Having my way with Ulysses

A star I see. Venus?

Say them all but tell them apart, cadenzando coloratura! R is Rubretta and A is Arancia, Y is for Yilla and N for greeneriN. B is Boyblue with odalisque O while W waters the fleurettes of novembrance. Though they're all but merely a schoolgirl yet these way went they. I' th' view o' th'avignue dancing goes entrancing roundly. 8:53 pm

[Scene:  Rehearsal for Circe.  Venus dressed as a heliotrope in furs is practicing the Dance of the Hours with the  Roygbiv Vance dancers: Rose, Sevilla, Citronelle, Esmeralde, Pervinca, Indra, and Viola.  The director is perched in the upstage grid and the stage manager and asm are in the booth. The nobleman, McIntosh, the newsboys, a hag carrying a bottle and Grace Darling are waiting stage right to rehearse their number: “O by the by that Lotion”]

God [On the god mic.  Always on the damn god mic.  Does he really need the entire house to hear him?  Really?]  I know the sun sets in the west Venus, I was the one who put it there in the first place!

Venus:  The hell you were!

God:  Nevermind the direction, this is theatre!  Our business is illusion.  We are representing truth, not telling it.  Who bloody cares if the sun is setting in the Southeast?

Venus:  I do! I need to absorb all the reality I can so my instrument can feel the very atmosphere of the scene.  How can I do that if you move the sun to the wrong place?

God: Look, you think it’s easy to move the sun around?  My joints are on the rack!

Jesus:  Dad?  Those distant hills seem coming nigh.

God:  I know, they needed to be closer for this scene.  Ignore them, the’ll stop soon.

Venus:  Listen God, I need the light to set in the west: it is a kind of reassuring.  I can’t.  I can’t work like this.

[A feather falls slowly from the grid, lands on Venus’ head.  She bursts into tears.]

Venus:  [Addressing the bird in the grid]  Thanks.  You’ve always brought me such peace.  You really are a promise of hope to me.  The girls too.  Sorry I got your names mixed up Indra, Viola.

Viola:  Don’t worry about it love.  Shall we go again?

McIntosh:  Do already!  The corns on my kismet are killing me!

Venus:  Who is that guy?

God: Jesus?

Jesus: Nobody knows, he just showed up.  Wait.  Where did he go?  Doesn’t he know it’s damn frustrating when people appear and disappear just like that!

God:  Never mind him, he was probably just a mirage.  Now Venus, the director wants you to practice in front of a mirror, hold his feather while you do it if it helps you.

Venus:  There’s no way I can do that.  I don’t want to see myself, that would shatter the reality I’m creating.

God: It’s hard I know, but still you learn something.  We all could stand to see ourselves as other see us. That’s the way to find out.  See yourself, scowl or smile, then ask yourself, who am I now?  Will you try it?

Venus:  Can I do it naked?

God: So long as women don’t mock what matter?

Blimey it makes me kind of bleeding cry, straight, it does.

Then they all got blind dhrunk - which complated their bliss, And we keep up the practice from that day to this.Seventeen o’clock

On the first day of June it was some people say,
That old Bloom got a check for some work it was pay.
He bought for dear Molly garters violet and fair
But that fat heap he married hrumphed “why just one pair?!”
Well now Bloom he does try, and mistakes will be made,
But do we blame poor old Poldy for plans poorly laid?
My dear Mrs. Marion, ’tis only too true
Your man is in peril, mocked, scorned, and he’s blue!
 
 
You don’t grasp my point, what I’m meaning is thus:
While Molly’s post-coital, Bloom’s making a fuss.
He’s stirring up trouble, poking giants in eyes
Will it end well for Poldy? There’ll be no surprise.
While he longs for his Molly (though soon visits another)
Foes want to harm him, beat, hang, maim, and smother!
They’ll string him from tree limbs! They’ll maul him I swear!
They’ll brain him with biscuit tins flying through air!
 
 
Now please don’t be fightin’ for this or for thine,
Don’t be so dividin’, come on let’s combine!
Molly, he gave you lone garters ’tis true,
But he brought you face lotion and four handkerchiefs too
He’ll bring you more lotion if he remembers besides
But poor Poldy’s hit bottom and downward he slides.
Treat him gently, with kindness, bring him breakfast and treats.
And for Christ’s sake, Madam Molly, at least wash the sheets!
 

