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Old 03-08-2017, 01:09 PM
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And Then The Murders Began


I could have done this in Cafe Society, I guess, but what the hell.

You may have already seen this on Twitter or Facebook; author Marc Laidlaw has theorized that most, if not all, books can be vastly improved by inserting "And then the murders began" as the second sentence.

So, the game here is to pick an opening line of a book - or, heck, a well known short story or novella, why not? - and then make "And then the murders began" the second sentence. Do not post the title of the book or author, it's more fun if you just flat type it. Trust me; most of the ones you'll think of right away have been done, but don't worry about it, post 'em anyway and let's get them all. I'll start with the next post.

Last edited by RickJay; 03-08-2017 at 01:10 PM.
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Old 03-08-2017, 01:09 PM
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"Call me Ishmael." And then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 01:15 PM
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[If we're to guess the titles, that's Moby Dick.]


It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. And then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 01:33 PM
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A: A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens.

(Cheating and using first two lines):

Quote:
"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense. And then the murders began."
[I haven't read this book]
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Old 03-08-2017, 01:34 PM
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"In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And then the murders began."
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Old 03-08-2017, 01:36 PM
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"It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. And then the murders began."
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Old 03-08-2017, 01:38 PM
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"All the Whos down in Whoville like Christmas a lot. And then the murders began."
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Old 03-08-2017, 01:39 PM
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"In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And then the murders began."
The two-sentence Bible.


"On those days when the wind stops blowing across the face of the southern plains, the land falls into a silence that scares people in the way that a big house can haunt after the lights go out and no one else is there. And then the murders began."
  #9  
Old 03-08-2017, 01:42 PM
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“Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo. And then the murders began."
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Old 03-08-2017, 01:47 PM
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"Tyler gets me a job as a waiter, after that Tyler's pushing a gun in my mouth and saying, the first step to eternal life is you have to die. And then the murders began."
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Old 03-08-2017, 01:59 PM
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"We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. And then the murders began."
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Old 03-08-2017, 02:08 PM
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"Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. And then the murders began."
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Old 03-08-2017, 02:12 PM
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"Jewel and I come up from the field, following the path in single file. And then them murders began."
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Old 03-08-2017, 02:18 PM
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the sun did not shine.
it was too wet to play.
so we sat in the house
all that cold, cold, wet day.

And then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 02:25 PM
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We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America. And then the murders began.
  #16  
Old 03-08-2017, 02:27 PM
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"It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the house-tops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness. And then the murders began."
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Old 03-08-2017, 02:28 PM
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"In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And then the murders began."
I'm a Christian and I think that is funnier than hell. You win the thread.

Coraline discovered the door a little while after they moved into the house. And then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 02:29 PM
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"I come no more to make you laugh: things now, that bear a weighty and a serious brow, sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, we now present. And then the murders began."
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Old 03-08-2017, 02:32 PM
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Originally Posted by Typo Negative View Post
"Tyler gets me a job as a waiter, after that Tyler's pushing a gun in my mouth and saying, the first step to eternal life is you have to die. And then the murders began."
Quote:
Originally Posted by buddha_david View Post
"We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. And then the murders began."
The two I was teeing up. I didn't think Fight Club would work ... or it would work to well, either way.

Uh, how about (this kind of sums up the book in two sentences too):

"In the week before their departure to Arrakis, when all the final scurrying about had reached a nearly unbearable frenzy, an old crone came to visit the mother of the boy, Paul. And then the murders began."
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Old 03-08-2017, 02:35 PM
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When Chili first came to Miami Beach twelve years ago, they were having one of their off-and-on cold winters; thirty-four degrees the day he met Tommy Carlo for lunch at Vesuvio's on South Collins and had his leather jacket ripped off. And then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 02:44 PM
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"When I was a boy, there was but one permanent ambition among my comrades in our village on the west bank of the Mississippi River." And then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 02:45 PM
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"Where's Papa going with that axe?" said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast. And then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 02:49 PM
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An hour before sunset, on the evening of a day in the beginning of October, 1815, a man travelling afoot entered the little town of D---. And then the murders began.


Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin. And then the murders began.


Howard Roark laughed. And then the murders began.

