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@@ -700,9 +700,9 @@ The offramps of a highway are also the p\e{lac}es where the CAR can drive its le
 \enditems
 \noindent Even the \e{tire} finds its tracks in John MacIn\e{tire}, Jaime \e{Tire}lli, or Macin\e{tyre} Dixon while its anagrammatization seeps into Fred As\e{t}a\e{ire}, Marlene D\e{ietr}ich Thelma R\e{it}t\e{er}, Barbra S\e{trei}sand (for someone as addicted to producing "tire tracks" or "grooves," such a name seems perfect with the "natural fitness of names"), Shelley W\e{i}n\{ter}s, John \e{Rit}t\e{e}r, and \e{tire}'s extensions into: Patricia \e{Wheel}, Mark \e{Wheel}er, Eddie \e{Firestone} and the improbable conjunction of the Ernie \e{Flatt} Dancers. Every car has to \e{burn} oil and so do stars, as do George \e{Burns}, Audrey Hep\e{burn}, Katharine Hep\e{burn}, Mike \e{Burns}, Gene Ray\e{burn}, Carol \e{Burn}ett, whereas the \e{bu}r in \e{burn} is echoed in Billie \e{Bur}ke, Ellen \e{Bur}styn, Richard \e{Bur}ton and the burning of a \e{pyre} in Richard \e{Pry}or/\e{Pyr}or. Oil helps that burning and so its anagrams help the careers of the following celebrities (there's a Chevrolet model called the "\e{Cel}ebrity™): \e{Lo}u\e{i}s Armstrong, \e{Lo}u\e{i}se Brooks, G\e{lo}r\e{i}a De Haven, G\e{lo}r\e{i}a Swanson (\e{Gloria} is an anagram for \e{oil rag}), \e{Oli}via De Haviland (\e{via oil} for \e{Olivia}), G\e{ol}d\e{i}e Hawn, Laurence \e{Oli}vier.  These tires \e{car}ve the strangest incisions and skid down all sorts of detours and out-of-the-way trails.
 
