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Utopian Turtletop. Monsieur Croche's Bête Noire. Contact: turtletop [at] hotmail [dot] com

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

“I am a verb.”

Rimbaud didn’t say it. He said, “I is another,” but he didn’t say that.


“I am a verb.”

Nietzsche didn’t say it. He said, “If there is to be art, if there is to be any aesthetic doing and seeing, one physiological condition is indispensible: frenzy,” but he didn’t say that.


“I am a verb.”

Marinetti didn’t say it. He said, “The world’s magnificence has been enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of speed,” but he didn’t say that.


“I am a verb.”

Wynonna Judd didn’t say it. She said, “I was born into chaos,” but she didn’t say that.


“I am a verb.”

Mohammad Ali didn’t say it. He said, “I'm so fast that last night I turned off the light switch in my hotel room and was in bed before the room was dark,” but he didn’t say that.



Ulysses Grant said it.

(I read it in William Safire’s “On Language” column.)


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