► This Video is Not in Reverse is just what it says (and trippy). See also the other two related films: ► Black & White (In Colour) and ► Fast Slow Motion.
Reader B. on ‘the sorrows of young mirther’: “Your title this week sent me into deeply Romantic, even Byronic groans.”
Reader C. on litost: “Experiencing litost, deep in the bones, is the first sign of real adulthood.”
Reader J.: “I’m so glad I followed the link to Self Reflected. The combination of art, technology, and the brain was fascinating and beautiful.”
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