Wherein an association rents a hall and throws a party

There was a great big party @ The Liberry, right there in The Thomas Jefferson Building, right back through to the Main Reading Room, cocktails in The Great Hall, string quartet upstairs, and lawyers everywhere. The American Bar Association, not being representatives of fine pubs across the country as perhaps believed yet seemingly knowing it and showing it, threw down loot to honor themselves @ the LC @ nite.

My job? To mingle and talk about The Library. Heck Yes! Funass noche with all these shmancy legal folks, including a woman who was trying to sell her FrankLloydWright house but didn't want it to get in the hands of anyone who would significantly change it. All her serious bidders told her how they were going to knock down walls and completely expand and alter and she was horrified. She was also on her way to a full-on drunk night, as all the liquor was free and on tables in front of busts of Thomas Jefferson and George Washington.
She told me of her being the dean of a law school a while back, and how she insisted on authentic Spanish Tile for the rooftops no matter the cost, and how she loved her rare book collection and loved The Library of Congress.


Many told me how much they admired the LC and what they remembered about any research they did and any books of theirs which might be in the stax, or where they sat, but mostly it was me going positively OFF on how dope the room they were standing in was. We were just hanging out in the Mmain Wreading Rroom, not being shush'd, and able to look around and UP freely! Right under the great color collar painting by BLASHFIELD and the secret center sanctified scene only seen from down below where we were, so casually, in a party ... So many lawyers and pearls and wives and bowties and tortoise shell frames and it was to them I was flip-flapping gums regarding the books around them and elsewhere in the Liberry's complex.
As the night progressed the questions progressed free-boozishly from Who are these statues? to There sure are a lotta boobs in the art of this building! How many are there all over, bro? Could be anywhere from 10 to 44 y'know? I know! Beaucoup de Boobage in the decorative schema cuz ya gotta count da sculptures too, including da outside Neptune Fountain crew, which was where I was headed when the lawyers ascended to supper. I drank a refreshing glass of Johnnie Walker and shot out into the snow, the ice-snow blowing hard'n'sideways. Capitol Hill was c-c-c-c-c-cold and I felt GRAND!! Collar up and into the wind, I walked to Union Station to catch my train. I was wearing my grandfather's suit, hell yes. Thank you for wreading this. I tried to write it as fast as I could, just 4 kix.

LIVE'N'DIRECT

Mon Frere, dear brotherself, Hieronymus Whelp thru Zoot Allures 8-trax stax in the backa th'liberry, where today TODAY! I was taken 'round the stax of the Music Division holy frijoles! Walked down aisles and rows past shelves all FULLA crazymany kindamagics, all these musics written down, codified, organizized, and laid on down forever and on. As long as our culture survives and guaranteed longer, these peeple's songs can bee sung, that is, until the Sun . . . stone cold blows up. * Scorching-Hot Composer action, passing handwritten names on archive boxes, some loose folders, pages, posters: Rossini, Koussevitzky, Mozart, Bernstein, Beethoven > saw a LIVE Porgy & Bess score Yes! George Gershwin inkings in close I see'd these pages I know I did! Past more shelves fulla scores and notes and financial records and personal correspondence of Thousandes of Greates of Music, so fun, saw Sergei Rachmaninoff's desk and chair!! What the heck was that doing there? Two interesting nouns in my workbuilding: whatta pair. Later, Amazingly, I turned around quickly and found myself looking right @ the Charles Ives section, top to bottom. Well, middle to top, then down thru middle again and bottom, while class filed passt. * Flipp'd thru an AARON COPLAND score! All the pages were in their own plastic so I was free to freely flip fabulous and I discovered he was so much neater than I'd seen of him before, then I realize he's trying to do a good job, cuz it's for someone, a presentation. He had simply written "Ballet" on it, on others he called it "Martha's Ballet." Martha Graham was creating the dancing. It was to be dedicated to Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge at the Library of Congress, and it was to be called APPALACHIAN SPRING. Hot dog, you ding-a-ling! I love that thing! What soundes! Hell Yes!

Wrobbie Sailor Players Please!

WRASCALLY IMAGE MAKING BY HOWARD BE THY NAME

Putnam Putnam!

At the urging of the American Library Association, President McKinley appointed an actual librarian as Librarian of Congress in the spring of 1899. Herbert Putnam had served as librarian of the Minneapolis Public Library, the Boston Public Library, president of the ALA, and was generally considered an all-around respected fellow of books. Putnam transfigured a research library for the government into a national library with a worldwide reputation, making American librarianship a priority by instituting the Library of Congress classification scheme and pre-printed index cards for handsome wooden card catalogs across the U.S. He retired after 40 years with the title of Librarian Emeritus and was succeeded by a poet.

