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Rules and Suggestions for Enjoyment of This Book | |
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Preface to This Edition | |
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Acknowledgments | |
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Incomplete Guide to Symbols and Metaphors | |
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Through the small tall bathroom window, etc. | |
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Scatology | |
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Video games | |
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Blood | |
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"Blind leaders of the blind" [Bible] | |
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Some violence | |
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Embarrassment, naked men | |
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Mapping | |
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Please look. Can You see us, etc. | |
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California | |
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Ocean plunging, frothing | |
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Little League, black mothers | |
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Rotation and substitution | |
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Hills, views, roofs, toothpicks | |
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Numbing and sensation | |
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Johnny Bench | |
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Motion | |
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The enemies list, etc. | |
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Demotion | |
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Teachers driven before us | |
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Menu | |
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Plane crash | |
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Light | |
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Knife | |
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State of the Family Room Address | |
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Half-cantaloupes | |
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So like a fragile girl | |
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Old model, new model | |
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Bob Fosse Presents | |
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Oh I could be going out, sure | |
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But no. No no! | |
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The weight | |
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Seven years one's senior, how fitting | |
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John Doe | |
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Decay v. preservation | |
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Burgundy, bolts | |
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Outside it's blue-black and getting darker, etc. | |
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Stephen, murderer, surely | |
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The Bridge | |
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Jon and Pontius Pilate | |
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John, Moodie, et al. | |
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Lies | |
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A stolen wallet | |
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The 99th percentile | |
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Mexican kids | |
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Lineups, lights | |
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A trail of blood, and then silence | |
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When we hear the news at First | |
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[Some mild nudity] | |
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All the hope of history to date | |
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An interview | |
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Death and suicide | |
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Mistakes | |
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Keg beer | |
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Mr. T | |
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Steve the Black Guy | |
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A death faked, perhaps (the gray car) | |
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A possible escape, via rope, of sheets | |
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A broken door | |
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Betrayal justified | |
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Fuck it. Stupid show, etc. | |
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Some bitterness, some calculation | |
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Or anything that looks un-us | |
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More nudity, still mild | |
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Of color, who is of color? | |
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Chakka the Pakuni | |
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Hairy all the crotches are, bursting from panties and briefs | |
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The Marina | |
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The flying-object maneuver | |
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Drama or blood or his mouth foaming or | |
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A hundred cymbals | |
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Would you serve them grapes? Would that be wrong? | |
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"So I'm not allowed" | |
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Details of all this will be good | |
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We can't do anything about the excrement | |
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The Future | |
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"Slacker? Not me," laughs Hillman | |
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Meath: Oh yeah, we love that multicultural stuff | |
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Fill out forms | |
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"a nightmare WASP utopia" | |
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A sexual sort of lushness | |
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There has been Spin the Bottle | |
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"I don't know" | |
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"Thank you, Jesus" | |
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"I'm dying, Shal" | |
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Robert Urich says no. We were so close | |
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Laura Branigan, Lori Singer, Ed Begley, Jr. | |
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To be thought of as smart, legitimate, permanent. So you do your little thing | |
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A bitchy little thing about her | |
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A fall | |
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The halls, shabbily shiny, are filled with people in small clumps | |
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That Polly Klaas guy giving me the finger at the trial | |
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Adam, by association, unimpressive | |
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Of course it's cold | |
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The cold when walking off the plane | |
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Plans for a kind of personal archaeological orgy or something, from funeral homes to John Hussa, whose mom heated milk once, after Grizzly | |
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Weddings | |
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A lesbian agnostic named Minister Lovejoy | |
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Chad and the copies | |
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Leaf pile | |
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Another threat | |
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Of course she knows | |
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Wouldn't everyone be able to tell? | |
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The water rising, as if under it already | |
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Black Sands Beach is | |
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No hands | |
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Down the hill, the walk | |
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Not NAMBLA | |
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Birthday, parquet | |
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Skye | |
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Hot, poisoned blood | |
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Jail, bail, the oracle | |
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More maneuvers | |
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A fight | |
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Finally, finally | |