Wednesday, July 17, 2013

The Sad and Ancient Poetry of Money, and the Undead Cults of Blind Power, and Willful Actuation, the Awesome Awl of the Sacred Ages of Inertia.

Mallarme' lays nude in his house, covered only by a winding sheet, and the life of John Dee flickers mysteriously across its technical surface, partly effaced by caesura, and partly by commodium:

September 10.

Sir Humfry Gilbert graunted me my request to him, made by
letter, for the royalties of discovery all to the North above the
parallel of the 50 degree of latitude, in the presence of Stoner,
Sir John Gilbert, his servant or reteiner; and thereuppon toke
me by the hand with faithfull promises in his lodging of John
Cooke's howse in Witchcross strete, where wee dyned onely
us three together, being Satterday.