Logging Large!

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Beelzebubblegum, one of my most common First Words (along with its counterparts: beelzebubba, hubbabubba, bee-hell’s-above-us, bells-a-bubbles) and one of the most fun lexical hubs, gives me ratt-sized ‘lay-it-downetry’: Paira Pearcy eyes starin’ at me, the gift of the usually hidden other eye hotly acute, I do his bidding: get Milton Berle involved in your life. }}}}
Flapjacks and coconuts, hazelnuts and asscracks > Beelzebubble bloodbursts firing soil up my spine alive, secretly passin’ funky messages through them tiny-ass corridors [shout out to cilia in da area] finally spazzing beyond, spraying search-whistles abracadvering, it’s maddeningly endearing as it’s unraveling like kindergarten time-travelling, yammering across three bridges and still we got waters to cross. Our boss is the same boss so don't see me off, cuz. Don't seal me off cuz you’re too much in the moment of Then, less Now and Zen like Bobby-ass Plant on the solo tip so check it: BIG LOG.
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Splendiferous Maximus!

If ya go grabbin' it, don't ask for it, just make it happen 'n' shit. Mmoderne dDay madgrigal mmarauder umbilical biblical, negating the rituals, I am a pattern of Clots & Valves and full-on BIOLOGY ~ smaller than cellular ~ and full-on BIOCHEMISTRY, and ministry to the high-aimes of MYSTERY and deadicated to spreading the goode throughout all neighborhoodly shared relations, hubs 2 spikes 2 radii in permutations used in bankable wagers learning numbers better improves your arsenal in being a man, plus that bat business, hot dog! this is wicked wickermanness, boogity bowler hatness to hot damned manness, misspoke, mistook for madness when gladness reigned gloriously in his chamber of horrorhearts hell yes he coalesce he dangerbest HE BEAST. Hacienda hotcreeps 2 for a lazy dozen ovens all on 350, get the cookie dough ready, rock steady, step nifty, rock steady, step nifty >>>

Sin Soon!

I can't beelieve it's been over a year since I was here, oh dear oh dang, what have I done, what have I been doing? mooing? chewing cud? drinking bud or drinking schlitz? Last noche was "Rebel Yell" Kentucky bourbon and eggnog in-mug action. How could I possibly scorch letters larger than what's been writ? Heaven Above is Hell Insyde! The Wrob Wramparts are lifting! Dozens of Odds & Evens, Steven's radiant dark nature arising, surprising, realizing he's sizing me up ~ Always headed above us, sky all around, beehynde is downe, so all twisting summer-salts, winter-malts, featuring self (+ friendes) in all Directions, Erections are go! Ninety Joe! Agents! Agents of Fortune > Agents Provocateurs > I consider myself a living Agent of the Righteous! Is that too far outsyde the box to goal for? To build structure around? To find a way to ask constructive sentences without finishing with a preposition? I wish the word preposition could also bee considered a preposition by special exception, by its very nature, its definition. My life is truly stranger than fiction. The concentric circles of cohabitating conincidences and common grounding out, grinding gears, both shared and aligned exponentially wizardly, seemingly more combined than parallel'd :: matching trax during plans of attax, the execution of which ones, when to begin and all that :: How soon did I sin? As soon as I sat back to bask in the answers to the questions I never asked :: I have been fulfilled several tymes over, so how to stay hungry?

Nabokov Rock!

First of all you accent the 2nd syllable of both his names ~ vlah-DEE-mir nah-BOA-kov ~ Vladimir Nabokov. Yeah, and the delightfully high holy name Lolita should be said like he says it should be said: ** One of the most limpid and luminous letters is "L". The suffix "-ita" has a lot of Latin tenderness, and this I required too. Hence: Lolita. However, it should not be pronounced as you and most Americans pronounce it: Low-lee-ta, with a heavy, clammy "L" and a long "o". No, the first syllable should be as in "lollipop", the "L" liquid and delicate, the "lee" not too sharp. Spaniards and Italians pronounce it, of course, with exactly the necessary note of archness and caress. ** Lolita ... Lolita ... I've been reading Lolita. Nabokov's foreword begins with that word, then it opens the first sentence & paragraph, and finally the whole darn kickass thing ends triumphantly with her name again. This book is pretty so pretty!