<html><head><base href="x-msg://357/"></head><body style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; -webkit-line-break: after-white-space; "><br><div><div>On Jan 31, 2011, at 5:27 PM, Gerry Quinn wrote:</div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"><blockquote type="cite"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-size: medium; "><div bgcolor="#ffffff"><div><font size="2" face="Arial"><blockquote style="border-left-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-left-width: 2px; border-left-style: solid; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 0px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 0px; "><div style="font: normal normal normal 10pt/normal arial; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: rgb(228, 228, 228); background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; "><b>From:</b><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><a title="thalassocrat08@gmail.com" href="mailto:thalassocrat08@gmail.com">Mr Thalassocrat</a></div><div><font size="2" face="Arial"></font> </div><div>Now recall Sev in the inn at Saltus, when Vodalus' henchmen come for him. This is the first time (I think) that Sev enlarges on his memory, revealing that his rememberings are sometimes so powerful that he can waste "hours and days" on them, "drugged and drunken." When Vodalus' men break into his room, Sev is completely abstracted, will overwhelmed by the "tyranny of memory".</div><div> </div><div>"He sleeps", says one of the Vodalarii. "His eyes are open," says another.</div><div> </div><div>To spin the story: maybe CF is in the same kind of memory fugue when Sev first meets him, perhaps reliving the day with Fechin even as he describes it to Sev.</div></blockquote></font></div><div><font size="2" face="Arial"></font> </div><div><font size="2" face="Arial">Interesting - though he could be just a garrulous old man eager to bend the ear of anyone who will listen!</font></div><div><font size="2" face="Arial"></font> </div><div><font size="2" face="Arial">Lucky the alzabo didn't get him. It would have become the terror of the countryside, wandering around telling stories about Fechin for hours to its victims, until in despair they threw themselves into its jaws...</font></div><div><font size="2" face="Arial"></font> </div></div></span></blockquote>I reproduce here a snippet of the lyrics to "Old Blevins" by the Austin Lounge Lizards:</div><div><br></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: nowrap; "><font class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial"><font class="Apple-style-span" color="#010101"><i>Had he gone plumb 'round the bend?<br>Or could I just not comprehend?<br>His lips were writing lines I could not read,<br>When suddenly, it all came clear to me<br>As he said "Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah<br>Them crazy hippies blah blah blah blah no effect on me<br>Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah </i></font></font></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: nowrap; "><font class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial"><font class="Apple-style-span" color="#010101"><i>The great depression blah blah blah,"<br>And he would not leave me be.</i></font></font></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: nowrap; "><font class="Apple-style-span" face="Arial"><font class="Apple-style-span" color="#010101"><i><br>Old Blevins was still talking when I seized my chance to flee.<br>Back home she's never known I'm not the fool I used to be.<br>But I know that a man and a woman's lives were somehow changed<br>By a loathsome toothless geezer, incoherent and deranged.<br>And my memories of that evening fuel an inner mounting fear<br>That I might become old Blevins anywhere that they sell beer.</i></font></font></span></div><div><font class="Apple-style-span" color="#555555" face="Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: nowrap;"><br></span></font></div><div>Adam</div></body></html>