or when Adele H gets her big ream of paper, and begins to bleat.
as in, to never really think things of other things by composing deliberate "argument," but to wait for someone to say the right one, and in the half-pause, half-pounce of recognition, to confess, smarmy yes, that must be what I wanted to convey myself, but could not penetrate enough to get it out, 'til now, that is, in the conversion of inference to evidence, arriving at a stance, a cause. with word, image, to trade in pure impression; for all the mounting bifurcation, impression being our era's ars.
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