Last edited by panache45; 03-08-2017 at 02:54 PM.
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Old 03-08-2017, 02:50 PM
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In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. And then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 02:58 PM
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"Oh, bother!" exclaimed Pooh, and then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 03:06 PM
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“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. And then the murders began.”
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Old 03-08-2017, 03:47 PM
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"Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. And then the murders began."
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Old 03-08-2017, 03:53 PM
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When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. And then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 04:13 PM
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Marley was dead: to begin with. And then the murders began.

(Gah, I don't think that one worked very well.)
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Old 03-08-2017, 04:18 PM
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(A two-sentence variation).

Madame Speaker, Vice President Biden, Members of Congress, distinguished guests, and fellow Americans:
Our Constitution declares that from time to time, the President shall give to Congress information about the state of our union. For two hundred and twenty years, our leaders have fulfilled this duty. And then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 04:26 PM
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Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

And then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 04:28 PM
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I have six books within reach of my laptop. Let's do this!


1. "The intertidal zone of the Pacific coast of North America supports an extraordinarily rich assortment of plants and animals. And then the murders began."

2. "I have often wondered - and envied - at the peculiar way Clarence Judson contributed to the study of earthquakes. And then the murders began."

3. "What is space? And then the murders began"

4. "This is how an idea becomes real. And then the murders began."

5. "The fae lord stalked back and forth in his cell of gray stone. And then the murders began."

6. "The griffins came to Feierabiand with the early summer warmth, riding the wind out of the heights down to the tender green pastures of the foothills. And then the murders began."
  #33  
Old 03-08-2017, 04:32 PM
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When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain? And then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 04:39 PM
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When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow. And then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 04:59 PM
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This one works nicely after changing the emphasis a bit:

Ryan was nearly killed twice in hour an hour. And then the murders began.


One there were four children who were named Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy. And then the murders began.

The monitor lady smiled very nicely and tousled his hair and said, "Andrew, I suppose by now you're just absolutely sick of having that horrid monitor." And then the murders began.
  #36  
Old 03-08-2017, 05:10 PM
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“As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a monstrous vermin. And then the murders began."
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Old 03-08-2017, 05:13 PM
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Some non-fiction:


Computers and information technology applications first burst into the business world primarily in the United States and Europe starting in the early 1960s. And then the murders began.

I originally intended a very different book. And then the murders began.

In the world of Microsoft system administration, it is becoming impossible to avoid PowerShell. And then the murders began.

The streets of San Francisco were jammed. And then the murders began.
  #38  
Old 03-08-2017, 05:14 PM
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“As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a monstrous vermin. And then the murders began."
Damn you! I had that line on my clipboard and I was just coming in to post it!

And then the murders began!
  #39  
Old 03-08-2017, 05:17 PM
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"Dr Strauss says I shoud rite down what I think and remembir and evrey thing that happins to me from now on. And then the murdrz began."
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Old 03-08-2017, 05:25 PM
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"Where's Papa going with that axe?" said Fern to her mother as they were setting the table for breakfast. And then the murders began.
This is the thread winner, right here.
  #41  
Old 03-08-2017, 05:28 PM
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Once there was a tree and she loved a little boy. And then the murders began.

Jack Torrance thought: Officious little prick. And then the murders began.
  #42  
Old 03-08-2017, 05:33 PM
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Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote,
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licóur
Of which vertú engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye,
So priketh hem Natúre in hir corages,
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
And specially, from every shires ende
Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende,
The hooly blisful martir for to seke,
That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.

And then the murders began.
  #43  
Old 03-08-2017, 05:37 PM
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"When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide
Where I stop and I turn and I go for a ride
Till I get to the bottom and I see you again.