-Perusing my \booktitle{Great American Movie Book}, which lists over 1,500 performers, I found many names of drivers, chauffeurs and the like with the CAR embedded in their names. These people are the \e{true} actors since they fulfill the allegorical function so well, they act \e{and} drive down films \e{or} roads. The drivers are as follows: Francis \e{Ford} (In \filmtitle{Old Chicago}), \e{Jer}ry Lewis (a "mad driver" in \filmtitle{It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World}). Billy \e{Cur}tis (\filmtitle{My Gal Sal}, a midget driver), Sol \e{Gor}ss and \e{Char}les Sullivan (\filmtitle{They Drive by Night}), Max \e{Wagner} (echoing \e{wagon}, again \filmtitle{They Drive by Night}), \e{Ford} Dunhill (\filmtitle{Viva Las Vegas}), John Pi\e{kar}d (\filmtitle{Wake of the Red Witch}). The taxi drivers, more numerous, have not had the privilege of Robert de Niro, and unlike him oftentimes cryptically embed CAR in their names: Dick \e{Cro}ckett (\ft{Breakfast at Tiffany's}), Donald \e{Kerr} (\ft{Detective Story}), \{Geor}ge Davis (\ft{Gentlemen Prefer Blondes}), Kit \e{Guar}d (\ft{Here Come the Waves}), Peter F\e{alk} and Leo \e{Gor}cy (\ft{It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World}), Jack \e{Car}r (\ft{The More the Merrier}), Lloyd In\e{gra}ham (\ft{Mr. Lucky}), \e{Arch} Johnson (\ft{Niagara}), Mushy \{Cal}lahan (\dt{The Nutty Professor}), \e{Geor}ge Davis (\ft{One Hour With You}), \e{Geor}ge Chandler (\ft{Since You Went Away}), \e{Charl}es Hall (\ft{Swing Time}), Connie \e{Gilchri}st (\ft{Thousands Cheer}, two cryptophors, \e{Gil} and \e{chri}), Pedro \e{Reg}as (\filmtitle{Waikiki Wedding}, not to mention the \e{gas} at the end of Re\e{gas}), \e{Gar}ry Owen (\ft{Watch on the Rhine}). Not as numerous as cab drivers, the chauffeurs go as follows: \e{Reg}inald Farmer (\ft{Car Wash}), Billy \e{Way}ne (\ft{Dangerous}, the \e{way} is significant), Bud \{Gear}y (\ft{Dead End}, \e{Gear} is also identical with the \e{gear}shift), M\e{org}an Wallace (\ft{Grand Hotel}), James \e{Cro}mwell (\ft{Murder by Death} and his name was Mar\{cel}), \e{Char}les La Torre (\ft{Three Coins in the Fountain}), \e{Cre}ighton Hale (\ft{Watch on the Rhine}). There are several truck drivers: Fred \e{Gra}ham (\ft{The Asphalt Jungle}), Max \e{Wagner} (\ft{Black Legion}, echoing \e{wagon}), \e{Char}les Sullivan (\ft{Easy to Wed}, notice the \e{van}), Bobby Mc\e{Gri}ff (\ft{The Last Picture Show}), Boyd (Red) M\e{org}an (\ft{Pillow Talk}), \e{Cle}gg Hoyt (\ft{That Touch of Mink}), \e{Way}ne Hazelhurst (\ft{Up in Smoke}). Stage drivers, so frequent in Westerns, still permute CAR even though they drive more antique vehicles: \e{Cli}ff \e{Cla}rk (\ft{Fort Apache}, also \ft{Clark}), Bud Mc\e{Clu}re (\ft{Destry Rides Again}), Poodles Hanne\e{ford} (\ft{San Antonio}), Jennings \e{Miles} (how many miles did he travel in \ft{Winchester '73}?). Motorcycle cops, aptly eulogized in the TV series \tvtitle{Chips}, evoke CAR despite their cy\e{cles} being miniature versions of the former: Tom \e{Gre}en\e{way} (the echo of CAR and the crucial \e{way} in \ft{How to Marry a Millionaire}), \e{Gar}ry Owen (\ft{Notorious}).  One bus driver, \e{Char}les \e{Jor}dan (\ft{Cat People}), and one ambulance driver, Fred \e{Gra}ham (\ft{No Way Out}), are the only other drivers in a vast repertoire of actors who must have had to acquire drivers licenses to act in all those films or roads. Incidentally, E\e{ric}h von Stroheim, the chauffeur in \f{Sunset Boulevard}, did not know how to drive, "which humiliated him" (\fb{Swanson on Swanson}), so the Isotta Fraschini was pulled by "ropes the whole while."
+Perusing my \booktitle{Great American Movie Book}, which lists over 1,500 performers, I found many names of drivers, chauffeurs and the like with the CAR embedded in their names. These people are the \e{true} actors since they fulfill the allegorical function so well, they act \e{and} drive down films \e{or} roads. The drivers are as follows: Francis \e{Ford} (In \filmtitle{Old Chicago}), \e{Jer}ry Lewis (a "mad driver" in \filmtitle{It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World}). Billy \e{Cur}tis (\filmtitle{My Gal Sal}, a midget driver), Sol \e{Gor}ss and \e{Char}les Sullivan (\filmtitle{They Drive by Night}), Max \e{Wagner} (echoing \e{wagon}, again \filmtitle{They Drive by Night}), \e{Ford} Dunhill (\filmtitle{Viva Las Vegas}), John Pi\e{kar}d (\filmtitle{Wake of the Red Witch}). The taxi drivers, more numerous, have not had the privilege of Robert de Niro, and unlike him oftentimes cryptically embed CAR in their names: Dick \e{Cro}ckett (\filmtitle{Breakfast at Tiffany's}), Donald \e{Kerr} (\ft{Detective Story}), \{Geor}ge Davis (\ft{Gentlemen Prefer Blondes}), Kit \e{Guar}d (\ft{Here Come the Waves}), Peter F\e{alk} and Leo \e{Gor}cy (\ft{It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World}), Jack \e{Car}r (\ft{The More the Merrier}), Lloyd In\e{gra}ham (\ft{Mr. Lucky}), \e{Arch} Johnson (\ft{Niagara}), Mushy \{Cal}lahan (\dt{The Nutty Professor}), \e{Geor}ge Davis (\ft{One Hour With You}), \e{Geor}ge Chandler (\ft{Since You Went Away}), \e{Charl}es Hall (\ft{Swing Time}), Connie \e{Gilchri}st (\ft{Thousands Cheer}, two cryptophors, \e{Gil} and \e{chri}), Pedro \e{Reg}as (\filmtitle{Waikiki Wedding}, not to mention the \e{gas} at the end of Re\e{gas}), \e{Gar}ry Owen (\ft{Watch on the Rhine}). Not as numerous as cab drivers, the chauffeurs go as follows: \e{Reg}inald Farmer (\ft{Car Wash}), Billy \e{Way}ne (\ft{Dangerous}, the \e{way} is significant), Bud \{Gear}y (\ft{Dead End}, \e{Gear} is also identical with the \e{gear}shift), M\e{org}an Wallace (\ft{Grand Hotel}), James \e{Cro}mwell (\ft{Murder by Death} and his name was Mar\{cel}), \e{Char}les La Torre (\ft{Three Coins in the Fountain}), \e{Cre}ighton Hale (\ft{Watch on the Rhine}). There are several truck drivers: Fred \e{Gra}ham (\ft{The Asphalt Jungle}), Max \e{Wagner} (\ft{Black Legion}, echoing \e{wagon}), \e{Char}les Sullivan (\ft{Easy to Wed}, notice the \e{van}), Bobby Mc\e{Gri}ff (\ft{The Last Picture Show}), Boyd (Red) M\e{org}an (\ft{Pillow Talk}), \e{Cle}gg Hoyt (\ft{That Touch of Mink}), \e{Way}ne Hazelhurst (\ft{Up in Smoke}). Stage drivers, so frequent in Westerns, still permute CAR even though they drive more antique vehicles: \e{Cli}ff \e{Cla}rk (\ft{Fort Apache}, also \ft{Clark}), Bud Mc\e{Clu}re (\ft{Destry Rides Again}), Poodles Hanne\e{ford} (\ft{San Antonio}), Jennings \e{Miles} (how many miles did he travel in \ft{Winchester '73}?). Motorcycle cops, aptly eulogized in the TV series \tvtitle{Chips}, evoke CAR despite their cy\e{cles} being miniature versions of the former: Tom \e{Gre}en\e{way} (the echo of CAR and the crucial \e{way} in \ft{How to Marry a Millionaire}), \e{Gar}ry Owen (\ft{Notorious}).  One bus driver, \e{Char}les \e{Jor}dan (\ft{Cat People}), and one ambulance driver, Fred \e{Gra}ham (\ft{No Way Out}), are the only other drivers in a vast repertoire of actors who must have had to acquire drivers licenses to act in all those films or roads. Incidentally, E\e{ric}h von Stroheim, the chauffeur in \f{Sunset Boulevard}, did not know how to drive, "which humiliated him" (\fb{Swanson on Swanson}), so the Isotta Fraschini was pulled by "ropes the whole while."
 
