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With Hidden Noise
- University of Pittsburgh Press
- Chapter
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With Hidden Noise I am a teapot and this is my song. I am award winning and this is my song. What genius decided we needed a fire engine now? Maybe I’m a postindustrial bunny and this. . . . Look, big ears, this is MY song and no one needs your rabbity bull around here. I am an exchequer and this is my retinue. No one knows precisely what I do. Where to put the excess of speaking voice? But Professor, there’s too much nitrogen up there for any known life-form to survive! I am the breasts of a starlet and this is my lab coat. Did you say lifeboat? Watch out for the nails coming out the other side. I am a liminal state and this is my program. Misbegotten pang, open your oh. Did you say sleeping voice? We can no more invent ourselves than the ticks of a clock can invent the clock. Are you sure this is the way to go? I am Walt Whitman but so? Everyone’s Walt Whitman. Clouds of unlimited portent. Insert anecdote here. The idea is to get the heart-rate up and sustain it. What happened? shouts the hero rushing into the study room. Mung magph naagh, replies the heroine still in her gag. Insert flap A into slot A. X-rays inconclusive. Want to hear me count to 1,000 by 17s? Beep hexagonal, my puppeteer. I hate your dog. 27 I am a 2–CD set of the world’s greatest arias. No wonder no one gets nothing done. Clearly we need a new filing system. After a while it all sounds the same. Saaaaaaammmmme. Enter Fortinbras. I am your waiter and this is your orchard. This can’t be what I ordered. Next question. Now try it on your own at home. 28 ...