A warm human plumpness settled down on his brain.

Agh! Watch out heart attack, pop more angina pills order a plate of Bratwurst, fried frankfurters,couple billion Wimpys', MacDonald burger to the moon & burp! Salt on those fries! Boil onions & breaded mushrooms even zucchini in deep hot Crisco pans Turkeys die only once, look nice, next to tall white glasses sugarmilk & icecream vanilla balls Strawberrry for sweeter color milkshakes with hot dogs Forget greenbeans, everyday a few carrots, a mini big spoonful of salty rice'll do, make the plate pretty1:40 pm

Funny the way she says things.  Wuz nc & all teh bfls wer out.  Saw one today with white stockings, dressing lingerie shop window.  Naked mannequins with sale signs, pinning on garters, flimsy silks.  All in red.  Thick feet she had.  Hope they get mucked by the rain.  Need to get a pincushion for Molly.  Might not like that though, throws away the black headed ones too.  Superstitions.  Get pricked by a pin and lose your lover.  Sleep with two pins crossed under your pillow.  Not sure why.  Sharp things cut lo.  Never hand a pin to somebody point first.  Nice red things they had there.  For Molly.  For women.   All for a woman.  Home and houses, the wealth of the world for them.  Molly.  Molly’s skin.  Must get her lotion.  Warm full perfumed.  Kissed, yielded, tangled, trembling breath.  For them.  For her.  Men.  Men, men, men.  See the animals feed.  Pungent meatjuice.  Swilling, wolfing gobfulls.  Bulging eyes.  Stink of manpiss and sweat.  Am I like that?  I can’t see myself like that.  Is that how others see me?  Watch me eat.  Ramming down knifefulls, sticky, masticating chewchawchew.  Spitting back the gristle.  Shoveling into my gullet.  Chump chop lick the plate.  Eat or be eaten and choke to death on a salmon bone, bite off more than I can chew, and kill!  Kill!  I hate dirty eaters.

How goes the time?

penteplenty of pity with lubilashings of lust for Olona Lena Magdalena 10:16 am

Quarter after.  What is quarter of?  I’ve never understood that one.  Quarter of, is it before or after?  Whatever.  Why quibble over a preposition, there is no before or after.  Time enough yet.  Always time.  Where is this?  Ah yes, the last time.  That’s where.  Wait.  Have to go for Molly’s lotion.  When did I get it last?  No prescription.  Alchemist can look it up.

[The shop door rings as Bloom enters.  A toothache he had been experiencing is suddenly cured]

Mary Magdalene: Can I help you?

Bloom:  Yes, a shrunken skull, the philosopher’s stone, a lemony soap, and a refill of a prescription lotion for Molly Bloom.

Mary Magdalene:  Is she in our system?

Bloom:  [with a drugged mental excitement] Yes.

Mary Magdalene:  And you could use a cure for that dandruff.

Bloom:  Not for me.  Do you mean me?

Mary Magdalene: [Mixing ingredients in an alabaster jar]  No of course not.  Let’s see, need to rinse scalp with a little laurel and green tea steeped in distilled water.  Any allergies?

Bloom: Bee stings, so please not an electuary.  Can’t be too careful.

[Mary Magdalene hands Bloom the jar then whacks him across the face]

Bloom:  [With obvious pleasure] Why?

Mary Magdalene:  In case of reaction.  Want to be careful.  Anything else?  Having trouble sleeping?  Maybe some chloroform?  Laudanum?  How about a nice love philtre?

Bloom:  Does it constipate?

Mary Magdalene:  Clogs the pores.  Or the phlegm rather.

Bloom:  Can you mix it into Molly’s lotion?

Mary Magdalene:  Ah yes.  A remedy where you least expect it.  That’s the acid test.

Bloom: [Coyly] I’ll come for it later.  You know, you ought to physic yourself a bit.

Mary Magdalene: [flirtatiously]  And gradually change my character?  You have a bit of pluck!  Now as for Molly’s lotion, tell her she wants to be careful.  Too much and she will experience a lifetime in a night.

Bloom: [Exiting, inhaling slowly the keen reek of drugs]  Yes.  I said yes.  I will.  Yes.