-At times the Cratylitic limits traverse into the oddest of conjunctions. \e{Gar}ret Morris stars as \e{"Wheels"} in a TV show called \tvtitle{Roll Out}, his acting a mimicry of his names?  In \filmtitle{Cool Hand Luke}, where the \e{Cool} and \e{Luke} both echo the CAR, \e{Cli}fton James is named "\e{Car}r." The perfect name for a star, according to this method of the anagrammatic cryptophor of CAR, is \e{Clu Gallagher}, since the \e{Clu} echoes CAR, as well as \e{Gal}, as well as \e{lag}, as well as \{gher}, a repetition of CAR made four times within the entire sequence of letters of this proper name. \ft{Tea and Sympathy} stars Deborah \e{Kerr} and John \e{Kerr}. The one piece of visual information I have from this film is both Kerr's in a tender emb\e{race}. James Dean, a "car" if ever there was one (he was fond of racing and died in a car crash), starred in \ft{East of Eden} and was called "Cal," a perfect respelling of CAR, \e{l} being \e{r}'s substitute. The drama was set in the state of \e{Cal}ifornia, land no doubt of many cars and stars. Jayne Mansfield's decapitation in a car accident represents a perfect al\e{legor}y of cinema, all those "\e{cro}pped" heads within the frames of cameras had their \e{gri}sly equivalent in her specta\e{cul}ar death, when always already CAR inhabits the \e{ca}me\e{r}a.
+At times the Cratylitic limits traverse into the oddest of conjunctions. \e{Gar}ret Morris stars as \e{"Wheels"} in a TV show called \tvtitle{Roll Out}, his acting a mimicry of his names?  In \filmtitle{Cool Hand Luke}, where the \e{Cool} and \e{Luke} both echo the CAR, \e{Cli}fton James is named "\e{Car}r." The perfect name for a star, according to this method of the anagrammatic cryptophor of CAR, is \e{Clu Gallagher}, since the \e{Clu} echoes CAR, as well as \e{Gal}, as well as \e{lag}, as well as \{gher}, a repetition of CAR made four times within the entire sequence of letters of this proper name. \filmtitle{Tea and Sympathy} stars Deborah \e{Kerr} and John \e{Kerr}. The one piece of visual information I have from this film is both Kerr's in a tender emb\e{race}. James Dean, a "car" if ever there was one (he was fond of racing and died in a car crash), starred in \ft{East of Eden} and was called "Cal," a perfect respelling of CAR, \e{l} being \e{r}'s substitute. The drama was set in the state of \e{Cal}ifornia, land no doubt of many cars and stars. Jayne Mansfield's decapitation in a car accident represents a perfect al\e{legor}y of cinema, all those "\e{cro}pped" heads within the frames of cameras had their \e{gri}sly equivalent in her specta\e{cul}ar death, when always already CAR inhabits the \e{ca}me\e{r}a.
 
 Not wanting to swerve too far from our subject, the CAR and all its permutations, the names of stars are also based in part on the mimicry of the word AMERICA.  America, besides containing CAR, also contains the crucial words ARM, MAR, RAM, etc. The proliferation of Norma, Mary, Roman, La Mar, Morgan, Mark, Norman, Marilyn mimic the first four letters of \e{Amer}ica. A psychoanalysis of Hollywood must begin with the letters of America within the letters of a star's name. After all, stars are only letters: what else are empty spaces filled up with? Letters/ letster/letstar. Picking a star's name is a precise ritual that follows from several sources: 1) mimicry of CAR; 2) mimicry of synonyms/metonyms of ROADS; 3) mimicry of AMERica; 4) mimicry of STAR; 5) mimcry of synonyms/ metonyms of EYES and EARS (the two drives involved in the perception of films): 6) mimicry of I or JE; In the 1937 version of \fr{A Star is Born}, Esther Blodgett becomes Vicki Le\e{ster}, a repetition of STAR.
 
@@ -716,9 +716,9 @@ A milder substance, coffee, is also what those truckers quaff when they stop for
 
 Even if the ac\e{cel}erating \e{cel}ebrity were to be actually driving, loaded with drugs as their cars are loaded with oil, the possibility for them to suffer another crash in\{cre}ases the density of the allegorical scheme onto another level.  The star/car that acts/drives down films/roads now meets its rhetorical inversion: \e{peripeteia}, the reversal of fortune, the "sudden-unexpected reversal of the action in an opposite (unfortunate) direction." (Lausberg) Peripeteia's compliment, \e{anagnorismos}, is a "sudden process of recognition that proceeds from a change of direction of the course of action." The simplest example of peripeteia is from Aristotle's \e{Poetics:} "\ld as it is for instance in Oedipus: here the opposite state of things is produced by the Messenger, who, coming to gladden Oedipus and to remove his fears as to his mother, reveals the secret of his birth." The light said "go" and when we drove on, another car came upon our left, smashed it, injured our flesh and hospitalized us.  Our lives changed in different degrees of intensity from that point onward. Car accidents, as well as the "pitfalls" of success (peripeteia is etymologically related to fall, \e{piptein}), reverse the ascension into Glory into the descent into obscurity, the same peripeteia or Fall that met Adam and Eve when God expulsed them from Paradise.
 
