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dakle, ne d o Nusica, darling....treba i 20 vek.....tj. od dositeja do kisa.....dakle, ono p osle nusica je: moderna: ducic, dis, stankovic.....medjuratna knizevnost: andric , rastko petrovic, crnjanski, nastasijevic, desanka.....posleratna; vasko popa, copic, mesa, desnica, kis.....tako, znaci od dositeja do kisa..... pa to ti je to, zlato moje malo...Nusic je zadnja stanica....to sto je na sajtu filoloskog to imam i ja e, sad....za trece pitane se bira izmedju sledecih stvari: proza:mihailo lalic, dobrica coic, antonije iakovic, midorag bulatovic,, bosko petrovic, aleksandar tisma,pavle urinov, borislav pekic, dragoslav mihailovic, m iroslav popovic, miodrsg pavic, slobodan selenic, svetlana velmir jankovic poezija: oskar davico, branko miljkovic, stevan raickovic, miodrag pavlovic, iv an v.llic, borislav radovic, jovan hristic, borislav petrovic, matija beckovic, ljubomir simovic. milovan danojlic drama: aleksandar popovic, dusan kovacevic pa izaberes sta oces, ja sam onada pre pet godina uzela tismu, iz rok razloga , razume se -208, 7 no troops oasis -206, 4 53 snake 42 croc 18 tigers -214, 7 36 bats 44 eleph -213, 13 ME -219, -218, -215, -213, -218, 8 3 18 19 20 pop pop pop pop pop 90 45 91 98 31

NUBILES -214, 7 2 rats 2 spiders 2 bats 1 elephant -216, 14 4 rats 3 snakes 3 crocodiles 3 tigers rat ant 10 25 20 0 520 spider 20 35 40 snake 60 40 60 bat 80 66 50 crocodile 450 380 240 tiger 200 170 250 eleph 600 44

2r 2s 2b 1e |7u 820 692 740 117 99 106 94 42 44 43 40 180 100 120

4r 3s 3c 3t |13u 2170 1870 1730 167 144 133 47 32 27 16

1350 600 1140 510

80

180

720

750

-220, 17: 3, 3, 3, 9 NE PROPUSTAJ!!! stao kod -220, 10 Snimi Lupe u sumi, to nisi snimio tuca glupan trpi samo kad je laz teatar da bi mi nabio grizu savesti

0611368663 Dejan Ow ow ow... Sarcasm and irony exist for that reason not to be taken at a face va lue. Had you read Nietzsche, you'd know that. He surely as hell didn't believe i n god - which didn't stop him to use his name several hundred times, in aphorist ic, poetic and esseyistic texts alike. Then came Heidegger and said: ''O my, but he is a metaphysician, he thinks in this world-other world terms, he use scolas tic conceptual machine''... He didn't recognize the irony, just like you right n ow. I never said Huxley was a humanitarian (you probably wanted to say 'humanist': h e certainly wasn't red cross-mother Teresa type), I said he was a pacifist. Ther e is a slight difference between the two. Humanists believe in a priori human di gnity, in civilizational progress, sometimes in ideas of renaissance, mostly in ideas of enlightement - for critique of that position read Adorno and Horkheimer . Pacifists don't support war, justifications for war, logic of war. You can, of course, say that humans are animals. But that have little to do with my metaphor of you being a sick puppy or a saddled horse.

