/lit/ - Literature

Lelonge doggy doge from the snowy snowsharks longnosedongs sits in the winterreise eis a sharpface sharkface lollygaggin and his double snowman there sits be or rather it shall be called sigmund snowpointer

>>16361462
Within the ideological contexts of our perception we see, in fact, the representation of what we expect to be a dog and then, next to it, a simulation of a dog. But not just a simulation, purely a symbolic representation and simulation of a dog. For the simulated dog cannot speak or move, it is, in fact a snowman. As we see by the word snowman we would expect the simulation to be in the shape of a man, but in fact, the word itself does not mean what it explicitly speaks, for it could be a snow dog or snow woman or snow turtle, but none of these terms would get across the idea of an object hand made by a person to represent the shape of something made out of snow, as we see, as god mad man in his own image, so too does man simulate his surroundings in his own image, and thus we return to the dog.

>>16361462
he do be lookin kinda cute like that tho surprised emoji

>>16361514
Pseud

>>16361493
wtf did joyce actually write this?

>>16361493
>My sweet little whorish Nora I did as you told me, you dirty little girl, and pulled myself off twice when I read your letter. I am delighted to see that you do like being fucked arseways. Yes, now I can remember that night when I fucked you for so long backwards. It was the dirtiest fucking I ever gave you, darling. My prick was stuck in you for hours, fucking in and out under your upturned rump. I felt your fat sweaty buttocks under my belly and saw your flushed face and mad eyes. At every fuck I gave you your shameless tongue came bursting out through your lips and if a gave you a bigger stronger fuck than usual, fat dirty farts came spluttering out of your backside. You had an arse full of farts that night, darling, and I fucked them out of you, big fat fellows, long windy ones, quick little merry cracks and a lot of tiny little naughty farties ending in a long gush from your hole. It is wonderful to fuck a farting woman when every fuck drives one out of her. I think I would know Nora's fart anywhere. I think I could pick hers out in a roomful of farting women. It is a rather girlish noise not like the wet windy fart which I imagine fat wives have. It is sudden and dry and dirty like what a bold girl would let off in fun in a school dormitory at night. I hope Nora will let off no end of her farts in my face so that I may know their smell also.

>>16361554

>>16361572
I use /an/ too, wanna meet up and exchange fellations?

>>16361568
How can one man be this based?

>>16361462
December 24. On the way to the Christmas market I made a peculiar discovery: a dog that had built a snowman. The intricacy of this snowman did not go unnoticed, for it was not made in a kind of sapio-spherical declension, but was made in the image of the dog itself. There's three bits of evidence to which I can aver that this dog had indeed built a snowman. The first and second are its wetly darkened paws and the surface of the snowmutt, too tumorous to have been fashioned by human hands alone. This looked like the work of paws, patting away rapidly at its stilted image. If you can imagine for a moment the hound, with its paws up, patting away at a mound of snow, you will notice that in this image the dog clearly has its nose pointing forward (just like the snowdog in question). Lastly, the dog frankly looked bashful: the dog, with its long snout pointed toward the ground, ears pointed back, and down, with its stalactite coat of white fur. I take this incident as a hopeful reminder of the fact that art, mine and dogs everywhere, can be a means of alleviating social exclusion.

>>16361462
Imitation?- No, fun doggy I like about him. I like it, the world is too slender too. He fades and is made green dust-- *poof*.

The reflection of the light was casting a sickly green glow on the snowy front yard. The dog was sitting obediently by the snow pillar of his likeness that our son had made. He has completely forgotten about his creation as soon as he heard his mothers voice telling him that the hot chocolate was ready. The dog however, did not forget the task directed to him and proudly continued posing like a canine Kouros, maybe for me this time as if to make me appreciate my child's skill with his hands. But the bubonic green snow was stopping me in my tracks at every turn, reminding me that the carefree commotion coming out of my home was a lie that had mutated into a truth simply because of my own fear. I should not have this, the wife, the house, the kid. The dog. Tumbling from an eternal cliff ever lower but never dying I accepted the things coming one after another without resistance. Every day I would wale up wishing that my wife was strangled in my sleep and our child taken, wishing to be free from the prison of my own cowardice. But it never happens, and I am grateful.

>>16361462
in the beginning, Dog created snowman in his own image

>>16361580
faggot.

Too many faggots in this threaf!