-Tragedy's most powerful clements are its Peripeties and Discoveries, so says Aristotle. Epic poetry also "requires Peripeties, Discoveries, and scenes of suffering just like Tragedy." So \e{the} American Tragedy is the car that didn't go, it stopped too soon, it went off at the wrong time, it turncd up the wrong street (as did Joe Gillis's in \ft{Sunset Boulevard}) and no doubt its other failures along life's journeys. Drinking and driving don't mix (carousing), otherwise the incompatible activities will perform what everyone knows is an ambiguity in the phrase "falling star." The Great Crash of 1929 was also a "sudden or unexpected reversal of circumstances or situation" of the Roaring Twenties when another reversal of fortune took place, the emergence of the talkies after a decade of silent films. The next decade, the Depression, reversed the mythologies of quick success into the realities of nagging poverty, something that could take place at any time knowing the capriciousness of capital, which, like any text we read, gives us no idea as to what it's up to. Missing an exit sign (the "change in direction") and its Discovery by reversing one's tracks, as on our interstate freeways, resembles rereading an entire passage from a novel because we didn't discover $X$ was married to $Y$. Going forward, and remaining \e{there}, however contradictory that sounds, is \e{the} dilemma that besets those success stories who have been "driving" or "smooth sailing" all along and are now faced with the problems of maintaining their former speeds. The Allegorical Car encounters the Careening Peripeteia. Hopefully the victim will come to his senses and recognize or discover the means to change direction.
+Tragedy's most powerful clements are its Peripeties and Discoveries, so says Aristotle. Epic poetry also "requires Peripeties, Discoveries, and scenes of suffering just like Tragedy." So \e{the} American Tragedy is the car that didn't go, it stopped too soon, it went off at the wrong time, it turncd up the wrong street (as did Joe Gillis's in \filmtitle{Sunset Boulevard}) and no doubt its other failures along life's journeys. Drinking and driving don't mix (carousing), otherwise the incompatible activities will perform what everyone knows is an ambiguity in the phrase "falling star." The Great Crash of 1929 was also a "sudden or unexpected reversal of circumstances or situation" of the Roaring Twenties when another reversal of fortune took place, the emergence of the talkies after a decade of silent films. The next decade, the Depression, reversed the mythologies of quick success into the realities of nagging poverty, something that could take place at any time knowing the capriciousness of capital, which, like any text we read, gives us no idea as to what it's up to. Missing an exit sign (the "change in direction") and its Discovery by reversing one's tracks, as on our interstate freeways, resembles rereading an entire passage from a novel because we didn't discover $X$ was married to $Y$. Going forward, and remaining \e{there}, however contradictory that sounds, is \e{the} dilemma that besets those success stories who have been "driving" or "smooth sailing" all along and are now faced with the problems of maintaining their former speeds. The Allegorical Car encounters the Careening Peripeteia. Hopefully the victim will come to his senses and recognize or discover the means to change direction.
 
-The peripeteia is sudden, unexpected. Right away, in the dictionary, even with words whose initial three letters spell CAR, we find the series \e{careen}, \e{career}, \e{carefree}, \e{careful} and \e{careless} follow each other nearly one after the other. This purely lexigraphic coincidence, this succession of antonyms, can engender the following sentence: to careen from the career shows that one was carefree, not careful, in fact, careless. Their swift contiguity merely duplicates the suddenness of inattention and its tragic reversals, the brief moment when one isn't watching and \e{careful} swerves into \e{careless}, letting the \e{career careen}. There's also \bt{Webster's} definition of \e{carry on}: "1) to behave in a foolish, excited, or improper manner; 2) to continue one's course or activity in spite of hindrance or discouragement." Two antithetical meanings exist in the same word, for the Car's uninterrupted course, its \e{carrying on} (continuance) will not, pardon the expression, be carried off (realized) because one \e{carried on} (acted foolishly). Further, the \booktitle{Oxford English Dictionary} right after the noun "car" ("a wheeled vehicle or conveyance") lists an adjective, "car," meaning: "a. left, sinister; commonly in car-hand, car-handed. b.  awkward; perverse; wrong; sinister." It mentions a proverb, "You'll go a car gate yet." If the \e{car} is to stay on course it musn't go in a \e{car} direction. Here the metaphor "left or right" coerces as intensely as "to kill or not to kill," for if the car direction is kept, you might get killed. Driving in a car- or left-handed lane can be as dangerous as driving in a right-handed lane depending on what country you're driving in. The right course for the car is met up with the wrong or car course. The "fiery carre" of the sun will always travel east to west and never in a car direction.
+The peripeteia is sudden, unexpected. Right away, in the dictionary, even with words whose initial three letters spell CAR, we find the series \e{careen}, \e{career}, \e{carefree}, \e{careful} and \e{careless} follow each other nearly one after the other. This purely lexigraphic coincidence, this succession of antonyms, can engender the following sentence: to careen from the career shows that one was carefree, not careful, in fact, careless. Their swift contiguity merely duplicates the suddenness of inattention and its tragic reversals, the brief moment when one isn't watching and \e{careful} swerves into \e{careless}, letting the \e{career careen}. There's also \booktitle{Webster's} definition of \e{carry on}: "1) to behave in a foolish, excited, or improper manner; 2) to continue one's course or activity in spite of hindrance or discouragement." Two antithetical meanings exist in the same word, for the Car's uninterrupted course, its \e{carrying on} (continuance) will not, pardon the expression, be carried off (realized) because one \e{carried on} (acted foolishly). Further, the \booktitle{Oxford English Dictionary} right after the noun "car" ("a wheeled vehicle or conveyance") lists an adjective, "car," meaning: "a. left, sinister; commonly in car-hand, car-handed. b.  awkward; perverse; wrong; sinister." It mentions a proverb, "You'll go a car gate yet." If the \e{car} is to stay on course it musn't go in a \e{car} direction. Here the metaphor "left or right" coerces as intensely as "to kill or not to kill," for if the car direction is kept, you might get killed. Driving in a car- or left-handed lane can be as dangerous as driving in a right-handed lane depending on what country you're driving in. The right course for the car is met up with the wrong or car course. The "fiery carre" of the sun will always travel east to west and never in a car direction.
 