Sorry for the delay. I'm using free (or appears-to-be-free) wireless, so I depen d on it's accessibility. I'm not playing anymore, just using this account to ans wer your previous message. If you want to continue our correspondence, my e-mail is deklinacije@yahoo.com. I don't have face book account. You asked me to recommend you some good literature. Well, concerning your wish t o learn Russian, I strongly recommend Nabokov's (Vladimir Nabokov) late novels, and for several reasons. First of all, he's a great writer and magnificent prank ster: there's always more in his narratives than it appears to be - and I don't speak of allegorical meanings, which are usually just refuge for bad writers. He 's very attentive to details, and demands his readers to be attentive too, if th ay want to enjoy fully in his plots. For that matter - how you should read Nabok ov - I recommend texts of Brian Boyd and Alfred Appel Jr (they are helpful and n ot too theoretical or abstract, which is usually the case with modern criticism) . Second reason why you should read him - and that's primarily in regard to lear ning Russian issue - is because he translates his novels himself. It's a curious case: he is a born Russian, but most of his famous novels he wrote in English. He emigrated as an adolescent to Germany, when his father, then somewhat of a po litician, was assassinated: he took a bullet maent for his fried, member of the Crimean government. Later he left Germany, when nazis came to power, and departe d to US, where he became known entomologist and lepidopterist (researcher of bug s and butterflies: few butterflies speacies, which he descovered, ware named aft er him), and also a chess problem maker. But what is important now is his bi-lin gual proficiency (he actually was proficient in French too, but I don't remember he wrote something in French - unlike Becket, who was Irish but have been writi ng in French, while fighting in Franch resistance, and, similarly to Nabokov, af

terwards translated his plays to English). Translators could be real dumb asses - I know that because I myself engage in translation occasionally - since they f requently chase precise word-to-word translation at a price of phrasal, idiomati c, emotional, performative etc. meanings. One must be more creative and think of how something could be said in other language to mean the right thing, on most levels, even though chosen words, watched individually, may be not correct trans lations by themselves (about that problem, you could read Whitgenstein, his theo ry of family similarities, and partial translatability, and Derrida's theory of 'differance', dissemination, unstable meanings of words). Nabokov's advantage is that he IS the source of meaning for both English and Russian versions, so he c an, basically, rewrite his novels, losing no nuance of meaning: and that's the b est way, that's how good translators essentially work. I didn't read his novels in Russian - I don't know enough of that language although my mother tongue belo ngs to the same Slavic branch - but, in English, he's a master of rich and vivid expression. You'll see, first passage of Lolita is pure poetry, full of rhythm, alliteration, assonance - you can almost feel that guy's abundant love for word s (he wrote, in epilogue, as a responce to one critic, that Lolita was a cronicl e not of his love with romanticism but of his romance with English language). So , read 'Lolita', 'Pale Fire' and 'Ada', English and Russion versions. Afterwards , you can read 'The Defence', 'Real life of Sebastian Knight', and so on. I don't know your taste. As for myself, I'm a 'professional' reader, so I can an d do enjoy in every style: only condition being that book should be a true artwo rk (which is, more often than not, determined by it's contexts, cultural, histor ical, inter-textual - sometimes, when confronted with earlier epochs, you need a full-blooded research just to rightfully discern art from trash). From our time , in 'belletristic departement', I would single out Celinne (Louis-Ferdinande), 'Journey to the end of the night', and 'Death on credit'. His style is more stac catto, impulsive, untamed: Bukovski is his late descendant, but he is a much gre ater artist than Bukovski. Unfortunately, his later prose was infected with his paranoia, delusions and anti-semithism, and it's value started to deteriorate (u nlike Arteau's late poetry, whose value was actually improved by his schizophren ia and consequent clinical incarceration). What else? Whole Kafka's opus: novels, short stories, diaries, even letters. Rea d him as ironic and humoristic author, not just as grotesque and anxiety-ridden. He writes about sex, oppression and guilt, but he knows how to mock his own gre atest fears and unpleasant worries ('Metamorphosis' is, for exemple, his intertw ined parody of Sacher-Masoch's 'Venus in furs' and some parts of New Testament not to mention Jewish traditions). Let's see? Mann's 'Doctor Faustus' and 'Magic mountain' - those are symphonies, with clever intelectual motives, which gradually interlace till they reach emoti onal finale: two such finales per each book (his 'Death in Venice' is excellent too). Proust is magnificent analyst - don't be discouraged by his first book, he 's not so introvert as it seems. Borgues: he will speak for himself. BTW, I stro ngly recommend reading Cambridge (or Oxford) Companions for each of these author s. Believe me - much could be missed if one doesn't no where or how to look. Philosophy? About yourself, way you can experience your existence, personal - bu t not sexual - issues, there's Heidegger. He's a second amplitude of the pendulu m which started with Nietzsche: he tries to recuperate everything which Nietzsch e so eloquently destroyed - but having acknowledged his criticism. Of course, yo u should read Nietzsche first: but don't read him as a relativist, not even as a voluntarist: he's a cleaner of dirt, someone who wanted to reestablish the sign ificance of affirmation, of active force, in face of one reactive humanity. About society, unconscioussness, public and private, there are Deleuze and Guatt ari. Don't be frustrated when you start to read them - only few guys on earth kn ow every quot they use. Just go with what you know, and be sure that that book h as 'a system' which will be revealed. If you have time, you should trace their r eferences, and examine books and authors they mention - it pays off, believe me. Nietzsche is exquisite writer, besides, learned on Greek aphoristic tradition, s urely the most refined stylist among philosophers. Heidegger is almost unreadabl e, but when you once understand him, you understood. Deleuze and Guattari are un

