性本恶

• Anarchy

  2012-03-21
  对于译者来说，有些句子（如《拍卖第四十九批》那人神共愤的头几段）搞懂主谓宾定状补已属不易，要想用明白晓畅的汉语传达出来更是难上加难。
• !

  2012-03-04
  海滩上已经天黑好几个小时了。...——但当她转身离开的时候,他的的确确看到了有光落在她脸上，就像是日落后那种橘红色的光辉，照在向西凝望的脸庞上——这种凝望是在期待某人乘着白天最后一排海浪归来，回到海滩，回到安全之地。（p.6）最终，在回溯真相的过程中，得到的东西就是这种闪着光的怀疑碎片，就像索恩乔的同事们在海事保险中常说的那个词——“固有缺陷”。（p.392）雾霭中显露出来的是戈蒂塔海滩，在咸湿的海风中散落飘远，摇摇欲坠的城市全是一种风雨侵蚀的颜色，就像某个偏僻的五金店里快要剥落的油漆。（p.395）
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  “Little before your time.”“It’s all data. Ones and zeros. All recoverable. Eternally present.” Groovy
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  Sauncho was giving a kind of courtroom summary, as if he’d just been handling a case. “... yet there is no avoiding time, the sea of time, the sea of memory and forgetfulness, the years of promise, gone and unrecoverable, of the land almost allowed to claim it’s better destiny, only to have the claim jumped by evildoers known all too well, and taken instead and held hostage to the future we must live in now forever. May we trust that this blessed ship is bound for some better shore, some undrowned Lemuria, risen and redeemed, where the American fate, mercifully, failed to transpire...”
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  AS DOC APPROACHED DOWNTOWN L.A., THE SMOG GREW THICKER till he couldn’t see to the end of the block. Everybody had their headlights on, and he recalled that somewhere behind him, back at the beach, it was still another classic day of California sunshine. Being on the way to visit Adrian Prussia, he’d decided not to smoke much, so he was at a loss to account for the sudden appearance, rising ahead, of a dark metallic gray promontory about the size of the Rock of Gibraltar. Traffic crept along, nobody else seemed to see it. He thought about Sortilege’s sunken continent, returning, surfacing this way in the lost heart of L.A., and wondered who’d notice it if it did. People in this town saw only what they’d all agreed to see, they believed what was on the tube or in the morning papers half of ...
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  He went out to the range after suppertime, as soon as it got dark. He knew that Bigfoot preferred the Urban, Gang-related and Hippie (UGH) section, where full-length plastic images of black, Chicano, and longhaired menaces to society came lurching at you on a 3-D shooting-gallery-type arrangement while you blew the suckers to shreds. Doc himself liked to spend most of his time on the low-light part of the range. Lately he’d come to regard these visits as not so much about exercising night vision as John Garfield dead in the gutter, and dead from real-world Hollywood betrayal and persecution, and the controlling order under which outcomes like this were unavoidable, because they ran off of cold will and muzzle velocity and rounds discharged in the dark.
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  “And your question is, is am I really one of them screamin right-wing nutcases?”“Somethin like that.”“I wanted to get clean, and I thought I wanted to do something for my country. Stupid as it sounds. These people were the only ones who were offering me that. It looked like an easy call. But what they really wanted was to control the membership by making us feel like we’re never patriotic enough. My country right or wrong, with Vietnam goin on? that’s just fuckin crazy. Suppose your mom was using smack.”“My, uh...”“You wouldn’t at least say somethin?”“Wait, so the U.S. is, like, somebody’s mom you’re sayin...and she’s strung out on...what, exactly?”“On sending kids off to die in jungles for no reason. Something wrong and suicidal that she can’t stop.”“And the Viggies wouldn’t...
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  If everything in this dream of prerevolution was in fact doomed to end and the faithless money-driven world to reassert it’s control over all the lives it felt entitled to touch, fondle, and molest, it would be agents like these, dutiful and silent, out doing the shitwork, who’d make it happen.Was it possible, that at every gathering—concert, peace rally, love-in, be-in, and freak-in, here, up north, back East, wherever—those dark crews had been busy all along, reclaiming the music, the resistance to power, the sexual desire from epic to everyday, all they could sweep up, for the ancient forces of greed and fear
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  that evening over at Penny’s place, Doc fell asleep on her couch in front of the day’s sports highlights, and when he woke, sometime well after dark, a face, which turned out to be Nixon’s, was on the tube going, “There are always the whiners and complainers who’ll say, this is fascism. Well, fellow Americans, if it’s Fascism for Freedom? /... can...dig it!” Tumultuous applause from a huge room full of supporters, some of them holding banners with the same phrase professionally lettered on them. Doc sat up, blinking, groping around in the tubelight for his stash, finding half a joint and lighting up.
