Not funny really in this time of Infinite Jests, but maybe it is really exactly how I feel. I mean in the sense of eternal return, or Metampsychosis, or however you spell it and whatever Joyce was talking about.... I'm hanging the show. I feel like a worker... blue color on the ladders with the back into it. I mean to say that hanging a book is a physical act. I've been training for it like a boxer at the gym.. but my fucking thumbs are still weak for the push pins and the map pins and the pins and needles and needles and pins.....music here is some odd Brian Wilson post Smile mid mad period song. Fucking lovely and perfect fit for my raw time lapse.

futureofthebook.org/itinplace/archives/2008/09/reading_room.html
ussagallery.com/
my first ME RIGHT NOW clip