Monday, June 30, 2008
Attention Deficit Disorder, Thomas E. Brown, Ph.D., page 312, paragraph 2
I don't mean to say that the thinking and reaching decisions have no influence on behavior. But behavior does not merely enact what has already been thought through and decided. It has is own sources. (p. 342)
Yale University Press, 2005, New Haven, 0-300-10641-6
Sunday, June 29, 2008
A Illustrated Guide to Arizona Weeds, Kittie F. Parker, page 126, paragraph 1
FOUR O'CLOCK FAMILY - nyctaginaceae
Red Spiderling - Boerhaavia coccinea Mill.
DESCRIPTION - A stout perennial with tough, prostrate stems radiating outward from a thick woody root and ascending at the ends, 1 to 6 feet long. The stems, often with sticky yellow bands above, are usually noticeably hairy, especially near the base. The leaves are similar to those of coulter spiderling, and are densely hairy to hairless. Some plants, however, are almost hairless.
The University of Arizona Press, 1972, Tucson, 0-8165-0288-9
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Haiku, Vol IV, Autumn-Winter, R. H. Blyth, page 159, paragraph 3
小便所ここと馬よぶ夜寒かな
Shôbenjo koko to uma yobu yosamu kana
“The latrine is over here,”
Says the horse;
Cold at night.
Hokuseido, 1952, Japan
Friday, June 27, 2008
Little Blues Book, Brian Robertson, page 43, paragraph 1
Johnson's death is attributed to poisoning. The reason for the killing? Johnson's habit of picking out a woman in the audience—single or married—and bit by bit directing each song in her direction, working his slow seduction. It’s said that on one particular night, Jonson’s magic worked so well that a woman’s husband—the bartender—retaliated by giving the bluesman a bottle of whiskey laced with poison.
Algonquin, 1996, Chapel Hill, 1-56512-137-6
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Raiders and Rebels, The Golden Age of Piracy, Frank Sherry, page 241, paragraph 4
Quill, 1986, New York, 0-688-07515-0
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Japanese Homes And Their Surroundings, Edward S. Morse, page 227, paragraph 2
A household shrine to which the children pay voluntary and natural devotion are the birds' nests build within the house. It is a common thing, not only in the country but in large cities like Tokio, for a species of swallow, hardly to be distinguished from the European species, to build its nest in the house, – not in an out of the way place, but in the room where the family may be most actively engaged, or in the shop fronting the street, with all its busy traffic going on. The very common occurrence of these birds' nests in houses is another of the many evidences of the gentle ways of this people, and of the kindness shown by them to animals.
Tuttle, 1972, Rutland, 0-8048-0998-4
Originally published in 1886
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
The Philsophy of Money, Georg Simmel, page 272, paragraph 2
Perhaps we can also express this in the following way. As a purely arithmetical addition of value units, money can be characterized as absolutely formless. Formlessness and a purely quantitative character are one and the same. To the extent that things are considered only in terms of their quantity, their form is disregarded. This is most evident if they are weighed. Therefore, money as such is the most terrible destroyer of form. No matter what the reason is that the specific forms of things a, b and c cost the same price of m, their differentiation – the specific form of each of them – does not affect their fixed value at all but is submerged in the m which equally represents a, b and c. Form is not a determining factor within economic valuation. As soon as our interest is reduced to the money value of objects, their form, – even though it may have brought about their value – becomes irrelevant just as it is irrelevant to their weight. This may also explain the materialism of modern times which, in its theoretical significance, necessarily has a common root in the money economy. Matter as such is simply formless, the counterpart of all form, and if it is accepted as the only principle of reality, reality is submitted to broadly the same process that the reduction money value exercises on the objects of our practical interest. I shall come back to the problem of how money in extraordinarily great quantities – and fundamentally in connection with the threshold importance of money quantities – attains a particular and, at the same time, more individual form, thereby removing it from its empty quantitative nature. The formlessness of money declines relatively and even outwardly the more its quantity increases: the small coins of the earliest Italian copper currency remained shapeless or had only a crude round or cubical form; the biggest pieces, however, were usually cast in a four-sided ingot form and provided with a mark on both sides. But the universal formlessness of money as money is certainly the root of the antagonism between an aesthetic tendency and money interests. Aesthetic interest are so much focused on pure form that, for instance, design was considered to be the primary aesthetic value of all fine arts, because as pure form it can be realized unchanged in any amount of material. This is now known to be an error; indeed, we must go further and admit that the absolute size of a form of art considerably influences its aesthetic significance, and that this significance is readily modified by the very smallest change of dimensions even if the form remains the same. Nevertheless, the aesthetic value of things remains attached to their form, for example to the relations between its elements, although we now know that the character and the effect of the form is essentially co-determined by the amount of its realization. Perhaps it is no coincidence that a great many proverbs, but only a few of the innumerable folk songs, appear to deal with money despite its predominant importance. Thus, when a rebellion broke out owing to a change in coinage, the folk songs generated by the people on this occasion by and large disregarded the coinage problem. The irreconcilable and, for all aesthetic interests, decisive antagonism always remains in th emphasis placed on whether we value things according to their form or ask for the amount of their value. This value is a merely quantitative one which replaces all quality by a mere sum of equal units.
