Spelling it out

Pagan witch and blogger Elfwreck Chaoist seems to have abandonned blogspot - where she records one of her favourite books as Finnegan's Wake - and moved over to LiveJournal. There she writes at a Joycean linguistic pitch posts such as her Guided Meditation for Stress:

Picture yourself near a stream.

Birds are singing in the crisp, cool mountain air.

Nothing can bother you here.

No one knows this secret place.

You are in total seclusion from that place called the world.

The soothing sound of a gentle waterfall fills the air with a cascade of serenity.

The water is clear.

You can easily make out the face of the person whose head you're holding under the water.

There now, feel better?

Not really. I'd prefer to picture such ignoramuses with a fist romping up through their butt, lower intestine, liver, lungs, throat, and then from within their skull, punching the apostrophy they hallucinate off the surface of their eyes*. But I can't picture what Elfwreck might look like, so I guess she's cast some kind of spell over me, one more powerful than that of literature, or my imagination.




* figuratively speaking.