>>16361462
best thread on this board

Borzoi Borzoiwowijczh got up late in the afternoon and immediately fell into a deep spiritual crisis, a hole out of which he could find no rope to save him. He called out in fear at such a dream, Maigret Maigretna, [a fallen prostitute turned housekeeper]. her face pale as white snow, with small arms like icicles arrived at the door with a bowl of hot soup
'What is it, are you alright?'
'Yes, it's nothing, don't worry, I was just, ... Maigret Maigretovna! I love you! You are the blessed Mary yourself, save me, save me from myself'
She struck back with a frightful glance at this impetuous man, wrinkled her nose up into a scowl like a small child, made a pout and left the room without a word, whereupon Borzoi sunk into prayer.

>>16361796
holy adjectives

>>16362141
what the absolute FUCK does this have to do with a dog posing with a snowman

>>16362164
He's the dog and she's the ice dog you baka mitai

>>16362177
very well then

>>16362164
Borzoi is the name of the dog breed, you'd know this if you browsed /an/

>>16362141
based

>>16362177
it's the other way around, she's the real thing and he's a poor imitation of a person.

>>16362141
This is Dostojevsky

>>16362141
So fucking good

>>16361802

>>16361493
Based

>>16361514
in fact

>>16361462
The weaker imitation postures in confidence, yet its creator sits ashamed.

underneath a long face, a long beard; one that normally wouldn't look dissimilar to st. nick's during this snowy season, were it not for the famished body beneath.
doggo the wise was himself in the winter of his life, and, aware of this fact, would have carried an even longer face than usual- yet, he knew that this was the time of year his gf returned. with glee he would pose by her for hours. he would curl against her curves until late in the night, at which point he would doze off to sleep. he dreamt of walks and treats, he even dared to dream of a long life ahead with his gf... later, when doggo awoke, he looked left and, to his doggone surprise, his gf had vanished. must have returned to her kennel, he thought. with slow stiff movements doggo got up, lapped a quick drink from the puddle at his paws (perhaps a virgin spring?), and retreated back to his toasty home.

>>16362607
It's actually an excerpt from Dogsojevsky's Notes from the Doggerground

>>16361514
Indeed, as the people who live on the Map of the Territory, we too begin to imagine the snowman-borzoi as more than a representation, but as good as the real thing. We take him into our homes and set him by the fire, feed him treats, and yet by the end of the night he has gone; into water. Gone, but for puddle on hearth. Rugged coal eyes of snowman-borzoi get thrown into grate, much to horror of actual borzoi and all children. Here is the message: the transience of representation, it’s lack of zero-point. What is there to critique of the snow-borzoi, if it will melt before it cares? But yet, will the flesh-borzoi not melt too? And will we not melt with him? Behold, the great unspoken truth: all will melt, eventually. Do we cast the snowman-borzoi out of our homes, or do we enjoy his frosty time whilst he still has it to give? I think that should be so.

>>16361493
>James Joyce actually in the thread
Hi James

>>16364877
What's up

The dog was out there as usual. This time disguised as a weirdly shaped blob of ice and snow. Just some funny looking frozen water that only looked suspicious because I let it. Nothing more than another coincidence the world was build on really. It was actually pretty funny if you thought about it. A grown man scared of some frozen puppy ghosts outside. Even for a a horror flick idea it sucked. I forced myself to look at the blank piece of paper in front of me. From the kitchen came the usual daily sounds of televised reality. Some excited weather man talking about the worst snow storm in decades. It was one of the few things I could still completely trust in this household of mine. The wife, the pills from doctor Sanchez, that damned dog outside.. Who knew what was what and who exactly betrayed who with some bullshit minor domestic assault charges. The tv people never lied. Once again I found the courage to look at the black nothingness outside. Oh yes the blob had definitely moved a couple inches closer to my side of the window this time. Through the darkness you could even see the first contours of a real dog now, right next to the snowy one. Even the wind out there seemed to notice. She was definitely watching me with that 1000 yard stare of her. Taunting me. She knew everything about me. That I was already home and had no other place to hide for example. She absolutely knew about the storm of the decade and my inability to love or write a single thing im this world. Soon she would take everything from me. Soon she would be in here as usual.