Routledge, 1990, New York, 0-415-04641-6
Monday, June 23, 2008
The World in Miniature, Container Gardens and Dwellings in Far Eastern Religious Thought, Rolf A. Stein, page 58, paragraph 2

The World, a Gourd-Shaped Vessel
The caves that make up a separate paradise are difficult to enter; entrance is by a narrow door. They are closed vessels, with a narrow throat, shaped like a gourd: "One enters by a doorway in the rock, but one cannot enter except by bending down. [Once the narrow passage is passed,] one finds a flat space of more than thirty feet. It is like a heaven [read: perfect world] within a gourd. This is why it is called gourd-heaven [hu-t'ien]" (see Fig. 27).109 The entryway into the cave-heaven (tung-t'ien) of Chin-hua (or Tung-yüan) resembles that of an iron jar; through a narrow neck one enters a cave that then enlarges considerably.110 A separate world and a gourde shaped vessel are two inseparable ideas, even when one of the terms is not expressed (see noe 101 to this part). To the question "May one ask where you live?" one could reply "In a gourd-shaped vessel there is another world" [75].111 These words refer to retreat (chai) in a garden (see Fig. 28). We may recall that the Ch'ang-wu-chih requires that every retreat in the mountain (shan-chai) must have a bowl garden in its courtyard (see note 94 to this part). In the miniature garden sung about by Tin Ho-nien, "sun and moon share their light in this Heaven in [the form of] a hu1 vase.” In the same way, in a description of a bowl garden (bonseki), a Japanese author speaks thus: “If one thinks about this, one finds in it traces [of the site] of the Peach Flower Spring [t’ao-yüan; a heavenly site]….Forgetting the [ordinary] world [shih], the sun shines calmly in the gourd in the heart has this same hiding place.” 112 We should note the relationship expressed between the world in the form of a gourd and the Peach Flower Spring. The heavenly nature of the other world is emphasized by alluding to the celebrated retreat site.
Stanford University Press, 1990, Stanford, 0-8047-1674-9
Sunday, June 22, 2008
The Americans, Photographs By Robert Frank, page 104
Saturday, June 21, 2008
What's What in Japanese Restaurants, Robb Satterwhite, page 143, paragraph 12
Cold Kansai-style pudding
made from kudzu starch
and served with dark syrup
Kodansha, 1988, Japan, 4-7700-2086-4
Friday, June 20, 2008
Auctions, The Social Construction of Value, Charles W. Smith, page 109, paragraph 3
University of California Press, 1990, Berkeley, 0-520-07201-4
Thursday, June 19, 2008
The Return of the Cadavre Exquis, The Drawing Center, page 47, paragraph 2
Whereas Breton's surrealism distills itself into objects—a bowler hat, a biscuit, a woman's glove—Bataille envisions it as an image of diffusion, an excess of energy that obscures containment. He called this the "informe," and ascribed it with the "job" of rendering the formed object, idea, emotion, or sign into a state of formlessness.
