The Unknown: The Red Line.
  The rugged expanse of which is impossible to describe. Which we will most definitely have to describe:

Imagine, if you will, a shapely woman. She is shaped like a continent, and instead of edges, she has shores. And her shores are sandy. There are starfish nearby, picture them, there are fifty of them and they are white against a blue backdrop. In her pubes there is marijuana. And beneath her left arm oil refineries. They are shapely and cast an indigo glow. She is waiting for you to visit her, on a boat docking on her left elbow, and she has forms for you to fill out, yes, lots of them, and there are laws, lots of them, laws you can never understand because they are written in a language you have difficulties with, in a style that even those who know the language have difficulties with. It is like trying to change a tire when you were trying to invent a new wheel, a wheel nobody knew they had always needed because they hadn’t thought of it yet, a literature. Which is like an insect. But within her there are taxicabs and restaurants featuring the foods of countries with better food, and there is the exciting sense that nobody here has figured out what they are doing here, and you could be one of the lucky few who is the first to know what she is doing. And in such a strange country. But these people, as crude as they no doubt seem, have a literature. And since it is all they have, they take it seriously.
Audio Button
Read 10/23/98
at The University of Cincinnati
175K RealAudio Clip

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