 The \e{ca} in \e{car} is an echo of \e{go}. (And an echo of \e{go} is in e\e{cho.}) The \e{ca}(r) must \e{go}. Another ambiguity: the car \e{must go}, 1) either it goes forward, in its fated direction, 2) or it gets discarded, thrown away. Of course it can "go backward" in order to "go away." Forward or backward, on course or reversed, car or right, all are contingent upon "going" in whatever direction. Verbs that convey movement enact the same transitivity of their referents. A movement of the eyes, reading, requires a registration of the word "movement." When "movement" disappears, we move on. We don't read in a car direction but just to the \e{right}. Here the homonym with \e{write} is a mysterious \e{rite} in our culture's habits of \e{right}-oriented eye movement while reading and in its bearing to the \e{right} lane while driving.  But then as intense as the metaphor is, we veer left while reading only to stay on course to the right. In a car we may sit to the left, but we hug the right. We may choose the Left (whose version of history is a peripeteia of capitalism by means of revolution) or the Right who oftentimes only distinguish themselves when they \e{right} social order as they \e{write} out or supress the Left. Maybe the reason why a communist revolution in America will fail is because everyone has to drive on the right. Bearing right is a cryptic anthem to conservative politics, while understanding the \e{double entendre} demands reading to the left a little.
 
@@ -957,7 +957,7 @@ What happens here or hear? "To be here" sounds exactly like "to be hear." \e{Bei
 
 Being here, right now, can only mean reading. Hear!  Here! There's an \e{ear} in \e{rea}d. Here! Hear! \e{Reading} anagrammatizes into \e{ear ding}. Reading here, we hear in our ear, in an inner ear, this "ding, ding" of here or hear. Reading is both immediate (\e{here}) and vocalized (unspoken, but \e{hear}[d]) and made accessible to a hearing, an car ding!  ding! that always rings. Reading or ear ding relates to the interior speech hear(d) here by the inner ear. The read text has a voice that is \e{heard}, its \e{r(h)ead} voice always dinging in the ear right here. (Red, too, is heard here.)
 
-The ding! in reading echoes another language. \e{Das Ding} is the German word for thing or matter. Then \e{reading} is an \e{ear thing}, a thing in the ear. Since it is usually a word silently vocalized, reading summons up "flowers absent of all bouquets" (Mallarmé), the hallucinated mental image for the word's status as signifier. The thing is the hallucination, image, object, or phantasy that hovers from the lattice of a text. \bt{In A Faun's Afternoon}, Mallarmé wrote, "These nymphs I would perpetuate"; the nymphs were simply the faun's or the reader's hallucination, they were the thing hallucinated, "perpetuated," while reading.  Moreover, the Thing buried and hidden in reading, is the \e{ear}, the \e{ding} and the \e{thing}. While reading, we never hear that Thing which is the "ding!", here the typewriter's "ding!" when the line is close to the right margin. All those muffled ""dings!" when we read manuscripts.
+The ding! in reading echoes another language. \e{Das Ding} is the German word for thing or matter. Then \e{reading} is an \e{ear thing}, a thing in the ear. Since it is usually a word silently vocalized, reading summons up "flowers absent of all bouquets" (Mallarmé), the hallucinated mental image for the word's status as signifier. The thing is the hallucination, image, object, or phantasy that hovers from the lattice of a text. \booktitle{In A Faun's Afternoon}, Mallarmé wrote, "These nymphs I would perpetuate"; the nymphs were simply the faun's or the reader's hallucination, they were the thing hallucinated, "perpetuated," while reading.  Moreover, the Thing buried and hidden in reading, is the \e{ear}, the \e{ding} and the \e{thing}. While reading, we never hear that Thing which is the "ding!", here the typewriter's "ding!" when the line is close to the right margin. All those muffled ""dings!" when we read manuscripts.
 
 Freud distinguished between Word-presentations and Thing-presentations, the latter alone constituted unconscious ideas, the former conscious ones, along with Thingpresentations. The Thing-presentation dominated Unconscious always treats words as things, thereby justifying the use of anagrams and homonyms. Wit, for example, uses the letters in words as things and discovers an unexpected connection. The name of a comedian, David \e{Letter}man, gives encouragement to what must happen for the sake of wit: recombine \e{letters} to create a joke. Thus the word reading has the things which are its letters, allowing us to say it'san Ear-Ding or Thing-in-the-Ear, \e{read-ding}! a \e{read-thing} in the ear. Hopefully texts will "rap tap tap on (our) chamber doors," and those doors, the barriers between the \e{Ucs.} and \e{Cs.} systems, will no longer hide the Thing we dare to read.
 
