Finnegans Wake - James Joyce [81]
Answer: No, blank ye! So you think I have impulsivism? Did they tell you I am one of the fortysixths? And I suppose you heard I had a wag on my ears? And I suppose they told you too that my roll of life is not natural?
But before proceeding to conclusively confute this begging question it would be far fitter for you, if you dare! to hasitate to consult with and consequentially attempt at my disposale of the same dime-cash problem elsewhere naturalistically of course, from the blinkpoint of so eminent a spatialist. From it you will here notice, Schott, upon my for the first remarking you that the sophology of Bitchson while driven as under by a purely dime-dime urge is not without his cashcash characktericksticks, file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
borrowed for its nonce ends from the fiery goodmother Miss Fortune (who the lost time we had the pleasure we have had our little recherch‚
brush with, what, Schott?) and as I further could have told you as brisk as your D.B.C. beha-viouristically paillet‚ with a coat of homoid icing which is in reality only a done by chance ridiculisation of the whoo-whoo and where’s hairs theorics of Winestain. To put it all the more plumbsily. The speechform is a mere sorrogate. Whilst the qua-lity and tality (I shall explex what you ought to mean by this with its proper when and where and why and how in the subsequent sentence) are alternativomentally harrogate and arrogate, as the gates may be. Talis is a word often abused by many passims (I am working out a quantum theory about it for it is really most tantumising state of affairs). A pessim may frequent you to say: Have you been seeing much of Talis and Talis those times? optimately meaning: Will you put up at hree of irish? Or a ladyeater may perhaps have casualised as you temptoed her …
la sourdine: Of your plates? Is Talis de Talis, the swordswallower, who is on at the Craterium the same Talis von Talis, the penscrusher, no funk you ! who runs his duly mile? Or this is a perhaps cleaner example. At a recent postvortex piece infustigation of a determinised case of chronic spinosis an extension lecturer on The Ague who out of matter of form was trying his seesers, Dr’s Het Ubeleeft, borrowed the question: Why’s which Suchman’s talis qualis? to whom, as a fatter of macht, Dr Gedankje of Stoutgirth, who was wiping his whistle, toarsely retoarted: While thou beast’ one zoom of a whorl! (Talis and Talis originally mean the same thing, hit it’s: Qualis.)
Professor Loewy–Brueller (though as I shall promptly prove his whole account of the Sennacherib as distinct from the Shal-manesir sanitational reforms and of the Mr Skekels and Dr Hydes problem in the same connection differs toto coelo from the fruit of my own investigations —
though the reason I went to Jericho must remain for certain reasons a political secret — especially as I shall shortly be wanted in Cavantry, I congratulate myself, for the same and other reasons — as being again hope-lessly vitiated by what I have now resolved to call the dime and cash diamond fallacy) in his talked off confession which recently met with such a leonine uproar on its escape after its confinement Why am I not born like a Gentileman and why am I now so speak-able about my own eatables (Feigenbaumblatt and Father, Juda— pest, 5688, A.M.) wholeheartedly takes off his gabbercoat and wig, honest draughty fellow, in his public interest, to make us see how though, as he says: ‘by Allswill’ the inception and the descent and the endswell of Man is temporarily wrapped in ob-scenity, looking through at these accidents with the faroscope of television, (this nightlife instrument needs still some file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans