riding and riffing

Reading K Stewart's A Space by the Side of the Road and it's reminding me how much i still like the "new ethnographic" writing; just in the first chapter i find a certain methodology, if you can call it that, valued: eschewing totalizing analysis for a kind of parallel construction of a text or object thru thick description, riffing, parasitism, and mimesis; i find that i fall into this "method" when writing about certain subjects, notable Jewish ones or writing about writing. I question the rigor of this style, which i do see as a style rather than a method, but it is a lot of fun to feel swept up in an engagement with a dialogic, porous object like Alan Sondheim's or Adeena Karasick's work. Or Flarf. At the same time i also find myself, with certain other "assignments," gravitating more toward a plodding attempt at systematic analysis; i'm not esp good at it, but there is a kind of humility in "getting over oneself" that i appreciate and find worth cultivating. but i do like writing an essay on the model of riding a bucking horse, hanging on and describing in breathless adjectival prose that veers into the standstill stoptime of the "poetic" breakneck otherzone whatever one can eke out of a kaleidoscopic textual envelopement, text as chaotic womb, a churning universe of activity and pulsations to be documented by one w/o proper language...blah blah blah. so, where's my writing going? round and round in dusty orbit to create an experience, a spectacle, the bucking bronco whupping my ass every time.

the word of the day is aristotle, who climbed the tower of babel, and married a model, and did they cuddle or what, and bought her baubles, and went full-throttle in the space shuttle. th-th-that's all folks. i can't go on i'll go on and on ... til the break of ...etc