Formless is thus not merely an adjective with such and such a meaning but a term for lowering status with its implied requirements that everything have form. Whatever it (formless) designates lacks entitlement in every sense and is crushed on the spot, like a spider or an earthworm.⁸
8. Georges Bataille, quoted in Denis Hollier, Against Architecture, The writings of Georges Bataille, Betsy Wing, trans. (Cambridge Massachusetts: The MIT Press, 1989), p. 30
The Drawing Center, 1993, New York, 0-942324-06-4
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Hopi Dictionary, Hopìikwa Lavàytutuveni, The Hopi Dictionary Project, Emory Sekaquaptewa, page 301, paragraph 18
The University of Arizona Press, 1997, Arizona, 0-8165-1789-4
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
The Folk Arts of Japan, Hugo Munsterberg, Page 128, paragraph 2


More closely related to the Buddhist art of the capital are the popular carvings found in the graveyards and temple compounds of local sanctuaries. The fines of the se are in Nara Prefecture, but similar ones are seen in many parts of Japan. They too are representations of Buddhist gods, but instead of showing obscure deities of folk religion, they are more likely to portray the regular Buddhas and Bodhisattvas (Bosatsu, in Japanese). Characteristic of this type of sculpture are the carving of the Amida Buddha (Plate 84) and the Bodhisatva images found outside of Nara City (Plate 85). The style and iconography obviously reflect that of the sculpture of the great temples of Nara, but the use of stone and the simple strength of the carving is characteristic of this type of folk art. The serene majesty of Amida and the gentle, mysterious expression of the many-armed Bosatsu are well rendered and show the truly religious feeling of many of these works.
Charles E. Tuttle Company, Inc., 1982, Rutland, 0-8048-0190-3
Monday, June 16, 2008
Food Plants of the Sonoran Desert, Wendy C. Hodgson, page 229, paragraph 3

The rather odd-looking fruits of the R. echinocarpa (figs. 140, 141b) also supplied food. The Guarijío, Tarahumara, Ónavas Pima, and Tepehuan gathered the green fruits as they began to ripen in the fall (Gentry 1942; Pennington 1963, 1969, 1980; Altschul 1973; pers. obs.). If the fruits were left on the plants to ripen, "strong-billed birds" and mammals were sure to consume them (Gentry 1942, Martin et al. 1998:431). The black, puddinglike mass has a bittersweet flavor and is full of seeds. Babies were especially fond of the pulp. These groups ate the pulp in large amounts with the seeds, which often caused constipation (H. S. Gentry, pers. comm.). Howard Gentry once ate the fruits for lunch, while in the wilds of Rio Mayo country, having nothing else to eat (Martin et al. 1998). He enjoyed the first fruit, but could not finish the second because the fruits were very filling. Randia echinocarpa (and other members of the genus) fruits are important medicinally, being used to aid digestion and diabetes.
The University of Arizona Press, 2001, Tucson, 0-8165-2060-7
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Guilty of Everything, Herbert Hunke, page 30, paragraphy 1
Hanuman Books, 1987, New York, 0-937815-08-x
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Beyond Reason, Art and Psychosis, Brand-Clausen Jádi & Douglas, page 36, paragraph 6

For Pinal and Tuke, the interest of patient art lay in the act of creation, rather than in the final product, and neither saw fit to reproduce their patients' drawings to accompany their own texts. John Haslam, however, apothecary at the notorious Bethlem hospital in London, may have been the first to reproduce patiend drawings, in his Illustrations of Madness, in 1810. For Haslam the drawings were of diagnostic interest, their reproduction designed to illustrate the insanity of his patient, one James Tilly Matthews. Matthews suffered apparently from the common schizophrenic delusion of persecution and believed that he was being conspired against, and acted against, by a version of the 'influencing machine'. His drawings of the machine, which he termed an 'air-loom' (fig. 1), derive clearly from the mechanical aesthetics of the early industrial age.
University of California Press, 1996, Berkeley, 0-520-21740-3
Friday, June 13, 2008
Power Pricing, Robert J. Dolan, Hermann Simon, page 52, paragraph 1
The Free Press, 1996, New York, 0-684-83443-x
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
The Golden Age of Handbuilt Bicycles, Jan Heine, Jean-Pierre Pradères, page 60, paragraph 1
Vintage Bicycle Press, 2005, Seattle, 097654600-0