milepost
I'm engrossed in Culture Weekend, which I'll have to write up as a big piece tomorrow because I have to clean all this stuff in my apartment. This time tomorrow: W.S. Merwin, William H. Gass, and The Firebird.
There's a literate graffitist going after men's rooms in Iowa City bars. In the last week I have seen "Fickt nicht mit der Raketmensch!" written over urinals in Martinis and the Deadwood. The sentence is from Gravity's Rainbow and means "Nothing fucks with the Rocketman!"—though I think the correct German would be "Fickt nicht mit dem Raketemensch!" I can't look it up because Marlowe has had my copy of Gravity's Rainbow since May, when he spent a couple weeks lying on my futon and reading my books while I was in Arizona.
Rocket 00000 (mp3: 3.7 mB) is a song from summer 1999, when I was living in a Reno apartment. It's about bombs.
