Ipso linked to Facto in attempts to ward off Absurdum.

SIDELONG GLANCES
Origami Tessellations · Wrinkles in time as folded by Origami Joel. Do not miss the masks folded from a single sheet of paper. via
Literature in Transit · Bags and wallets made from books. Of particular note or curiosity, the Onoto Watanna clutch here. Also, Rebound Designs. via
DailyLit · Classic books emailed to you in 5 minute bits. via
Honolulu Weekly Summer Books 2006 · What to read in a world of blue.
WriteRoom 1.0b · A small app that creates a full screen writing environment. Black screen, green text, nothing more. Brilliant. Early, early beta. Mac only.

ESSENTIAL THINGS
(what is this?)
about last night
angry little asian girl
asian-american poetry
eat feed
every other day
fait accompli
geegaw.com
hoarded ordinaries
i like
light reading
lisablog
newpages
octopus' garden
on the prairie diamond
peter parasol
poesy galore
poeta y diwata
pullquote
riley dog
self divider
shaken & stirred
the beiderbecke affair
the gurgling cod
the literary saloon
the weekly meat
things magazine
think denk
tingle alley
tympan
unphotographable
vertigo
wood s lot

AND YET
How can the I that claims ownership of the consciousness in this sentences not be disingenuous? How can it not be disingenuous to bypass that I in a sleek little stylistic coupe of One (I plural) or We (I plural)? There’s much to be said right now for a stupefyingly global We as in Who the hell do We think We are?—not the We of kingdom, phylum, class, order, genus, race, ethnicity, nation, culture but yes, of species, unintelligible as that may seem. One asks, Can We really do without “one,” I write in this dangerously dated language. Top down open to weather (we aether), the stately We motors through urban and suburban wordscapes, letters reconfiguring razor blue shadows. Drive-by shooting eyes cast shadows of their own on scene after scene of the revenge of the real. Scattershot puncta, vanishing points, traffic lights signaling the grammar of the blues. Even if I decline ammo amass a mat (philosophical cat on): Whose mat? What mat? What matters? Taking in an over word’s eyes’ view’s apostrophized possession’s and omission’s blue-light district of a war/peace binary-torn world what will become of US ‘n THEM as visceral dichotomy’s epistemological burlesque show now or later still? Can an epistemology of blue know ledge find a way through this maze?
—Joan Retallack, The Poethical Wager
After some initially hopeful post-flood news from libraries in eastern Iowa—a massive volunteer effort at The University of Iowa helped to save its Special Collections—the entire Adult Collection of the Cedar Rapids library is thought to be destroyed.
“It’s a terrible environment” inside the flooded library at 500 First St. SE, said Marie De Vries, an external affairs specialist working with the library. “Mold is crawling up the shelves and walls. We’re almost sure we’ll not be able to save the books.”
The children’s collection on the library’s second floor should be OK, she said, noting specialists from Munters, a national firm that specializes in restoration of water-damaged items, had big dehumidifiers going inside the library, which remains without electrical power or water.
Floodwaters reached to the third or fourth level of shelves in the library’s ground floor last Thursday.
Also: At the Main Library, saving UI history.

Howzit? as if asking after a small alien life form, dotted, with a single eye on a stalk. Elsewhere:
Also, from the department of whose facts are they anyway: Moloka‘i book criticized as unethical, inaccurate.
You are about to begin reading Italo Calvino’s new novel, If on a winter’s night a traveler. Relax. Concentrate. Dispel every other thought. Let the world around you fade. Best to close the door; the TV is always on in the next room. Tell the others right away, “No, I don’t want to watch TV!” Raise your voice—they won’t hear you otherwise—“I’m reading! I don’t want to be disturbed!” Maybe they haven’t heard you, with all that racket; speak louder, yell: “I’m beginning to read Italo Calvino’s new novel!” Or if you prefer, don’t say anything; just hope they’ll leave you alone.
Find the most comfortable position: seated, stretched out, curled up, or lying flat. Flat on your back, on your side, on your stomach. In an easy chair, on the hassock. In a hammock, if you have a hammock. On top of your bed, of course, or in the bed. You can even stand on your hands, head down, in the yoga position. With the book upside down, naturally.
Of course, the ideal position for reading is something you can never find. In the old days they used to read standing up, at a lectern. People were accustomed to standing on their feet, without moving. They rested like that when they were tired of horseback riding. Nobody ever thought of reading on horseback; and yet now, the idea of sitting in the saddle, the book propped against the horse’s mane, or maybe tied to the horse’s ear with a special harness, seems attractive to you. With your feet in the stirrups, you should feel quite comfortable for reading; having your feet up is the first condition for enjoying a read.
Well, what are you waiting for?
—I. Calvino
