juillet 09, 2003
a yankee doodle dandy
Well, it's been a busy few weeks. Most excitingly: last Friday, on the evening of the Fourth of July, I was picking shrimp membranes out of my teeth and swilling rum punch and watching fireworks over the side of my uncle Wally's fishing boat in my old Kentucky home (which isn't in Kentucky, of course), when my cell phone sang out "You're A Grand Old Flag" (which my Daddy's daddy's daddy wrote the music for, actually; George M stole it from him) and then the croaky, weepy, morphiney voice of a strung-out and happy IR revealed, over miles and satellite miles, that Oisin Vertumnus Witkin was born, not diffiultly but with much drugs, at 8:30 PM on July 4, 2003, weighing 10 pounds, 14 ounces.
"He is a big red fucking baby," she breathed into the phone. "He's on my tummy and I can barely breathe."
Posted by anonymousblonde at juillet 09, 2003 05:43 PM
How nice that your crock of a fool can live forever, at least partially, in the name of the IR's child.
Oh my God! Louis Althusser strangled his wife!
I have been trying to figure out the name of the philosopher who strangled his wife for ages, but never long enough to actually ask anyone or look it up anywhere.
It's wonderful to meet you here in the ether, Mme. Althusser.
PS: It's more like the IR's baby can live on forever in my crock of a fool: she'd been planning to name a boy Vertumnus for a while, and the name crept into my head when I wrote that story.
It was indeed my Louis who strangled his wife. It was a cool Novembre evening in quatre-vingt, Louis was massaging my neck. Louis told the inspector that the next thing he realized, I was dead, strangled by his hands. He took it to his grave that what made his hands tighten that final, fateful time was my insistence on calling him a pied-noir. He never could face his Algerian roots. How's that for an Ideological State Apparatus?