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  Sauncho had been out all day and night with a posse of federales aboard a garishly overequipped vessel belonging to the Justice Department, visiting a site previously identified as the spot where the Golden Fang was supposed to have left some kind of lagan. Divers went down to have a look and, as the light shifted over the ocean, presently were bringing up one connex after another full of shrink-wrapped bundles of U.S. currency, maybe the same ones Cookie and Joaquin, on behalf of Blondie-san, might still be out after. Except that upon opening the containers, imagine how surprised everybody was to find that, instead of the usual dignitaries, Washington, Lincoln, Franklin and whoever, all of these bills, no matter which denomination, seemed to have Nixon’s face on them. For an instant a fed...
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  “At this point,” Pat replied grimly, a quiver in his lower lip, “I’d settle for a life swap even with him, yes trade what I’ve got for what’s behind the door where Carol is standing you might say, even if it turns out to be a zonk—in Bigfoot’s bracket how bad of a deal could that be?
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  Time for a visit,” he decided, “to Hippiephobia Central.”
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  later in the afternoon Doc drifted up to the Tree Section to his Aunt Reet’s place, where he found his cousin Scott Oof out in the garage with his band. Scott had been playing with a local group known as the Corvairs, till half of them decided to join the northward migration of those years up to Humboldt, Vineland, and Del Norte. Scott, to whom redwoods were an alien species, and Elfmont, the drummer, decided to stay on at the beach and went around sticking up ads on different school bulletin boards till they’d assembled this new band, which they called Beer. Playing mostly covers in bar gigs around the area, Beer were now actually almost paying their rent month to month.
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  Everybody we knew helpfully pointed out how the heroin was coming through in my breast milk, but who could afford to buy formula? My parents saw us locked into a dismal slavery, but Coy and I, all we saw was the freedom—from that endless middle-class cycle of choices that are no choices at all—a world of hassle reduced to the one simple issue of scoring. And how was shooting up any different from the old folks and their dinner-hour cocktails anyway? we figured
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  Coy’s own contribution to what the Boards’ producers had modestly termed their “Makaha of Sound” had been to hum through the reed of a tenor or sometimes alto sax a harmony part alongside whatever melody he was playing, as if the instrument was some giant kazoo, this then being enhanced by Barcus-Berry pickups and amplifiers. His influences, according to rock critics who’d noticed, included Earl Bostic, Stan Getz, and legendary New Orleans studio tenor Lee Allen. “Inside the surf-sax category,” Hope shrugged, “Coy passed for a towering figure, because he actually improvised once in a while, instead of the way second and even third choruses usually get repeated note for note?
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  Hey! wake up, it only looks like Happy and Dopey and them skipping around the Magic Kingdom here, what it really is is what we call... ‘Reality’?
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  Nobody can predict a year or two hence, but right now Nixon has the combination to the safe and he’s throwing fistfuls of greenbacks at anything that even looks like local law enforcement. Federal funding beyond the highest number you can think of, which for most hippies is not much further than the number of ounces in a kilo.”
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  “congratulations, hippie scum,” Bigfoot greeted Doc in his all-too-familiar 30-weight voice, “and welcome to a world of inconvenience. Yes, this time it appears you have finally managed to stumble into something too real and deep to hallucinate your worthless hippie ass out of.” He was holding, and now and then taking bites from, his trademark chocolate-covered frozen banana.
• Manchild

  2013-04-23
  ”I love him,” what else? With the unspoken footnote that the word these days was being way too overused. Anybody with any claim to hipness “loved” everybody, not to mention other useful applications, like hustling people into sex activities they might not, given the choice, much care to engage in
• 思无邪

  2013-01-08
  后来他们出了门，外面正在下小雨，雨水中混杂着海浪的咸湿味道。莎斯塔沿着海滩慢慢地逛着，穿过湿润的沙地。每次当她转身回头时，颈部的曲线都显得格外美，对此她心里很清楚。多克跟在她光脚踩出来的脚印后面，哪怕它们早已被雨水和背影所湮没。他就像傻瓜一样在徒劳地寻找回到过去的路，尽管他们两个人都已经走向了未来。时隐时现的海浪正在拍打着他的精神，把思绪打碎，有些掉进了黑暗被永远忘却，有的却进入到他模糊不定的意识中，不管他是否真的想面对它们。莎斯塔深深懂得这一点。