I always wanna start with h and then with hu and then I always want first to type the word HUMOR or HUMAN or something veryr close to those 2 words, but this time I thought I would start from the s side of the keyboard, but as I was doing it I realized what I was thinking and decided instead to type what I am typing right now, which is these words. That it is, this is what they are. This is really just an exercise for me, an exercise in what I do not know. But the point of this meaningless exercise is for me to type continuously for 10 minutes, and to not let myself pause for so much as 1 second. I am slowly approaching success in this endeavor, but I really have to say that I can not see anything productive or gentle or nice coming from this, it does make a lot of noise though, all this typing and clattering of the keys, I say it's rather lewd sometimes, like the sounds you hear in movies of people kissing, god that sort of thing makes me want to hurl I wish that people in movies could jut kiss without all the needless side-effects of slobbering noises and spittle and grunting and groping, I mean when was a kiss ever just a kiss? I don't know, but I saw something called "The Kiss" at the Guggenheim last night. It was by a Brooklyn artist, Witkin, Watkin, something like that. I always expect works of art called "The Kiss" to be a commentary on Rodin's The Kiss. This "The Kiss" was, as I recall it now, a picture of the decapitated heads of two men kidding each other, or having been positioned as such so that they appeared to be kissing each other, and it clearly referred to Brancussi, not Rodin, though maybe I could ask one of the cute guards for a brief history. When I was 14, Rodin's The Kiss gave me such a hard-on, it is an unbelievably erotic piece of art, and I felt that way right from the first time I saw it, which was in 1982 when I was flipping through a catalogue of a company called Publisher's Central Bureau and there was this giant picture of that Rodin sculpture, on the cover of a book about erotic art through the ages, or somesuch dull-seeming title as that.
I was sitting in the front seat of the 7th grade teacher's Honda, and I remember suddenly becoming very quiet while I stared at this beautiful sculpture. I was 14. Seeing it now makes me feel 14 all over again. There is something else I was going to say today, and if I would just stop typing for one moment I could probably collect my thought and remember just what that something was, but the noise of all this typing gets to be dreadfully messy, it's kind of wrecking my brain (which is something easily wrecked) and if there was anyone else here in this apartment they would think I had lost my mind, and you know I wonder if they would not be right about that. as I said at the start of this I don't know what value this has except to satisfy some distant strain of academic angst which lingers in my blood. I know that British composer of music composition used to instruct their students to take a sonata by someone like Beethoven and compose a sonata with the exact same number of measures and the exact sa,e tempo and the same development structure and on and on. It was supposed to be a learning experience, but it seems pretty stultifying to me. I know that Charles Stanford was one of the composers who advocated this system of discipline, and look at where it got him in notoriety. I don't actually know if ten minutes is up but I think I'm going to end this silly task and get on with the business at hand, which is quite a shitload of work, actually.
Yes, I can see now that it's only been five minutes and fifty-two seconds. I failed.