believably expansive, their scope is extraterrestrial, and they are very liberat ing - sexually as well as morally. Books are: Heidegger, 'Being and Time', 'Basi c problems of phenomenology', his works about technology, Nietzsche, etc; Nietzs che, 'Geneology of morals', 'Ecce Homo', 'Antichrist', 'Thus spoke Zoroaster', a nd everything else; D and G, 'Anti-Edip', 'Thousand plateaus', 'Difference and r epetition', etc. For all these books, just as for all others, just three advices: read slowly, as k questions, believe and doubt alternately. I think I have most of them in PDF. So, if you want, I can send them to you. I'm Serbian. I suppose you heard of Serbia: we were pretty notorious, till recen tly - and not without reason (although our judges weren't any better; but, it's a perfidious issue... who could really identify himself with a state? I can't). I was in Moscow 6 years ago. My girlfriend's (my female student friend's, not my sexual partner's) family lived there, so they entertained us for two weeks. But , back then, I was on heroin (as was she, and her sister), so I don't remember m uch. There was one church, st Basil the Blessed, where we went with her mother. And there were so many different architectural styles, from different regions an d different times. Her father was then main building contractor for Hotel Interc ontinental, so he showed us around, explaining all. The most interesting thing w as their taxi-service: virtually everybody was potential cab driver. You could s top first car you saw, tell your destination, bargain a little over the price, i f driver was going that way, and that was it. I think they didn't have a real ta xi service, or at least such service was secondary. In a city as big as Moscow. Imagine! I remember everything was very expansive (with most of the country sink ing in extreme poverty, as our guide, my friend's father, made effort to explain ). Constant traffic jam, fast and accurate subways, armed police everywhere (tha t was a time of Chechen's attacks), and very tasteful national cuisine (some mea l with dough and meat, it's name escaped me). I would have enjoyed much more, an d seen much more things, if I hadn't been on seesaw of abstinence and hooking on . That was real nightmare. That female friend of mine now live in Manhetten, wit h one very famous, Basquiatte-type painter. She's still on smack. That's the one thing I regret most in my life. But that's her choice. I'm just sad because she was, and still is, the smartest girl I've known. Theater, painting, litterature , she really was into it. And while I was in Russia, cleaning up and getting hoo ked again, my best friend, my surrogate-father (not literally: he was just much older, and acted like my father), the smartest man I've known, died of lung canc er. He was a Vorhole-type painter, and obsesive reader of philosophy and literat ure. And the thing is, the painter with whom my girlfriend lives now is just dyi ng of skin cancer: and he's obsessive reader of physics and theology. Need I cla rify: both of them, of our two painter-friends, were heroin addicts. Curious com bination, isn't it? Kind of a story Nabokov would write. So, in short, I'm not i ndifferent to Russsia. It's one important knot in a weave of my life. Hi Andy. Sorry for the delay. I'm using free (or appears-to-be-free) wireless, so I depen d on it's accessibility. I'm not playing anymore, on any server, just using this account to answer your previous message. If you want to continue our correspond ence, my e-mail is deklinacije@yahoo.com. I don't have face book account. You asked me to recommend you some good literature. Well, concerning your wish t o learn Russian, I strongly recommend Nabokov's (Vladimir Nabokov) late novels, and for several reasons. First of all, he's a great writer and magnificent prank ster: there's always more in his narratives than it appears to be - and I don't speak of allegorical meanings, which are usually just refuge for bad writers. He 's very attentive to details, and demands his readers to be attentive too, if th ay want to enjoy fully in his plots. For that matter - how you should read Nabok ov - I recommend texts of Brian Boyd and Alfred Appel Jr (they are helpful and n ot too theoretical or abstract, which is usually the case with modern criticism)

