the ultimate goal of technology, the telos of techne

I filled up the skin with someone turbid water

However continually he was suffering in his last summer, there was still plenty of time, in the interstices between his identically painful thoughts, to entertain the idea of suicide

if the phenomenology and the teleology of suicidality are the same as that of addiction, it seems fair to say that David died of boredom

The vertiginous point where I turned back in the rain

inveighed against "the Turk" and his "Maltese lackeys"

The roads were modern but heavily divoted, as if it were understood that they would all be torn up again soon anyway.

nestled between a stricly protected montane forest and the bright-blue freshwater expanses of Dong Qian Hu

he instills these locales with a weird kind of Gemütlichkeit.

With three kids to support, he dare not venture down the road of anomie and irony and entropy, the Beat road that Kerouac blazed and Pynchon followed.