@@ -995,7 +995,7 @@ It is no wonder that Diana Ross was once photographed for an album cover with de
 
 An additional allegory of photodeveloping is tanning.  The short time it takes to develop a picture meets up with the length of time it takes to develop a tan. The tanned body, when photographed by admirers, contrasts with an Instamatic's brief registration of light to skin's hourly or daily or weckly exposures. Like a lamp-filled photographer's studio, there now are lamp-filled tanning salons so as to "Flash 'em a Coppertone Tan!" These tanning salons have perhaps accelerated the natural tanning process just as photo-technology has accelerated developing speeds.
 
-\e{Jean} Harlow died of sun-exposure. Dyeing one's hair (exactly how did she dye?) allegorizes photodeveloping, from original dark hair to light hair from original print paper to light-registered paper. Overexposed Deborah Harry left her hair in the developer too long. In order to \e{shock}, people dye their hair, or rather they dye a \e{shock} of hair. \bt{Webster's Dictionary} defines a shock as "a thick bushy mass (as of hair)." Dyed blonde shocks shock the public so as to further the emergent celebrity's public exposure. Light print paper becomes darker like dark hair that becomes lighter like dark jeans that become lighter.  Light hair, like light paper, also changes color to darker hues as do prints in developing baths. The cliché of a Hollywood home with its swimming pool becomes a giant developing bath: starlets in chlorine pools bleach their hair while $8\times 10$'' prints, once immersed, also alter their original hues. The innocent ritual of swimming, either in pools or the sea, henceforth metaphorizes into fixer/developer baths. Swimming and tanning appear to be best on the beaches where celebrities and models swim (Malibu, Hamptons, Fire Island).
+\e{Jean} Harlow died of sun-exposure. Dyeing one's hair (exactly how did she dye?) allegorizes photodeveloping, from original dark hair to light hair from original print paper to light-registered paper. Overexposed Deborah Harry left her hair in the developer too long. In order to \e{shock}, people dye their hair, or rather they dye a \e{shock} of hair. \booktitle{Webster's Dictionary} defines a shock as "a thick bushy mass (as of hair)." Dyed blonde shocks shock the public so as to further the emergent celebrity's public exposure. Light print paper becomes darker like dark hair that becomes lighter like dark jeans that become lighter.  Light hair, like light paper, also changes color to darker hues as do prints in developing baths. The cliché of a Hollywood home with its swimming pool becomes a giant developing bath: starlets in chlorine pools bleach their hair while $8\times 10$'' prints, once immersed, also alter their original hues. The innocent ritual of swimming, either in pools or the sea, henceforth metaphorizes into fixer/developer baths. Swimming and tanning appear to be best on the beaches where celebrities and models swim (Malibu, Hamptons, Fire Island).
 
 Photographs are also connected to a highly nostalgic impulse since they are records of a former life however hard we try to revive a past now irrevocably absent. The mourned for Jean could become the mourning for our jeans that are no longer young, unfaded, unworn, these connotations allowing us to think of the disfigurations that await us when we age, "develop." But then all of us look forward to the time when our jeans will fade just as we look forward to the time when we will be photographed.
 
@@ -1083,11 +1083,11 @@ Straight people are trapped into always aiming at the "right" or "orthodox" path
 
 "Do you want to dance?" hopes for an affirmative reply, and if negatively answered, it will simply be posed again in the hopes for a "Yes." If "Yes," then the entrance onto the dance floor begins an elaborate prestaging of anticipated sex, its simulated performance. Many times it is only dancing and never the exit into far more serious dancing elsewhere. But since dancing is not quite sex, it always performs the impossibility of ever being sex. One keeps on dancing because one keeps on deferring sex and that deferral of sex is thus realized by dancing. Because of this constant shifting of sex into dancing, dancing inevitably embodies the homosexual's turning of the crucial issue of coitus onto lighter issues.
 
-Still in all seriousness dancing is often intended to seduce a "trick," the stranger willing to perform unorthodox coitus. Here dancing turns into the lovemaking that turns from the straight and narrow. Such seductive dance turns eventually reproduce the redundant turns of a record's pickup needle. The picked-up trick was just one song among many others and further turns just might very well turn another on. As extolled by one of the characters in \ft{The Boys in the Band} who screams "Turning!," the gay turns away from straight life so as to be free to turn, however tiresome this flight can be. The gay turns the Dance of the Seven \e{Levi's} because the \e{lives} of gays always return to the turns of these letters.
+Still in all seriousness dancing is often intended to seduce a "trick," the stranger willing to perform unorthodox coitus. Here dancing turns into the lovemaking that turns from the straight and narrow. Such seductive dance turns eventually reproduce the redundant turns of a record's pickup needle. The picked-up trick was just one song among many others and further turns just might very well turn another on. As extolled by one of the characters in \filmtitle{The Boys in the Band} who screams "Turning!," the gay turns away from straight life so as to be free to turn, however tiresome this flight can be. The gay turns the Dance of the Seven \e{Levi's} because the \e{lives} of gays always return to the turns of these letters.
 
