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Sunday, July 20, 2008

THE SCRIVENER'S DEFENSE

it's a masterpiece it's said ... who's the master ... he immediately raises his hand to go on record ... he says it ain't me ... it isn't mine the master's peace ... I'm the master's apprentice ... I write the stuff down ... I read it ... it means as much to me as it does to you and not seldom less ... but I'm happy to have the job ... it gives me a thing to do ... and I begin to believe what it says when I hear it said just because it sounds good ... it brings a smile to my lips but not the smile you're thinking ... not all the time at least ... not if the smile you expect is one of satisfaction and not made for complicity's sake ... this one is a lie ... you know that don't you ... here the conclusion reached is vile and here the reasoning is foul but if you hit the intonation right and keep inside the rhythm it sounds as if it's right just enough so that we may take the money and close up for the night ... after all the nights do not the morning make ... the morning will bring the sorrows or the noon or the evening ... the issue is never late ... the conversation at night is never false ... it may seem unnecessary ... to be crude or blunt ... these wanderings not to your own known purpose

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