the last thing i was grunting about anne b. considers much more lovely.

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misheard? maybe medicine is ac/dc

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crevel: "i know of no words that are more gentle to the ear than two names. the whole world might be saved by the grace of the right syllables."

case in point:

IN SARA, MENCKEN, CHRIST AND BEETHOVEN THERE WERE MEN AND WOMEN

a bit of keith's liner note on ubu:

Wolgamot decided-about 1930-to write a book.

He wrote one name to a page.

But he knew it could be richer. Names react to one another. He made long lists of names and held the list next to the pages of his projected book. When certain names came near each other, there was, he said, "a spark," and that was how he knew they went together. In this way, three names gathered on each page, and then around those three clustered multitudes of names.

And still something was lacking. Each page rhythmically complete, there was no impulse to go from one page to the next. There had to be a matrix, a sentence, to envelop the names. So far, he had spent a year or two composing his book. The sentence, a sentence to be repeated, more or less identically, on each page-this sentence took him ten years to write.

"It's harder than you think," he said, "to write a sentence that doesn't say anything."