JOURNAL OF THIEVES

It is obviously insufficient to repeat empty slogans: the author has disappeared; God and man died a common death. Rather, we should reexamine the empty space left by the author’s disappearance; we should attentively examine, along its gaps and fault lines, its new demarcations, and the reapportionment of this void; we should await the fluid  functions released by this disappearance.

and After driving 400 miles and schmoozing with famous “celebrities,” Oprah and Gayle have worked up quite an appetite. Gayle made her love of food well known when she went in search of the best burger and best cake in America, so how could she pass up one of the world’s biggest buffets? “Nobody likes a buffet better than Gayle King,” Oprah says.

Once inside the Carnival World Buffet at the Rio Hotel, the edible offerings stretch from one end of the room to the other. Oprah and Gayle have their choice of everything from sushi to pizza to crab legs! After Oprah’s first full day on the road, she says she needs something a little stronger…a fish bowl-sized margarita should do the trick! “One day down, about 3,000 miles to go,” she says. “No problem.”

LOL… ZUP YA, FINALLY GOT THE CHANCE TO UPLOAD THE DAMN PIX FROM FRIDAY NITE… SORRY TOOK A WHILE… WAS SICK ALL DAY YESTERDAY AND TODAY WITH THE WORST HANG OVER (THANX TO CARLITOS) LOL… STILL LOVE U PA… BUT ALL IN ALL I HAD A BOMB ASS TIME… JUST WANT TO THANK ALL MY CLOSE FRIENDS AND FAMILY THAT JOINED ME AT THE DINNER AND THE CLUB AS WELL… AND ERRRBODY WHO SHOWED UP TOO… IT WAS GREAT… (FROM WHAT I REMEMBER)… LOVE YA!!!

Everyone felt relieved at his own rottenness, soothed at escaping moral and aesthetic effort. What crawled towards the brothels was a mass of desires craving quick fulfilment, dragging itself along a thousand legs, seeking and finding in some damp and quivering hole where the frustration of a week would vanish in five jolts and in as many seconds.

“As a consequence, all the van Brandens in the world only verified his ineluctable solitude, his impregnable skepticism when faced with the intractable vanity of all human enterprise, of everything undetaken by those unfortunate blind creatures who come to death without ever having suspected the marvel of the world, felt the miraculous passion which fires our knowledge that we are alive and that death, without beginning or end, a pure, limitless presence, is a part of that life.”

Edited by, & with a big kiss from, yours truly. xxx

“I think,” I said, “that it’s more a question of aesthetics than of ethics. That these women prostitute themselves with our consent and assistance doesn’t concern us at all. What isn’t easy to bear is the kind of life it pays for: very lucrative, of course, but hopelessly monotonous. In our Catholic Western world, prostitution and marriage are viewed as diametrically opposed. In fact, when we observe one of them as closely as we have, the antithesis dissolves and is absorbed into a kind of aberrant parallelism. But I don’t think we have to be so philosophical about it. Finding out that prostitution is as conventional as marriage, we’ve only confirmed the path we’ve chosen; our wandering and our desire never to reject what life, or fate, or chance, or whatever you want to call it offers along the way — at least that keeps us from falling into a dreadful, resigned acceptance.”