And then the murders began."
  #44  
Old 03-08-2017, 06:17 PM
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“In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.
"Whenever you feel like criticizing any one," he told me, "just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.”
And then, the murders began.
  #45  
Old 03-08-2017, 06:25 PM
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There was once a boy named Milo who didn't know what to do with himself-- not just sometimes, but always. And then the murders began.
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Old 03-08-2017, 07:07 PM
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I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the scholars of war,
who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,
who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall,
who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,
who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night
with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and endless balls,
incomparable blind streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the motionless world of Time between,
Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops, storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,
who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear light of Zoo,
who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford’s floated out and sat through the stale beer afternoon in desolate Fugazzi’s, listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,
who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,
a lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State out of the moon,
yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,
whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the Synagogue cast on the pavement,
who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall,
suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grindings and migraines of China under junk-withdrawal in Newark’s bleak furnished room,
who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts,
who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing through snow toward lonesome farms in grandfather night,
who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telepathy and bop kabbalah because the cosmos instinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas,
who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking visionary indian angels who were visionary indian angels,
who thought they were only mad when Baltimore gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,
who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Oklahoma on the impulse of winter midnight streetlight smalltown rain,
who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa,
who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago,
who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the FBI in beards and shorts with big pacifist eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out incomprehensible leaflets,
who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,
who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union Square weeping and undressing while the sirens of Los Alamos wailed them down, and wailed down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also wailed,
who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons,
who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight in policecars for committing no crime but their own wild cooking pederasty and intoxication,
who howled on their knees in the subway and were dragged off the roof waving genitals and manuscripts,
who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,
who blew and were blown by those human seraphim, the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love,
who balled in the morning in the evenings in rosegardens and the grass of public parks and cemeteries scattering their semen freely to whomever come who may,
who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath when the blond & naked angel came to pierce them with a sword,
who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar the one eyed shrew that winks out of the womb and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but sit on her ass and snip the intellectual golden threads of the craftsman’s loom,
who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a candle and fell off the bed, and continued along the floor and down the hall and ended fainting on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,
who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning but prepared to sweeten the snatch of the sunrise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked in the lake,
who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these poems, cocksman and Adonis of Denver—joy to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses’ rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely petticoat upliftings & especially secret gas-station solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too,
who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and picked themselves up out of basements hung-over with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemployment offices,
who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the East River to open to a room full of steam-heat and opium,
who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime blue floodlight of the moon & their heads shall be crowned with laurel in oblivion,
who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of Bowery,
who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music,
who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts,
who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates of theology,
who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of gibberish,
who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht & tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom,
who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg,
who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their heads every day for the next decade,
who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccessfully, gave up and were forced to open antique stores where they thought they were growing old and cried,
who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinister intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,
who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually happened and walked away unknown and forgotten into the ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alleyways & firetrucks, not even one free beer,
who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window, jumped in the filthy Passaic, leaped on negroes, cried all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed phonograph records of nostalgic European 1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears and the blast of colossal steamwhistles,
who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to each other’s hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch or Birmingham jazz incarnation,
who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity,
who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,
who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other’s salvation and light and breasts, until the soul illuminated its hair for a second,
who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for impossible criminals with golden heads and the charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet blues to Alcatraz,
who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys or Southern Pacific to the black locomotive or Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the daisychain or grave,
who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hypnotism & were left with their insanity & their hands & a hung jury,
who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism and subsequently presented themselves on the granite steps of the madhouse with shaven heads and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding instantaneous lobotomy,
and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psychotherapy occupational therapy pingpong & amnesia,
who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia,
returning years later truly bald except for a wig of blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible madman doom of the wards of the madtowns of the East,
Pilgrim State’s Rockland’s and Greystone’s foetid halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rocking and rolling in the midnight solitude-bench dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a nightmare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the moon,
with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book flung out of the tenement window, and the last door closed at 4 A.M. and the last telephone slammed at the wall in reply and the last furnished room emptied down to the last piece of mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted on a wire hanger in the closet, and even that imaginary, nothing but a hopeful little bit of hallucination—
ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and now you’re really in the total animal soup of time—
and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use of the ellipsis catalogue a variable measure and the vibrating plane,
who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space through images juxtaposed, and trapped the archangel of the soul between 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness together jumping with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus
to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and stand before you speechless and intelligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head,
the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown, yet putting down here what might be left to say in time come after death,
and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the suffering of America’s naked mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio
with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years. And then the murders began.
  #47  
Old 03-08-2017, 07:09 PM
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Every Who down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot. And then the murders began.
  #48  
Old 03-08-2017, 07:58 PM
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The morning had dawned clear and cold, with a crispness that hinted at the end of summer. And then the murders began.
  #49  
Old 03-08-2017, 09:18 PM
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I had this story from one who had no business to tell it to me, or to any other. And then the murders began.
  #50  
Old 03-08-2017, 09:18 PM
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MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he stayed up all night, was seated at the breakfast table. And then the murders began.

That is the heart of it: Now begin in the middle, and later learn the beginning; the end will take care of itself. And then the murders began.
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