MayBee has been laying down good comments for years so we know she is intelligent, well-informed, thoughtful and courteous. That sort of affirmation from her is valuable.
Without that context, MayBee's comment would mean little more than "like."
There is such a thing as the Althouse community.
The comments over at The Sartorialist are nauseating.
Because (of) “The perturbations, anxieties, depravations, deaths, exceptions in the physical or moral order, spirit of negation, brutishness, hallucinations fostered by the will, torments, destruction, confusion, tears, insatiabilities, servitudes, delving imaginations, novels, the unexpected, the forbidden, the chemical singularities of the mysterious vulture which lies in wait for the carrion of some dead illusion, precocious & abortive experiences, the darkness of the mailed bug, the terrible monomania of pride, the inoculation of deep stupor, funeral orations, desires, betrayals, tyrannies, impieties, irritations, acrimonies, aggressive insults, madness, temper, reasoned terrors, strange inquietudes which the reader would prefer not to experience , cants, nervous disorders, bleeding ordeals that drive logic at bay, exaggerations, the absence of sincerity, bores, platitudes, the somber, the lugubrious, childbirths worse than murders, passions, romancers at the Courts of Assize, tragedies,-odes, melodramas, extremes forever presented, reason hissed at with impunity, odor of hens steeped in water, nausea, frogs, devilfish, sharks, simoon of the deserts, that which is somnambulistic, squint-eyed, nocturnal, somniferous, noctambulistic, viscous, equivocal, consumptive, spasmodic, aphrodisiac, anemic, one-eyed, hermaphroditic, bastard, albino, pederast, phenomena of the aquarium, & the bearded woman, hours surfeited with gloomy discouragement, fantasies, acrimonies, monsters, demoralizing syllogisms, ordure, that which does not think like a child, desolation, the intellectual manchineel trees, perfumed cankers, stalks of the camellias, the guilt of a writer rolling down the slope of nothingness & scorning himself with joyous cries, that grind one in their imperceptible gearing, the serious spittles on inviolate maxims, vermin & their insinuating titillations, stupid prefaces like those of Cromwell, Mademoiselle de Maupin & Dumas fils, decaying, helplessness, blasphemies, suffocation, stifling, mania,--before these unclean charnel houses, which I blush to name, it is at last time to react against whatever disgusts us & bows us down.” ― Comte de Lautréamont, Chants de Maldoror
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১৮টি মন্তব্য:
This is so, so, so good Althouse.
More about bears.
Bears are a bit less divisive than politics.
(unless they're Chicago bears)
Because we don't come here to be bored.
If they all began like that, you wouldn't appreciate it when it occurs. Like my father would say "Every day can't be Sunday".
Some of the topics are clinkers?
Be careful what you wish for. Titus can tell you more about bears than you might want to know.
Hey, why don't all the comments threads begin like...
Our art, our job as commenters, is to ‘tame the proud.’
Our art, our job as commenters, is to ‘tame the proud.’
When Harvard starts teaching a course on my body of work, that comment is sure to be included.
When Harvard starts teaching a course on my body of work, that comment is sure to be included.
I'm not suggesting that that comment, alone, will be enough to win me the Noble Prize in Literature. But it will be a factor.
"This comment has been removed by the author."
Why don't all threads start like this?
"This is so, so , so good Althouse."
Not all threads start like that because no true Dylan fan would want to be sucked up to that way.
Don't worry all, secretly she is laughing at herself.
MayBee has been laying down good comments for years so we know she is intelligent, well-informed, thoughtful and courteous. That sort of affirmation from her is valuable.
Without that context, MayBee's comment would mean little more than "like."
There is such a thing as the Althouse community.
The comments over at The Sartorialist are nauseating.
Hahahhaha!
There have been so many times I went to say that, but I was not first so I kept silence.
Because (of) “The perturbations, anxieties, depravations, deaths, exceptions in the physical or moral order, spirit of negation, brutishness, hallucinations fostered by the will, torments, destruction, confusion, tears, insatiabilities, servitudes, delving imaginations, novels, the unexpected, the forbidden, the chemical singularities of the mysterious vulture which lies in wait for the carrion of some dead illusion, precocious & abortive experiences, the darkness of the mailed bug, the terrible monomania of pride, the inoculation of deep stupor, funeral orations, desires, betrayals, tyrannies, impieties, irritations, acrimonies, aggressive insults, madness, temper, reasoned terrors, strange inquietudes which the reader would prefer not to experience , cants, nervous disorders, bleeding ordeals that drive logic at bay, exaggerations, the absence of sincerity, bores, platitudes, the somber, the lugubrious, childbirths worse than murders, passions, romancers at the Courts of Assize, tragedies,-odes, melodramas, extremes forever presented, reason hissed at with impunity, odor of hens steeped in water, nausea, frogs, devilfish, sharks, simoon of the deserts, that which is somnambulistic, squint-eyed, nocturnal, somniferous, noctambulistic, viscous, equivocal, consumptive, spasmodic, aphrodisiac, anemic, one-eyed, hermaphroditic, bastard, albino, pederast, phenomena of the aquarium, & the bearded woman, hours surfeited with gloomy discouragement, fantasies, acrimonies, monsters, demoralizing syllogisms, ordure, that which does not think like a child, desolation, the intellectual manchineel trees, perfumed cankers, stalks of the camellias, the guilt of a writer rolling down the slope of nothingness & scorning himself with joyous cries, that grind one in their imperceptible gearing, the serious spittles on inviolate maxims, vermin & their insinuating titillations, stupid prefaces like those of Cromwell, Mademoiselle de Maupin & Dumas fils, decaying, helplessness, blasphemies, suffocation, stifling, mania,--before these unclean charnel houses, which I blush to name, it is at last time to react against whatever disgusts us & bows us down.”
― Comte de Lautréamont, Chants de Maldoror
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