. Second reason why you should read him - and that's primarily in regard to lear ning Russian issue - is because he translates his novels himself. It's a curious case: he is a born Russian, but most of his famous novels he wrote in English. He emigrated as an adolescent to Germany, when his father, then somewhat of a po litician, was assassinated: he took a bullet meant for his fried, member of the Crimean government. Later he left Germany, when N.a.z.is came to power, and depa rted to US, where he became known entomologist and lepidopterist (researcher of bugs and butterflies: few butterflies species, which he discovered, ware named a fter him), and also a chess problem maker. But what is important now is his bi-l ingual proficiency (he actually was proficient in French too, but I don't rememb er he wrote something in French - unlike Becket, who was Irish but have been wri ting in French, while fighting in French resistance, and, similarly to Nabokov, afterwards translated his plays to English). Translators could be real dumb as.e s - I know that because I myself engage in translation occasionally - since they frequently chase precise word-to-word translation at a price of phrasal, idioma tic, emotional, performative etc. meanings. One must be more creative and think of how something could be said in other language to mean the right thing, on mos t levels, even though chosen words, watched individually, may be not correct tra nslations by themselves (about that problem, you could read Wittgenstein, his th eory of family similarities, and partial translatability, and Derrida's theory o f 'differance', dissemination, unstable meanings of words). Nabokov's advantage is that he IS the source of meaning for both English and Russian versions, so he can, basically, rewrite his novels, losing no nuance of meaning: and that's the best way, that's how good translators essentially work. I didn't read his novel s in Russian - I don't know enough of that language although my mother tongue be longs to the same Slavic branch - but, in English, he's a master of rich and viv id expression. You'll see, first passage of Lolita is pure poetry, full of rhyth m, alliteration, assonance - you can almost feel that guy's abundant love for wo rds (he wrote, in epilogue, as a response to one critic, that Lolita was a chron icle not of his love with romanticism but of his romance with English language). So, read 'Lolita', 'Pale Fire' and 'Ada', English and Russian versions. Afterwa rds, you can read 'The Defense', 'Real life of Sebastian Knight', and so on. I don't know your taste. As for myself, I'm a 'professional' reader, so I can an d do enjoy in every style: only condition being that book should be a true artwo rk (which is, more often than not, determined by it's contexts, cultural, histor ical, inter-textual - sometimes, when confronted with earlier epochs, you need a full-blooded research just to rightfully discern art from trash). From our time , in 'belletristic department', I would single out Celine (Louis-Ferdinande), 'J ourney to the end of night', and 'Death on credit'. His style is more staccato, impulsive, untamed: Bukowski is his late descendant, but he is a much greater ar tist than Bukowski. Unfortunately, his later prose was infected with his paranoi a, delusions and antis.e.m.itism, and it's value started to deteriorate (unlike Artaud's late poetry, whose value was actually improved by his schizophrenia and consequent clinical incarceration). What else? Whole Kafka's opus: novels, short stories, diaries, even letters. Rea d him as ironic and humoristic author, not just as grotesque and anxiety-ridden. He writes about sex, oppression and guilt, but he knows how to mock his own gre atest fears and unpleasant worries ('Metamorphosis' is, for example, his intertw ined parody of Sacher-Masoch's 'Venus in furs' and some parts of New Testament not to mention Je.w.ish traditions). Let's see? Mann's 'Doctor Faustus' and 'Magic mountain' - those are symphonies, with clever intellectual motives, which gradually interlace till they reach emot ional finale: two such finales per each book (his 'Death in Venice' is excellent too). Proust is magnificent analyst - don't be discouraged by his first book, h e's not so introvert as it seems. Borges: he will speak for himself. BTW, I stro ngly recommend reading Cambridge (or Oxford) Companions for each of these author s. Believe me - much could be missed if one doesn't no where or how to look. Philosophy? About yourself, way you can experience your existence, personal - bu t not sexual - issues, there's Heidegger. He's a second amplitude of the pendulu m which started with Nietzsche: he tries to recuperate everything which Nietzsch

