LIBRARIAN OF BABYLON
LIBRARIAN OF BABYLON
autumnal reading is all about getting inside the head and heart of a grotesque genius manchild, The Factory, & anti-nazi psychedalia. pure hearted amnesicas waking into monsterous pasts.
if you have information pertaining to lilliputans (distinct from little people, midgets, ect.) please email thelibrarianofbabylon@gmail.com
motivated by hatred for his stepfather, a man ceases to grow at age three and subverts the Nazi adgenda through the power of song.
a book that seems like it's about what it would be like to take a shit backwards, until it really really doesn't.
though ill fit to the 'autumnal reading' qualifiers, it's safe to go ahead and read MOBY DICK
Houllebeqc's most recent and alledged last novel is nearly devoid of his signature caustic male leads and replaced by lots of tender caresses and confused plots. A departure from his previous novels whose provocateering concealed lucid commentary on the atrophy of European society - Annihilation is either far too oblique for my mind or is more simply... boring.
Mysteries unfolded over the first three hundred pages recede from view just as you begin to pray that the book will 'start.' The book feels like four fragments grafted together. The most generous analysis I can entertain is a successful paralellism between the unfinished nature of the majority of the plot points and the majority of the characters' feeble will to live. Perhaps there is something to decipher in the muteness of the main character's incapacitated father and his own silece at the end of his life, despite sacraficing his life it in the interest of retaining his tongue. Neither I'm really willing to litigate. If Michel is trying to convince us that the mundanity of life is a walking death we may find grounds for praise of the physically heavy novel that leaves us wondering - what role do blowjobs play in the twilight of life?
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In a rapidly devolving Scott-ish city Thaw is the last man who cares to see the sun. Through a talking mouth in the ground and into the bureaucratic hells of psychedelic medical malpractice and bent time seeking truth, love, and fatherhood.
A world so impossible and distant includes the abdication of governance by human lords to a quantum-cortexin humanoid, an oblique indictment of women (doomed to shirk principles in favor of plush carpeting and wall-sized televisions), near terminal obsession with religious iconography, cannibalized soylent, time that moves at all paces and lizard people that explode like dying stars. I think it's the best thing I read this year.
JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE PARANOID DON’T THINK THEY AREN’T PLOTTING AGAINST YOU
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Ronnie Rocket OR The Absurd Mystery of The Strange Forces of Existence is an unrealized film project of David Lynch. He wrote the screenplay in the late 1970s after the success of Eraserhead and tried many times to make it happen, he had actors lined up and some Hollywood support but not quite enough to take it off the ground. The eponymous Ronnie was cast with actor Michael J. Anderson, who ended up the backwards-talking dwarf in Twin Peaks. The script, though never brought to fruition is teeming with Lynch’s favorite themes and visual language that would repeat in all of his subsequent work (rock and roll, diners, detectives, “stacked” women, teenage passions).
Ronnie Rocket is pumping with pure id in a terrifying world of “bad electricity.” It takes place in a dark sooty factory city, a kind of underworld that may as well be the breeding ground of all the Lynch demons. A mysterious detective reminiscent of Twin Peak’s Agent Cooper goes through this terrible “inner city” and learns that a man named Hank is stealing all the electricity, which somehow makes people act very sick and insane.
“The electricity gets very loud. Suddenly the diner goes crazy. The man to the left of the Detective immediately puts his elbows in his soup. The Detective is suddenly off his stool with his chin pressed into the center of his cheese sandwich on the counter. Terry's hand wants to go down Terry's throat and Terry's teeth want to bite his hand. The waitress must be standing on her head because only her legs and feet rise up above the counter. Each person in the diner is having his own personal seizure from bloody noses to head pounding to tongue swallowing The Detective's eyes are rolling and his chin is flattening his cheese sandwich to the thickness of fine paper.”
In this city everyone has a “short fuse”— men are prone to sudden screaming and violence, the women have horny outbursts begging men to touch their breasts, and during electricity surges the city streets erupt in total chaos and confusion until people go unconscious and die on the spot. Ronnie is a kind of Frankenstein teenage dwarf with a red pompadour and acne who runs on electricity. Ronnie though seemingly braindead has a sweet singing voice and wild dance moves due to him being pumped full of electricity, he is exploited by the music industry and becomes rock star and almost a god. Somehow the detective knows that saving Ronnie will also save the world.
this is a happy movie.
here is a free version with russian subtitles that cannot be removed and terrible quality. Please pay someone $3 and see it properly. an extremley beautiful film with an equal score and a tiny little Bjork.
utter heartbreaker
far less not-happy than the others
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