The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive

January 26, 2002


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Girlboy Alan


tori:*:9314:99:Lurking Girl:/net/u/8/t/tori:/usr/local/bin/zsh
phatgirl:*:16767:99:kathleen:/net/u/4/p/phatgirl:/usr/local/bin/zsh
kboyle:*:2382:99:Kevin Boyle:/net/u/1/k/kboyle:/usr/local/bin/lsh
brooklyn:*:9684:99:Steve Rayboy:/net/u/1/b/brooklyn:/usr/local/bin/tcsh
cboylan:*:13138:99:Chris Boylan:/net/u/4/c/cboylan:/usr/local/bin/lsh
wboyce:*:16720:99:Willis Boyce:/net/u/1/w/wboyce:/usr/local/bin/bash
joejarre:*:17675:99:Boyce W. Jarrett:/net/u/1/j/joejarre:/bin/sh
grid:*:18114:99:Daniel J Boyle:/net/u/1/g/grid:/usr/local/bin/bash
tankboy:*:18645:99:Scott Ettin:/net/u/1/t/tankboy:/usr/local/bin/tcsh
asf:*:352:99:Alan S. Fink:/net/u/16/a/asf:/usr/local/bin/tcsh
alanb:*:1267:99:Alan Blattberg:/net/u/1/a/alanb:/usr/local/bin/psh
drogin:*:1565:99:Alan Drogin:/net/u/7/d/drogin:/usr/local/bin/psh
alangood:*:1740:99:Alan Good:/net/u/1/a/alangood:/usr/local/bin/psh
alan:*:2313:99:Alan:/net/u/1/a/alan:/usr/local/bin/psh
sugarman:*:2394:99:Alan Sugarman:/net/u/11/s/sugarman:/usr/local/bin/psh
gerber:*:3874:99:Alan Gerber:/net/u/2/g/gerber:/usr/local/bin/tcsh
sondheim:*:4564:99:Alan Sondheim:/net/u/6/s/sondheim:/usr/local/bin/ksh
adc:*:5462:99:Alan D. Cabrera:/net/u/4/a/adc:/usr/local/bin/tcsh
chips:*:7547:99:Alan Brooks:/net/u/1/c/chips:/usr/local/bin/psh
alanier:*:14242:99:Adam Lanier:/net/u/11/a/alanier:/usr/local/bin/tcsh
dag:*:14298:99:David Alan Gross:/net/u/16/d/dag:/usr/local/bin/zsh
yankl:*:14816:99:Jeffrey Salant:/net/u/15/y/yankl:/usr/local/bin/psh
alanwho:*:16296:99:alanwho:/net/u/3/a/alanwho:/usr/local/bin/tcsh
arf:*:16614:99:Alan Silverman:/net/u/1/a/arf:/usr/local/bin/psh
asaly:*:17360:99:Alan Saly:/net/u/1/a/asaly:/usr/local/bin/psh
allenk:*:18141:99:Alan Kleiman:/net/u/1/a/allenk:/usr/local/bin/tcsh
7	name girl
8	name girl > zz
9	name boy
10	name boy >> zz
11	name alan
18	name alan >> zz


_

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in the hole of the forest
claudia
of the vectors of disease

there were creatures about, clumps of these almost black, almost charred,
insects, sometimes hundreds hung together, crawling across themselves like
a furrowed moving fruit. beneath them were fern fronds in the dim light,
and on the fronds were insects with white cotton freezing them at the
joints, a form of spittle or mold perhaps, or perhaps even the guise of
another species imitating the dead. we were wanderers without hope of the
truth; later i'd spend hours passing out images, begging for identifica-
tion, searching online and off, to no avail. only that they were bugs, of
the hemiptera, fattened and joined, of the three types - one ovoid with
the red outpostings, one circular, and where the x-ed wings crossed there
was a lighter darker tan against the slate of the rest, and that pentagon-
al, also with the tan and slate, but the wings slightly more prominent. in
all of them the wings seemed pasted on, thinned, useless. i took image
after image. all of similar types were not only poisonous, but the vectors
:we walked through the clumps carefully; the bugs were sluggish, of the
order of bugs with the wings x-ed and flattened across their backs, almost
slatish in color, hanging from vines, in the forks of the trees, only in
this dense and twisted half-lit spot, isolated from the rest of the
thicket. we returned again to gather more images, stopping only at the
atala butterfly, threatened and endangered, this orange-bodied dark-blue
creature of the glade. but we went in farther, breaking through brazilian
pepper, cabbage palm, and other palms and trees - the latter so twisted,
we emerged later with blood on our arms.:at last i came to the eastern
blood-sucking conenose and it seemed pinned down for the moment. this led
to chiagas, darwin's disease, also to kissing and assassin bugs, hemiptera
all, but the proboscis was different. it was a dead end. i noticed the as-
sassins seemed lone assassins; our bugs are two-fold or three-fold gender,
at least three different morphs, heavily communal. it seems impossible. i
want to hold my arm out, my flesh out, to their touch, their gatherings.
there are an enormous number of potential diseases, some deadly. i want to
call them to me, the squat ones with the outline of the housefly on their
back and red protuberance on their sides, and the flattened ones of
unearthly colors, some almost circular, some pentagonal, reflecting the
simulacrum of more popular species.::

at last i came to the eastern blood-sucking conenose and it seemed pinned
down for the moment. this led to chiagas, Darwin's disease, also to kiss-
ing and assassin bugs, hemiptera all, but the proboscis was different. it
was a dead end. i noticed the assassins seemed lone assassins; our bugs
are two-fold or three-fold gender, at least three different morphs, heavi-
ly communal. it seems impossible. i want to hold my arm out, my flesh out,
to their touch, their gatherings. there are an enormous number of potent-
ial diseases, some deadly. i want to call them to me, the squat ones with
the outline of the housefly on their back and red protuberances on their
sides, and the flattened ones of unearthly colors, some almost circular,
some pentagonal, reflecting the simulacrum of more popular species, there
were creatures about, clumps of these almost black, almost charred, in-
sects, sometimes hundreds hung together, crawling across themselves like a
furrowed moving fruit. beneath them were fern fronds in the dim light, and
on the fronds were insects with white cotton freezing them at the joints,
a form of spittle or mold perhaps, or perhaps even the guise of another
species imitating the dead. we were wanderers without hope of the truth;
later i'd spend hours passing out images, begging for identification,
searching online and off, to no avail. only that they were bugs, of the
hemiptera, fattened and joined, of the three types - one ovoid with the
red outpostings, one circular, and where the x-ed wings crossed there was
a lighter darker tan against the slate of the rest, and that pentagonal,
also with the tan and slate, but the wings slightly more prominent. in all
of them the wings seemed pasted on, thinned, useless. i took image after
image. all of similar types were not only poisonous, but the vectors {your
nervous system my penetrating} ::of fatal disease. we were covered with
marks, almost sexualized, as our bruised breasts would warrant comparison
of the living with the dead. we left stones unturned, noted the reddened
swollen bellies of one of the morphs.:turning this way and that:everything
moved slowly nothing moved

of the vectors of disease of black turning this way and that

in the hole in the forest
claudia
of the vectors of disease


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