You could sell
your soul for friendship. So
many souls are priced not to sell. The market on souls is small, in
any case, but to charge a Jackson (soon
a Tubman) proves prohibitive.
Check the inventory: souls up to the rafters, gathering dust and
cockroaches. So many of us
valorize its obscurity. The allure of
depth is strong, but a shallow soul would have a bigger audience.
We've pulled soul into academia,
we don't want it in our
free time. Time—not
soul—is free. We giggle in the corner about soul, because it's so
damn earnest. Soul's
an evasion of the important
work of economics. Soul
mansplains. (This
conversation is way too full of dudes.)
Soul says “you're fired!”
then retreats to an inner sanctum outside the range of your GPS.
They'll say they tried
everything and still they
can't sell souls. A self-fulfilling prophecy! He did
buy souls
once in the 1970s, when he
was first starting out. The
mimeo machine sounded like a train. Our
rail project has too
many over-runs. Only soul
still thinks it can.
[based on a fb conversation on Don Share's wall about small-press publishing]
2 comments:
This would be fun if it weren't rather horrifying. Of course I mean rather horrifying in a good & necessary way.
I'm with J. I'd say cut the word "soul" a bunch of times - I think less will be more. "So many of us valorize its obscurity" - so true. I'm thinking, too, of the value of friendship. Worth a soul? - probably, if I only knew what that really meant. "This conversation is way too full of dudes" - almost always the truth.
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