 \sec
 
-Without end, the mystery of the 501 continues. Why did the famous cultural anthropologist Levi-Strauss, when discussing the gay resort Fire Island in \bt{Tristes Tropiques}, not discuss Levi Strauss & Co.? Why is a famous porn-star named after a pair of jeans, Jack \e{Wrangler}? Further, why is Fire Island called such in light of the near misspelling of fire for five? The horny gay man wears the five because he is on fire, because he is on Fire Island or at the \e{Pines}/\e{Penis}.  Norma Jean or Marilyn Monroe sang the line "Guadeloupe 105! in the song \songtitle{Heat Wave}, the last and most intolerably warm temperature in a long itinerary of Caribbean locales and temperatures. The hundreds of other instances where the word "fire" is mentioned in disco songs give unconscious, mutual reinforcement to the sexual passion of "fire" and its contiguity to sexual organs as emblematized in \e{fire}-O-ones. Even the name of a popular discjocky, Michael \e{Fier}man (who plays at the Saint and on gay nights at the Palladium), anagrammatizes into \e{Fire}man. As Norma Desmond utters in \ft{Sunset Boulevard} regarding her dead monkey, "He always liked fires and poking at them with a stick."
+Without end, the mystery of the 501 continues. Why did the famous cultural anthropologist Levi-Strauss, when discussing the gay resort Fire Island in \booktitle{Tristes Tropiques}, not discuss Levi Strauss & Co.? Why is a famous porn-star named after a pair of jeans, Jack \e{Wrangler}? Further, why is Fire Island called such in light of the near misspelling of fire for five? The horny gay man wears the five because he is on fire, because he is on Fire Island or at the \e{Pines}/\e{Penis}.  Norma Jean or Marilyn Monroe sang the line "Guadeloupe 105! in the song \songtitle{Heat Wave}, the last and most intolerably warm temperature in a long itinerary of Caribbean locales and temperatures. The hundreds of other instances where the word "fire" is mentioned in disco songs give unconscious, mutual reinforcement to the sexual passion of "fire" and its contiguity to sexual organs as emblematized in \e{fire}-O-ones. Even the name of a popular discjocky, Michael \e{Fier}man (who plays at the Saint and on gay nights at the Palladium), anagrammatizes into \e{Fire}man. As Norma Desmond utters in \filmtitle{Sunset Boulevard} regarding her dead monkey, "He always liked fires and poking at them with a stick."
 
 Add five and one, six results. The Latin word for six is \e{sex}, identical to the English "sex." Homo\e{sex}uality always already embeds $5+1$ within it, \e{sex}. \e{Sex} always seems to happen at \e{six} anyway, since after \e{five} one is on \e{fire}.
 
@@ -1109,7 +1109,7 @@ The recent AIDS epidemic has warned gay men to abstain from certain sexual pract
 
 \chap Afterthoughts
 
-Typing, my means of livelihood for these past twelve years, has had a pivotal influence on my writing. Secretarial wage slavery has forced me to be attentive to the appearance of letters lest a random typographical error provoke the ire of my employer. All of the essays heretofore presented in \bt{The Age of Oil} were composed under these circumstances of selling my secretarial labor power from 1978 to 1986, with the bulk of the writing composed from 1980--82. The only essay that was written free from the exigencies of secretarial duties was \essaytitle{Calling All Cars,} but that essay, like all the others, reflects my attentiveness to the letter, both forced upon myself by my livelihood and by the writings of Freud, Lacan, Joyce, Mallarme' and Derrida.
+Typing, my means of livelihood for these past twelve years, has had a pivotal influence on my writing. Secretarial wage slavery has forced me to be attentive to the appearance of letters lest a random typographical error provoke the ire of my employer. All of the essays heretofore presented in \booktitle{The Age of Oil} were composed under these circumstances of selling my secretarial labor power from 1978 to 1986, with the bulk of the writing composed from 1980--82. The only essay that was written free from the exigencies of secretarial duties was \essaytitle{Calling All Cars,} but that essay, like all the others, reflects my attentiveness to the letter, both forced upon myself by my livelihood and by the writings of Freud, Lacan, Joyce, Mallarme' and Derrida.
 
 Perhaps what unifies The Age of Oil is this question of the letter or, if I may be permitted a typo (now that I'm writing free of supervision), the let\e{tar}, where \e{tar} has always already haunted let\e{ter}. Letters are tar, they represent the gross materiality of language that speech always seems to transcend. Just as oil has usually been refined from crude into gasoline, from dirty black crud into the cthereal vocalizations of popular lyrics, so have letters always been spoken, retranscribed into living speech. The "lightening" of oil and its refined state reproduces the "lightening" of letters into their spoken state. As secretary, I earn a wage based on my ability to transform speech into letters. Occasionally the transcription is inaccurate, a "letter" is missing and so the entire missive, a "letter" again, must be typed over. What does a secretary type, letters or letters?  When my boss says, "I wish to dictate a letter," the double requirement entails both the rendition of a spoken interval into a visual handwritten symbol (a letter) and the transcription of all such shorthand into a typewritten format (a letter). My particular type of shorthand, Personal Shorthand, enforces this attentiveness since it deploys alphabetical symbols for such common words as "copy,"enclose," "and," "the," represented by "c," "q," "a," "e," respectively,
 
@@ -1119,12 +1119,12 @@ Oil or letters are shitty but made respectively less so by refinery experts when
 
