Sly Uses

12:16 am

Ok, stoop down here. Don’t mind me, just picking up these racing forms. Figure this out on my own. La la la. So what do we have. Sceptre 5 to 4, Zinfandel 7 to 4, Maximum II 10 to 1. Those are the most likely. Will include least likely, Throwaway 20 to 1 for a control. A throwaway. So. Ok. Draw a circle, homogeneous non-differentiated space. Divide into duality in order to create. Division within unity. Now. Center is O and radius OA=1. Diameters AA’ and BB’ at right angles and with centers on diameter BB’ draw two circles. Ok, each with a radius half that of original circle. Yup. From point A swing an arc NM tangent to circumferences of the two inner circles. Repeat from point A’. Construct square ACB’O from the radius of the original circle. That’s the racetrack. Good. Ok. The arc of the semi-diagonal of the square and the radius AE of the arc NEM is Φ and the arcs NEM and NDM divide the radii AO and A’O into the golden division of 1/Φ and 1/Φ². Hum. Paradox now. Divide a circle into a yin yang like that and the circumferences of the inner circles are equal to that of the larger circle but the area within them is only half that of the original circle. One has become two. So Zinfandel? Not Maximum II. That seems out. A unity becomes a duality. Homogeneity becomes polarized. Separated. Jockey falls off? Which one? Mutually repellent forms arise from a common source. Well that’s life. And that sounds like Zinfandel to me. The pentahedron to the cube, the heptahedron to the cube, the decahedron to the unity. The icosahedron to the unity. Hm. So now, construct a square equal in area to the original circle. If only pi were 3.17, then it would be Maximum II and what a payoff! But have to base this on reality. So. So. Φ²= 1+r2 and r = √Φ-1 and r = √Φ and the circumference equals 2∏√Φ with √Φ=1.272. . . and ∏=three point one four one five nine do da do da, so, hm. If the perimeter of the square is approximately 8. But I don’t want approximates. Then, well. This isn’t very mathematically exact. A bit like throwing money into a hurricane. But it looks like Sceptre. That’s just where it’s shaking out. I can feel it in the numbers. My money, all of it, on Scepter. Respect. A dead cert.

In my childhood I have seen old men who, for long periods of time, would hide in the latrines with some metal disks in a forbidden dice cup and feebly mimic the divine disorder. 10:18 am

Show us a minute. Bantom Lyons materiallized as if from nowhere and said this with his hand. Show us a minute. I gave him my newspaper. Tried anyway, to get rid of him. Show us a minute? Look at the sun, it moves by its own radius every minute. That’s if you can see the sun which we cannot. Not in this town. There’s no telling a minute under these clouds. And you shouldn’t look directly into the sun. Maximum the second. That’s what Bantom Lyons’ yellow blacknailed fingers said next. I suppose the inability to see a minute would maximize the second. Stretch the moment; make it plastic. It’s what we have to work with. Can’t add anything to it. Better to think of the second instead of the minute. Lyons has some bad dandruff. His head just under my nose. He is Irish. Decended from the lost tribe that never went back. Going to throwaway his money on a horse race. I must have said something because he suddenly looked at me, said he’d risk it, and took off toward Conway’s. God speed and get the fuck out.