martello tower sandycoveThe Definitive Indefinite Article is proud to present this year’s installment in their 10,000-year project to broadcast the entirety of James Joyce’s Ulysses at a staggering rate of 140 characters per year.

Admittedly, this year’s gobbet does not move things along very much but does give the reader something to ponder over the next twelve months.  Here ye are now:

Christine: body and soul and blood and ouns. Slow music, please. Shut your eyes, gents. One moment. A little trouble about those white corpu

 

The Earnest Reader: Is it that time of year already?

TDIA: What?  Why do you people keep wandering in here and bothering me?  What time of year?

The Earnest Reader:  Bloomsday.

TDIA: Already?

The Earnest Reader: Exactly what I was saying.  So?

TDIA: So?  What?

The Earnest Reader: Will there be Twiterature this year.

TDIA: Eh yeah sure. Was just a bit distracted lamenting the bloom coming off the rows of cast steel in the world Cup.  Eh here you are:, Picking up from where we left off last year comes this year’s twiterature installment of Ulysses:

gown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:–_Introibo ad altare Dei_.  Ha

The Earnest Reader: Ah, that’s fabulous?  do ye count spaces.

TDIA: We do.  Why.

The Earnest Reader: Just figuring.

TDIA: What?

The Earnest Reader: Well at this rate it’ll take another 10,628 years to do the whole thing.  See ye next year.

What a fantastic year it has been! 

In January we had the immortal quote from our Outraged Reader: “NATIONALIZE THE BASTARD BANKS!’  Of course this was ignored by grown ups with suits in the hope that everyone would forget about the whole thing and, in large part, everyone did.

In February we had the world exclusive on the last letters of Col. Trevelyan Makeshift-Bastion, a similarly exclusive report of Pope Dancing Foxtrot With Celebrity Fascist long before celebrity fascism had even become popular and some assorted ruminations on Ponzi Schemes.

March brought with it wind and rain and disturbing movements on the Hedgeer Hemlien Index, fantastic St. Patrick’s Day frolics, and the news of AIG for Sale.

April was indeed the cruellest month and The Definitive Indefinite Article took to heart the advices of Ludvig Wittgenstein: “Whereof we cannot speak reasonably, we must pass over in silence.”  Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, 7

May we heralded in in time-honored fashion with a stirring rendition of the Internationale, the introduction of Twiterature and its Spanish language version Twiteratura.

June brought us my own mysterious disappearance, Hedgeer Hemlien acquiring Bigote of Barcelona, Bloomsday, the birth of Twiterary Cwiticism and the  launch of ipuke, the app that makes your phone throw up all over itself at night.

July was a slow month with wi fi in Dublin taxis bringing the death of obscurantist conversation and the French Foreign Legion setting fire to Marseilles.

August saw the end of reader-generated content and the rebranding of AIG as CHARTIS

September was a mixed bag of little note.

October saw  Dublin being the real winner in the Olympic bidding process.

November saw the Definitive Indefinite Article branch out into plagiarism, the Thierry Henry Sportsman of the Year/Decade debacle and its associated vinicultural fallout.

December delivered itself of TD Paul Gogarty shouting “Fuck You” at Emmet Stagg in Dáil Éireann, the continuing decease of Samuel Beckett , The Mire’s Year in Review and (the ultimate, the ne plus pas ultra in self-referentiality) the Definitive Indefinite Article Year in Review.

Here’s to another year of pharmaceutical auto bots misguidedly leaving links trying to sell Celexa to the residents of  St. Loman’s Home for Retired, Decrepit and Indigent Blog Taglines and their Relicts. Now pin your ears back, ignore the bad 70’s clothes and enjoy (email subscribers please do not all visit the site at once or you will crash it):

The Earnest Reader: Our Bloomsday reading yesterday provoked a flurry of activity from within the Academic “Community”.  We had not thought dearth had undone so many.  We are therefore delighted to announce the birth of Twiterary Cwiticism.  (Note to public we have already claimed the term Twiterary Theory too.) We have reprinted some of the submissions below.  Needless to say they are limited to 140 characters. 

 The Concerned Reader: Now there is an idea I can really get behind: literary criticism mangled down to 140 characters!

