On Apr 19, 10:30 am, Alric Knebel <al...@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
> wrote:
>
> I read that book back in the 80s, and it was an odd thing. Then a few
> years ago, I bought a newer edition of it, that was "restored." The
> original was published posthumously and it wasn't clear what Kafka
> wanted, so the new edition went back to his original intent or
> something. I never got around to reading it, and I don't even remember
> the other edition to even make a comparison. I remember it was a bleak
> novel with a stark conclusion, and it seemed to just END.
>
Existentialism as a forerunner of the politico safeguard, the enured
and bred career politician, as opposed to the extengent man of and for
occasions and representative of the peoples' democratic popular
front. To Dean Koontz and his more of recent stylistic horror
adaptations of note drawn from a s***-infested ditch of post-Berlin
WW2. As to Salvador Dali's capable aptitude to still life, his Hidden
****trait of his wife, Gala's bare ass, as is to the rational man
presented de****ment in the face of mayhem.
"[wiki-] ... "normal" human nature, of acting upon one manic thought
after another and chasing along with surprise after surprise, yet
without direction and without result." Zounds zuzpiciouzly PZ to me,
no less relevant. Yet, there's further corollaries relating to his
real-life engagement, much less ***ual innuendoes, I hadn't
encountered.
The expatriate Lebanese poet, Gahil Gibran, said something about the
dying insentience that occurs inside a burdened people, the analogy
being the children are to be killed, before the despotic alter, as it
were, of bureaucracy. I don't remember the ending well from The
Trial, rather, perhaps from another, in as much an imagery of being
tortured by writing. The writing takes place on the skin in
painstaking fa****on, so as to be illegible, or nearly so. For,
contrary to any nondescript manner, through the tortuous ordeal of
being painfully written upon by scalpel, punishment entails, that the
realization of the words inscribed in blood become apparent,
tantamount to guilt that imposed upon the very limitations and
restraint each is capable of suffering.
"[wiki-]...K's execution is seemingly his triumph, in that he realised
the constant deferment implicit in his desire for "admittance to the
Law" and instead accepted his fate without withering like the old man
waiting his whole life at the door of the Court..."
Rather has parallels into George Orwell (not H.G. Wells, or wherever
the **** that was headed, a Victorian as well fancying himself a
parlor seer, from a dying breed of everymans' gentlemen), and 1984.
Orwell wrote that book, by the way, consumptively. His leisures from
a youthful stint in India eventually caught up with him, in the form
of terminal illness, which, combined with services to the War Ministry
Office, lent to rendering 1984 what no one else could have conceived.
--
"Check my life,
if I am in doubt; I'm tellin':
3 o'clock roadblock
And "Hey, Mr. Cop! Ain't got no -
(What ya sayin' down there?)
Ain't got no birth certificate on me now."
-BMarley
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