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The world that I live in consists of 250 advertisements a day and any number of unbelievably entertaining options, most of which are subsidized by corporations that want to sell me things. The whole way that the world acts on my nerve endings is bound up with stuff that the guys with leather patches on their elbows would consider pop or trivial or ephemeral. I use a fair amount of pop stuff in my fiction, but what I mean by it is nothing different than what other people mean in writing about trees and parks and having to walk to the river to get water a 100 years ago. It’s just the texture of the world I live in.
—David Foster Wallace
Friday, March 18, 2022

Each of us is alone in the world (Maugham)

Each one of us is alone in the world.  He is shut in a tower of brass, and can communicate with his fellows only by signs, and the signs have no common value, so that their sense is vague and uncertain.  We seek pitifully to convey to others the treasures of our heart, but they have not the power to accept them, and so we go lonely, side by side but not together, unable to know our fellows and unknown by them.  We are like people living in a country whose language they know so little that, with all manner of beautiful and profound things to say, they are condemned to the banalities of the conversation manual.  The brain is seething with ideas, and they can only tell you the umbrella of the gardener’s aunt is in the house.

W. Somerset Maugham

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Michael C. Rush (aka M. C. Rush)
Direct inquires to:  rushmc @ webnesia.com

(Site was originally called @ Wit's End, then
The Shattered Mirror, before becoming Webnesia.)

Defender of Truth & Justice since (approx.) 1973!