Quest for dirt (8/23/95)

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“In our case, if we had now grown serious, it was because each of us was living under the sign of his own fate — not in the shadow of a guardian angel, nor hidden in the folds of his robe, but as if at the feet of his own double which was detaching itself from him little by little to take on a bodily and material form. They were strange projections of ourselves, these new beings, and they absorbed us to the point where we lived them as in a new skin, to the point of complete identity, and our final preparations were not unlike the process of putting finishing touches to these frightful, pride-ridden automata known in magical lore as Teraphim. Like them, we were going to destroy a city ... .”

[Blaise Cendrars: Moravagine. Chapter K.]

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Miller in Hollywood (5/13/95)