 The hands and fingers of the mostly white, upper class males who extract surplus value from secretarial workers become dirty after they have finished their subway ride read of \journaltitle{The New York Times}. The \e{grime} from the \e{Times} that covers their white hands is eventually washed off as is also the graffiti \e{crime} that covers those surfaces of New York subway trains. While the white struggles to erase the train surfaces so as to resemble their light faces, the black struggles to trace the train surfaces so as to resemble their dark faces. Erasing the objective exteriority of writing for the objective interiority of speech reproduces what the white male capitalist does whenever he dictates a letter to a black female wage slave. As long as the hierarchy of speech over writing prevails, so will the hierarchy of white, upper class males over racially diversified, impoverished females. Women, because of their perpetually eccentric position to the paternal law and its linguistic aftereffects, often just "type." By merely transcribing the speech of males, their relation to language becomes inessential, cosmetic, as it were. "Liquid Paper," a substance that paints over typographical errors, now offers as nearly a variegated prism as any line of nail polish, not to mention that both feature a tiny brush and handle in common. Once a page has been "eye-lined" (proofread), "polished" (ungrammaticalities expunged) and "combed" for any other infelicity, the smooth, appealing surface can be signed, the white maidenpaper invaginated. The unsightly blemishes and wrinkles women worry over play their parts again when etters fail to preserve the homogeneity between ideal, spoken intention and written, visually attractive presentation. One brand of makeup I have had recourse to when acne spelled its letters on my cheeks went by the name of "Erase." Correcting typos and correcting blemishes somehow ultimately confirms my conviction that letters are tar since blemishes are oil.
 
-It was only when I read Marx's \bt{Capital} that I understood capital letters. Capital perpetuates the letter's dictator to be emblazoned in capitals but the transcriber in lowercase whenever the initials of boss and secretary settle on the page's lower left corner. Men who usually regulate the dispersal of capital require the capital whereas a prominent socialist I once knew initialed his acrostic in lowercase. Corporate logos are nearly always capitalized, a virtual tautology of their accumulation of capital. The one who types initials in capitals is the one whose wage capital keeps lower. Capital sentences lower cases to type sentences always with an initial capital. (In the dictionary, "lowercase" immediately precedes "lower class"; lower cases represent lower classes.) An initial capital investment will always safeguard the capital initials of those who have invested. Capital letters are the supporting columns of an entablature of a social division of labor between those who capitalize surplus value and those who capitalize letters. The correctly capitalized letter is the source of the capitalist's surplus.
+It was only when I read Marx's \booktitle{Capital} that I understood capital letters. Capital perpetuates the letter's dictator to be emblazoned in capitals but the transcriber in lowercase whenever the initials of boss and secretary settle on the page's lower left corner. Men who usually regulate the dispersal of capital require the capital whereas a prominent socialist I once knew initialed his acrostic in lowercase. Corporate logos are nearly always capitalized, a virtual tautology of their accumulation of capital. The one who types initials in capitals is the one whose wage capital keeps lower. Capital sentences lower cases to type sentences always with an initial capital. (In the dictionary, "lowercase" immediately precedes "lower class"; lower cases represent lower classes.) An initial capital investment will always safeguard the capital initials of those who have invested. Capital letters are the supporting columns of an entablature of a social division of labor between those who capitalize surplus value and those who capitalize letters. The correctly capitalized letter is the source of the capitalist's surplus.
 
 Because consciousness so swiftly intends its mental presentations, computers endeavor to attain those speeds by which mental activity runs its course. Secretaries, chroniclers of the consciousnesses of their employers, attempt to bridge this gap between consciousness and its object by increasing their typing and shorthand skills. From 55 wpm to 75 wpm to 120 wpm to 200 wpm, the speeds asymptotically converge toward that phenomenological gap between noesis and noema, thinking and its cognate accusative. "Word processing" is a virtual synonym for consciousness. The circuit from speech to its written equivalent must shrink its distance to that of the milliseconds between thinking and its thought. Even the DOT, a now defunct computer, cannot eliminate the abyss between thought and its dot.
 
 Still it is hard to believe that for every printed letter a human finger hammered it into place. Seeing a letter transports us into the idea without further inquiry into all the moments that led up to that imprint's existence. The typo consequently reminds us of the intractability of the signifier in relation to the signified and of labor in relation to management. The laboring fingers of secretaries are the hammers that strike their "nails" into the "wood" of paper. That drone of hammering nails often drowns the voices of those who are dictating, an oddity since the typewriter's loud, distracting strokes are only facilitating the voice's return to itself.
 
-Hammering daylong and nightlong are those subterranean textual chains most adequately represented by New York's subway textual trains. The letter's perpetual effacement by speech in secretarial work here finds solace in the letter's triumphant muteness and iconicity. For those who are enslaved by the speech of white men, the colorfully festooned sides of trains, "pieces" as they are called, now relinquish any purposeful relation to speech. They resist the phonetic appropriation that every above-ground letter must be shackled to. These illuminated manuscripts have been rumbling beneath New York's streets, an antidote to the manuscripts whose capitals still have yet to be emblazoned. May \bt{The Age of Oil} be worthy of all the lower cases who have illuminated capital by means of their illuminated capitals.
+Hammering daylong and nightlong are those subterranean textual chains most adequately represented by New York's subway textual trains. The letter's perpetual effacement by speech in secretarial work here finds solace in the letter's triumphant muteness and iconicity. For those who are enslaved by the speech of white men, the colorfully festooned sides of trains, "pieces" as they are called, now relinquish any purposeful relation to speech. They resist the phonetic appropriation that every above-ground letter must be shackled to. These illuminated manuscripts have been rumbling beneath New York's streets, an antidote to the manuscripts whose capitals still have yet to be emblazoned. May \booktitle{The Age of Oil} be worthy of all the lower cases who have illuminated capital by means of their illuminated capitals.
 
 \bye
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