Dream Job

 Terrible pleased altogether to be asked to host this year’s Bloomsday Twiterature, The Definitive Indefinite Article’s 10,000-year project to broadcast the entire of Ulysses 140-characters per year.  I even borrowed Tony Balfe’s drape from when he was in the Showaddywaddy cover band – closest thing I could find to Edwardian garb at short notice.  Anyway.   Last year’s Twiterature was a huge success.  It is nice to get away from the box and watching the Copa America and the Euros and it was great to give the new intern Cidney something to do to go into town and get a copy of Ulysses and keep her out of me hair for a while.  Jaysus she has me driven up the wall complaining about not being able to get Hamptons Houseshare Hell on the telly below at the house or something but that is a whole other day’s work.

martello tower sandycoveSo without further ado, as the many says, I give you Bloomsday Twiterature 2016, a genuine cliffhanger, if I may say so.

then covered the bowl smartly. Back to barracks! he said sternly. He added in a preacher’s tone: For this, O dearly beloved, is the genuine

martello tower sandycoveThe Definitive Indefinite Article call facility in Utar Pradesh has been seeing a huge uptick in inquiries about the future of Bloomsday Twiterature.  We have received braces of inquires since the rumored layoffs and downsizing at The Definitive Indefinite Article.  Thankfully a literary Super PAC, Modernists for an Unsure Tomorrow, has made a grant which ail guarantee the future of Bloomsday Twiterature for as long as the internet lasts.  With this largesse at out disposal, we can promise that this year’s installment will be something special but in the meantime, to prime you all for the upcoming extravaganza, here is the story so far:

Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of

lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown,

ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He

held the bowl aloft and intoned:

–_Introibo ad altare Dei_.

Halted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called out coarsely:

–Come up, Kinch! Come up, you fearful jesuit!

Solemnly he came forward and mounted the round gunrest. He faced about

and blessed gravely thrice the tower, the surrounding land and the

awaking mountains. Then, catching sight of Stephen Dedalus, he bent

towards him and made rapid crosses in the air, gurgling in his throat

and shaking his head. Stephen Dedalus, displeased and sleepy, leaned his arms on the top of the staircase and looked coldly at the shaking gurgling face that blessed him,

The Preternaturally Loyal Reader:  Ah that’s lovely now all the same though but.  I can’t wait to see where it goes next.  I mean I do be enjoying yer Hamptons Houseshare Hell and all but it’s not really a jewel of modernism now, is it?  The Bloomsday Twiterature is the highlight of my year, don’t you know.

 

The Loyal Reader: Oh I’ve been looking forwatd to this all weekend.  Couldn’t even concentrate on the World Cup with the sheer anticipation of it.

TDIA: That is very nice of you to say.  Well here ye are and this year fro the first, it is multimedia, with our very first artisanal hand crafted Bloomsday twiterature.

Dedalus, displeased and sleepy, leaned his arms on the top of the staircase and looked coldly at the shaking gurgling face that blessed him,

The Loyal Reader:  Ah that’s lovely.  Food for the soul!  You are making great progress now.  Only another eh, let me see, fourteen, carry the one, 10,600 years or so and you’ll get To Molly’s soliloquy.

bloomtwit

The Loyal Reader: That’s desperate rain all the same.  Wouldn’t put an iron gate out in that!

TDIA: I imagine you are just not here to give me a weather report.

The Loyal Reader: Ehm. No.  I’ve been meaning to drop in.  I was getting worried that there would be not Bloomsday Twiterature this year.

TDIA: Really?

The Loyal Reader: Well what with you know, you’re low brow cheap laughs thing you have going on…

TDIA: I pick up Auden?

The Loyal Reader: You know the Hamptons House Share hell thing.  I mean really, in all fairness, it’s not of the same caliber and I was wondering if, well you were going to abandon the Bloomsday twiterature thing.