e so eloquently destroyed - but having acknowledged his criticism. Of course, yo u should read Nietzsche first: but don't read him as a relativist, not even as a voluntarist: he's a cleaner of dirt, someone who wanted to reestablish the sign ificance of affirmation, of active force, in face of one reactive humanity. About society, unconsciousness, public and private, there are Deleuze and Guatta ri. Don't be frustrated when you start to read them - only few guys on earth kno w every quot they use. Just go with what you know, and be sure that that book ha s 'a system' which will be revealed. If you have time, you should trace their re ferences, and examine books and authors they mention - it pays off, believe me. Nietzsche is exquisite writer, besides, learned on Greek aphoristic tradition, s urely the most refined stylist among philosophers. Heidegger is almost unreadabl e, but when you once understand him, you understood. Deleuze and Guattari are un believably expansive, their scope is extraterrestrial, and they are very liberat ing - sexually as well as morally. Books are: Heidegger, 'Being and Time', 'Basi c problems of phenomenology', his works about technology, Nietzsche, etc; Nietzs che, 'Genealogy of morals', 'Ecce Homo', 'Antichrist', 'Thus spoke Zoroaster', a nd everything else; D and G, 'Anti-Edip', 'Thousand plateaus', 'Difference and r epetition', etc. For all these books, just as for all others, just three advices: read slowly, as k questions, believe and doubt alternately. I think I have most of them in PDF. So, if you want, I can send them to you. I'm Serbian. I suppose you heard of Serbia: we were pretty notorious, till recen tly - and not without reason (although our judges weren't any better; but, it's a perfidious issue... who could really identify oneself with a state? I can't). I was in Moscow 6 years ago. My girlfriend's (my female student friend's, not my sexual partner's) family lived there, so they entertained us for two weeks. But , back then, I was on heroin (as was she, and her sister), so I don't remember m uch. There was one church, st Basil the Blessed, where we went with her mother. And there were so many different architectural styles, from different regions an d different times. Her father was then main building contractor for Hotel Interc ontinental, so he showed us around, explaining all. The most interesting thing w as their taxi-service: virtually everybody was potential cab driver. You could s top first car you saw, tell your destination, bargain a little over the price, i f driver was going that way, and that was it. I think they didn't have a real ta xi service, or at least such service was secondary. In a city as big as Moscow. Imagine! I remember everything was very expansive (with most of the country sink ing in extreme poverty, as our guide, my friend's father, made effort to explain ). Constant traffic jam, fast and accurate subways, armed police everywhere (tha t was a time of Chechens' attacks), and very tasteful national cuisine (some mea l with dough and meat, it's name escaped me). I would have enjoyed much more, an d seen much more things, if I hadn't been on seesaw of abstinence and hooking on . That was real nightmare. That female friend of mine now live in Manhattan, wit h one very famous, Basquiat-type painter. She's still on smack. That's the one t hing I regret most in my life. But that's her choice. I'm just sad because she w as, and still is, the smartest girl I've known. Theater, painting, literature, s he really was into it. And while I was in Russia, cleaning up and getting hooked again, my best friend, my surrogate-father (not literally: he was just much old er, and acted like my father), the smartest man I've known, died of lung cancer. He was a Warhol-type painter, and obsessive reader of philosophy and literature . And the thing is, the painter with whom my girlfriend lives now is just dying of skin cancer: and he's obsessive reader of physics and theology. Need I clarif y: both of them, of our two painter-friends, were heroin addicts. Curious combin ation, isn't it? Kind of a story Nabokov would write. So, in short, I'm not indi fferent to Russia. It's one important knot in a weave of my life. If you want me to send you some of those books, write me on my e-mail. Vlada