 It was the erstwhile Earl of Rochester who, upon reading Canto VII of Il Purgatorio, remarked to his drinking companions: “A pox on the very

 From Vico, Dante, The Story Untelling by  Rudmose Boaterhat-Pubcrawl, D Litt, Asumpta College Cambridge

 

How can the non Thomist in posse become the harbinger of anti historicity while clinging to the Hegelian precepts gained in years of earnest

 From Joyce and Post Modern Neo-Post-Structuralism, the Postquailist Tendencies by Prof Vicente Caligliari, International Joyce Summer School, Brindisi, Italy

 

When I was a boy old Ma Joyce once caught me robbing the milk bottles off their doorstep.  Drumdondra Road in those days was a place of many

 From I Knew Yr Aul Wan, A Memoir of My Acquaintance With James Joyce by Francis Xavier Pendergast, poet, veterinarian and critic.

The Earnest Reader: The Definitive Indefinite Article is proud to present its first annual Bloomsday reading of Ulysses by James Joyce.

The Concerned Reader: If brevity be the soul of it, read on.  Do your worst.

The Earnest Reader: [Reads]

 Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came across from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressing

The Concerned Reader:  That’s it, right?

The Earnest Reader:  Yep!  Thats twiterature, 140 characters.

The Concerned Reader: You know there are readings that go on all day and night, with famous actors and the like.

The Earnest Reader:  I know.  And there is nothing to stop me doing this bit of twiterature over and over in different voices.  [Reads in bad Ian McKellan impression]

 Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came across from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressing

The Concerned Reader: Please stop now!

The Earnest Reader: Or this, one of those salt of the eeeearth Northside Dubbelin accents loike Misther Jice had:

 Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came across from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressing

The Concerned Reader: Is this the fusebox?

The Earnest Reader: I think it is.  Have you ever heard me do Al Pacino?

[Click. Darkness.  Silence]

 

 

The Earnest Reader: As part of our Interactive Educational Portal I am delighted to announce the first in our series of what we are calling “Classics of World Twiterature”  wherein we twitter the great works of literature.  But first we have decided to adopt “harrow” as the collective noun for clusterfucks.  and now here is our first twitterature offering:

About thirty years ago, Miss Maria Ward, of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds, had the good luck to captivate Sir Thomas Bertram,

The Casual Reader: That’s it?

The Earnest Reader: It is indeed.  isn’t the concision just wonderful?

The Casual Reader: But that’s just the first 140 charcaers of Mansfield Park.

The Earnest Reader: Well spotted!  And what more did you expect on a free blog being run by readers like me?  A 140-character Marxist critique?

The Casual Reader: Point taken.  You will be discontinuing the misleading references to spandex bikinis that were such a blight on this site when the proprietor was in chanrge?

The Earnest Reader:  I had not given it much thought.  I will ponder this.

 

The Concerned Reader: Anyone home?

 

TDIA: I’m under the stairs.

 

The Concerned Reader: What are you doing in there?

 

TDIA: Looking for masking tape.  How did you get in?

 

The Concerned Reader: You left the door open.

 

TDIA: So?

 

The Concerned Reader: We were worried because you’ve been so quiet since you came back.

 

TDIA: Oh I’ve just been really busy with the book handling.  I had to hire a whole team of temps.

 

The Concerned Reader: Really.

 

TDIA: Yeah I haven’t been this busy in years.  I had hundreds of temps dog-earing and making notes all over drafts of the bailout bill.  The last time congress threw all their leftovers into a bill to bulk it up like that was the PARTIOT Act.  300 pages of add-ins!  Insane!  I was getting calls from congressional aides, interns at all the think tanks.  You know none of the elected suits ever read these things.  Every time there is one of these recycling bin bills filled with every piece of legislation that couldn’t get nailed into some other bill, my business explodes.  So now, to relax, I’m going to paint the shed.  Before you know it, there will be another “Bailout Bill – the Fastest Fix in the West” filled with subsidies for hawk breeders, ammunition import tax breaks and assorted crap, amendments to outlaw spandex bikinis within 400 yards of a place of worship.

 

The Concerned Reader: Ah I see.  Well, let me know next time you need book-handlers; I could to with the extra cash.  I wonder if Bailout Bill is friends with The Derivative Kid and Joe the Plumber and Lidia the Dental Hygienist, Trevor the Taxidermist, Montague the Mortician, Axel the Database Administator, and all the other “Insert First Name” “Insert Occupation” folk so beloved of the Republican Presidential Campaign these days?