TDIA: Are ye mad?  Of course no.  do you really think hamptons House Share hell and Ulysses canot exist in the same space?  Did you kow Joyce opened the first cinema in Dublin?  Did you know Ludwig Wittgenstein used to go to Cowboy movies all the time.  If course they can co exist.

The Loyal Reader: Ah fair enough.  No need to get shirty I was only saying…

TDIA: No harm done and it is as well you remind me.  time to bring everyone up to date – Bloomsday Twiterature The Story So Far:

Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of

lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown,

ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He

held the bowl aloft and intoned:

–_Introibo ad altare Dei_.

Halted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called out coarsely:

–Come up, Kinch! Come up, you fearful jesuit!

Solemnly he came forward and mounted the round gunrest. He faced about

and blessed gravely thrice the tower, the surrounding land and the

awaking mountains. Then, catching sight of Stephen Dedalus, he bent

towards him and made rapid crosses in the air, gurgling in his throat

and shaking his head. Stephen

The Loyal Reader: Ah that’s, lovely.  I’ll be on the lookout for the next installment on Monday.

TDIA: Fair enough.

The Loyal Reader: Now, about the Hamptons, any chance someone will disparage someone else’s fake designer purse this weekend?  Or how on earth could Cliff possibly wear Brinette’s flip flops?  Does she have big feet or he small?  You left that ambiguous.  Will there be any spandex bikinis, I always say they drive clickthrough.  I mean, I’m just curious like.

TDIA: See you on Monday!

 

martello tower sandycoveLoyal readers, it is time for our annual installment of Bloomsday Twiterature, our massive 10,000-year-long project of  one tweet-length installment of Ulysses each year.  The story so far:

STATELY, PLUMP BUCK MULLIGAN CAME FROM THE STAIRHEAD, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressing gown, ungirdled, was sustained gently-behind him by the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:

— Introibo ad altare Dei.

Halted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called up coarsely:

— Come up, Kinch. Come up, you fearful jesuit.

Solemnly he came forward and mounted the round gunrest. He faced about and blessed gravely thrice the tower, the surrounding country and the awaking mountains. Then, ca

The Loyal Reader: Now you’re cooking with gas!  We are really starting to motor!  But tell us this, it is only Friday…

You are correct it is indeed only Friday but past experience has shown that the vast majority of our readers visit us during the workday.  I am sure their weekends are all too crowded with camogie and handball and fixing gutters and picking up the mother from Dunne’s to be visiting the web.

The Loyal Reader: That seems plausible.  I am reminded of advice I have been in the habit of offering at this time of year which is to include at least one gratuitous reference to spandex bikinis to attract new punters.

Will do.  Anyway, without further ado, here is our 2013 Bloomsday Twiterature offering wherein we finally catch sight of the bauld Stephen Daedalus:

tching sight of Stephen Dedalus, he bent towards him and made rapid crosses in the air, gurgling in his throat and shaking his head. Stephen

The Loyal Reader: Ah that’s lovely.  There’s eating and drinking in that.  That’ll keep me going for a while.  See you next year.

Well if you are still in need of more, you can alwasy swing by Ullyses of Stone Street in New York City on Sunday afternoon between 2 and 4 and there will be a great crew reading bits of Ulysses aloud into the sunshine.

In order to justify the use of this Blogspace, The Definitive Indefinite Article is enjoined from time to time to produce something of redeeming social value.  We have argued that Bloomsday Twiterature fulfills this need but have been told that it is a “nasty, dirty book.” So here is the first in a potential series of Public Service Announcements on the theme of Romney becoming President would be like….

Romney becoming president would be like Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory Redux where Verruca Salts gets the goose that lays the golden egg and  the everlasting gobstopper, partners with the real  Slugworth to do a hostile takeover of the factory, deports Willy Wonka (clearly a foreigner) and all the Oompa  Loompas and then asset-strips the factory before moving the whole operation overseas and selling off the building, fixtures and fittings to some predatory venture capitalists and Charlie ends up selling a kidney for food which teaches him the value of self-reliance.

Small Investors thank Hedge Fund Runners