A motley assortment of things.
I sometimes enjoy listing the objects around me. Lists have always enchanted me, and I know that the list genre is among the more compelling literary forms — and I do think it can be called literary.
A list of the items on my desk could create arbitrary combinations which take on meaning distinct from their parts.
I remember as a child being impressed by a list of the most hated people in the world. I don’t know who was first or second but the list was inhabited by Richard Nixon and Adolph Hitler, two people joined in legacy by the hatred of others.
The list has a unique authority about it. A list is read with the presumption that its items have been weighted and prioritized. The list’s authority is like that of a uniformed individual in a room full of non-uniformed people. A member of the armed forces might expect to command some authority if she walks into a diner with her full military uniform. In a strange way the elevator attendant assumes a similar (albeit ludicrous) air of authority for wearing his elevator attendant uniform outside of the elevator in which he works.
Lists, I think, command this type of authority, regardless of their substance and regardless of their context.
The syllogism, I think, has potential for greatness as a genre for its capacity to assemble unrelated ideas to arrive at an unexpected conclusion. I have tried writing syllogisms to illustrate this postulate but have failed as of yet to summon an example that illustrates my belief in the genre. A=B, B=C, thus A=C. Such a simple formula for reductive disdain.
So what is the gallimaufry on my desk at this moment?
A Bravo supermarket store receipt.
A stack of cassette tapes (including Sacred Harp, Liszt Transcendental Etudes, and Andrew Violette piano music, among other items).
Two Ben Katchor Books: "Julius Knipl, Real Estate Photographer," and "The Jew of New York."
A stapler.
Sunglasses.
Two $20 bills.
A 27-page booklet titled "Alphabetical Seating." I found this on the street and found it interesting to see a seating arrangement for an unidentified banquet or gathering.
A map of Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn, highlighting burial locations of the rich and famous.
A flyer from "Petey’s Burger," a new establishment in my area which I mistakenly thought was a new entry into the healthy burger business.
An "Anything Book" in which I first wrote poetry in probably the 8th grade, and which I recently wrote in again after finding the half-empty book on a shelf.
Is this a motley assortment of things? Who can say?
