The paradoxcycle dilemmena: the langauge theories (gauges more typtopically ordered to put the Four Forcemen of the Antipocolypse (BANG!) into their group theorhetorical cages to prove onceandforall, onallstages fourallayges, the symmetrickly (it’s super!) allelegance and the scaley invariance undoudubitably sphericentral to our infinidismal variexistence) novel is all about rhymerhythm and flow (from swerve of shore to bend of bay), which requires the reader ‘listen’ carefully, meaning quite literally sounding out everything on the page in or out the head. Honestly, it’s a distinct advantage to have engaged in conversation with or to have listened to one or the more the merrier for a significant length of time enough to pick up some idiomatic or colloquial language, to experience the cadence and inf(l)ections and the compoundplexity: the constant fissioning and fusioning of so many of the words we’ve come to know and love forward momentum in the writing: read it on the page hear it in the head
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