…here in East Eden, East Eden which lies somewhere between Jupiter and Arcturus, it is incumbent upon me (dba NFTD) to regale you with my dazzling artistry, my joie de vivre, my elan; indeed my aim is to leave you breathless, strike you dumb, mouth agape at every subtle nuance I so cleverly impart, to leave you chortling with mirth, bent with bittersweet sadness and/or joy; and various other incarnations one writhes through as life goes on. Indeed, if I fail to do as I have mentioned, the onus is on me, I will have failed for want of trying.
I’m going to start next issue.
Meanwhile, welcome back to the more modest version.
Just playing with words as usual – I like the bit about out in space between Jupiter/Arcturus, stole it from either Lisa Scottoline (very fine writer of Philly detective stories) or Joseph Tannebaum (very fine writer of New York detective stories – both former lawyers, may in fact still be) but the ‘space cadet-in-residence’ is my own so not all love’s labors lost, which is ripped off from Shakespeare.
I’ve read or heard that there’s really no need to say or write anything anymore because by now it’s all been said one way or another by somebody else; still I keep prattling on hoping to hit the Mother Lode now and then, literarily and fi$cally $peaking.
NFTD may not after all be the vehicle I’ve so long thought; instead of salvation from, it may be deliverance to…anyway, just warming up the fingers, letting the clutch out on the cerebellum, shifting into overdrive, heading out on the highways of the mind, looking for adventures of all kinds. (A lily of Steppenwolf’s I gilded.)
I’ll concentrate on trying to hit versions of things that may not have reached your domain as yet, esoteric and eclectic, eldritch screams and hoydenish/adolescent blatherings notwithstanding…
Enjoy? That may not be the word, but read on, MacDuff…