Re: And then there was one

Steve Marshall <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote in message news:<[EMAIL PROTECTED]>...
> On 28 Nov 2003 07:10:32 -0800, [EMAIL PROTECTED] (Paul Hammond)
> wrote:
> 
> >I'm not sure we want to enquire *too* closely into what your
> >evil twin means by "one-handed religion".
> 
> My pearls of ... wisdom ... aren't shed on barren ground. Thank you
> Paul. I feel listened to. :-)
> 
> >Serious danger of TMI, in my opinion.
> 
> TMI? I don't know that TLA.
> 

Too Much Info, mate.

> >Didn't James Joyce make great play of some statue or other
> >being of the "one-handed adulterer"?
> 
> I'll never again be able to look at a statue of Lord Nelson with a
> straight face.
> 

INTERVIEW WITH THE EDITOR

-Just this ad, Mr Bloom said, pushing through towards the steps,
puffing, and taking the cutting from his pocket.  I spoke with
Mr Keyes just now.  He'll give a renewal for two months, he says.
...  What will I tell him, Mr Crawford?

K.M.A.

-Will you tell him he can kiss my arse?  Myles Crawford said
throwing out his arm for emphasis.  Tell him that
straight from the stable. ...
-Well, Mr Bloom said, his eyes returning, if I can get the
design I suppose it's worth a short par.  He'd give the ad,
I think.  I'll tell him ...

K.M.R.I.A.

-He can kiss my royal Irish arse, Myles Crawford cried
loudly over his shoulder.  Any time he likes, tell him.
  While Mr Bloom stood weighing the point and about to
smile he strode on jerkily.

RAISING THE WIND

...
  J.J. O'Molloy pulled a long face and walked on silently.
They caught up on the others and walked abreast.

-When they have eaten the brawn and the bread and wiped
their twenty fingers in the paper the bread was wrapped
in they go nearer to the railings.
-Something for you, the professor explained to Myles
Crawford.  Two old Dublin women on the top of Nelson's
pillar.

SOME COLUMN! - THAT'S WHAT WADDLER ONE SAID

-That's new, Myles Crawford said.  That's copy.  Out
for the waxies' Dargle.  Two old trickies, what?
-But they are afraid the pillar will fall, Stephen went
on.  They see the roofs and argue about where the
different churches are:  Rathmines' blue dome, Adam
and Eve's, saint Laurence O'Toole's.  But it makes
them giddy to look so they pull up their skirts...

THOSE SLIGHTLY RAMBUNCTIOUS FEMALES

-Easy all, Myles Crawford said.  No poetic licence.  
We're in the archdiocese here.
-And settle down on their striped petticoats, peering up
at the statue of the onehandled adulterer.
-Onehandled adulterer! the professor cried.  I like
that.  I see the idea.  I see what you mean.

DAMES DONATE DUBLIN'S CITS SPEEDPILLS VELOCITOUS
AEROLITHS, BELIEF.

-It gives them a crick in their necks, Stephen said, and
they are too tired to look up or down or to speak.  They
put the bag of plums between them and eat the plums out
of it, one after another, wiping off with their
handkerchiefs the plumjuice that dribbles out of their
mouths and spitting the plumstones slowly out between
the railings.
  He gave a sudden loud young laugh as a close.  Lenehan
and Mr O'Madden Burke, hearing, turned, beckoned and
led on across towards Mooney's
-Finished? Myles Crawford said.  So long as they do no
worse.

SOPHIST WALLOPS HAUGHTY HELEN SQUARE ON PROBOSCIS.
SPARTANS GNASH MOLARS.  ITHACANS VOW PEN IS CHAMP.

-You remind me of Antisthenes, the professor said, a disciple
of Gorgias the sophist.  It is said of him that none could
tell if he were bitterer against others or against himself.
He was the son of a noble and a bondwoman.  And he
wrote a book in which he took away the palm of beauty
from Argive Helen and handed it to poor Penelope.
  Poor Penelope.  Penelope Rich.
  They made ready to cross O'Connell street.

HELLO THERE, CENTRAL!

At various points along the eight lines tramcars with
motionless trolleys stood in their tracks, bound for
or from Rathmines, Rathfarnham, Blackrock, Kingstown
and Dalkey, Sandymount Green, Ringsend and Sandymount
Tower,...

WHAT? - AND LIKEWISE - WHERE?

-But what do you call it? Myles Crawford asked.  Where
did they get the plums?

VIRGILIAN, SAYS PEDAGOGUE.  SOPHOMORE PLUMPS FOR
OLD MAN MOSES

-Call it, wait, the professor said, opening his long 
lips wide to reflect.  Call it, let me see.  Call it:
_Deus nobis heac otia fecit_.
-No, Stephen said.  I call it _A Pisgah Sight of
Palestine_ or _The Parable of the Plums_.
-I see, the professor said.
  He laughed richly.
-I see, he said again with new pleasure. Moses and the
promised land.  We gave him that idea, he added to
J.J.O'Molloy.

HORATIO IS CYNOSURE THIS FAIR JUNE DAY

  J.J.O'Molloy sent a weary sidelong glance towards the
statue and held his peace.
-I see, the professor said.
  He halted on sir John Grey's pavement island and peered
aloft at Nelson through the meshes of his wry smile.

DIMINISHED DIGITS PROVE TOO TITILLATING FOR
FRISKY FRUMPS.  ANNE WIMBLES, FLO WANGLES - 
YET CAN YOU BLAME THEM?

-Onehandled adulterer, he said, smiling grimly.  That
tickles me, I must say.
-Tickled the old ones too, Myles Crawford said, if the
God Almighty's truth was known.

---

James Joyce.