>>16361462
and that afternoon the one when it snowed which it never did that far south, leastways not in my memory then and not now either, and the three of us together made the snow-dog, and grandad was alive then because he was on the porch and the snow was fresh to us as on the ground but grandad had been up the Shenandoah in '62 and possessed enough snow already and he was going inside for this cold and his rheumatism and would you hurry up with that d--- fire already. but the niggers had never seen it neither like us so we made the snow-dog, a doppelganger least it seemed then to the real dog must have confused the hell out of the thing, only Augustus went in crying because Frances wouldn't let him put in the coals and Mother was angry. was that was the same year yes Father bought the red ford which Augustus put in the ditch banged up all to hell with Emmett Beauregard the two of them drunk as hell but Father was dead by then i wonder what happened to that car i think that was the one he sold the nigger yes i'm sure.

>>16364835
I believe the true jouiesince of the frozen dog form is thus, for we radically enjoy and fetishize the false dog more than the real dog, as it’s temporal nature brings with it a certain sense of importance, as the candle that burns twice as bright lasts half as long, and so on. But the kernel fact, is that this pleasure we seek, is nothing more than a facade. It is the mask of escapist fantasy that hides what we think is the real, but in actuality is a void of The Other. This is the true Real within this scenario, for the children who play with the dog would find the ice dog much less interesting if it had a longer life span. If we take into account the original dogs feelings, we can attempt to understand the mode of being that simply accepts the snow dog as such.

>>16365540
BASED

>>16361462
A dog and its snow twin sat.

>>16361462
le doge sat in the snow it was 1994 beside le doge was le snow doge baring an uncanny resemblance wow who is the real doge at this point even haha

>>16361462
MADE FOR THE BBC

>>16361462
*in the most nasal voice possible*

>Oh, I see how it is, human. My fur is not white enough for you, I am not pure, so you sculpt water to match your fantasy. I believe the kids these days would call that "racism".

>>16364701
>Note from The Pound

>>16364835
Very good

>>16361462
three black dots
six dots
the dogs are
still, flash
good dog
dogs

>>16361493

Incredible

>>16361514

This sounds like an AI who has been shown works of philosophy and critical theory

>>16361462
siede il cane accanto allo squallido sosia, "muoviti! ho freddo!" pensa il fedele amico del fotografo, mentre mite il muso, come sempre, amorevolmente punta al capriccioso padrone.

>>16361514
>>16367264
Behold

Do you see me now? Do you see me as a dog, as a meaty mutt, a furbound skinsack of blood and bone, black eyes, black nose, wet in the cold and sat in the snow, or am I just another image, a facsimile, plastic or plastercast, to be swiped past with your prematurely sclerotic thumb, the print smudging the grease on your screen, a mix of sweat and chipfat and semen, oncewiped and gleaming, catching the light that shines in from outside through your half-open window, from the world beyond the confines of your stinking sordid room.

>>16361462
I walked out into the air and the cold stung my nose and ears, cold as is woman’s heart when she holds no longer any love. The snow was sort of hard underfoot not like some snows which are soft and swallow your feet. There, in front of me, stood what I thought were two dogs. But I looked closer and saw that it was actually one dog and one near identical sculpted from the snow, probably made by some playful person. This was a good laugh, and I stood smiling at it for a while. It is very nice to see dogs in the snow.

>>16365579
Nice, you developed my point to a good ending.

>>16361462
"Are you alright, Slattery? You seem a bit off."

"I am most certainly not alright, Bunny. I had a most terrible encounter."

"Oh really? Do tell."

"Very well. I got lost on my way to a party and arrived outside what I thought to be the address. I climbed a set of old, wooden stairs to a worn, brown door. I opened it. It seemed like your room. The unmade bed, the bookcase, the scattered clothes on the floor. Curious, I cautiously walked to the window. The blind was half down. I pulled it up and looked out. Starlight twinkled above a snowy plane bestrewn with moonlit trees. I spotted a figure rummaging in the dark. He wore a red dolman under a sapphire shako. He stood up and looked at me. I could espy the movement of his lips in the chilly silence. Quite done with his gawking, he turned about and walked towards the horizon. The man faded into darkness and left behind two enchanting figures where he had formerly stood. Heavy snow began to fall. A hare limped trembling through the swirling snow, and in its wake came to me a simmering desire to approach them. I opened the window and jumped out. Trudging through the snowfall, my frosted breath took flight for heaven. The forlorn trees shivered in the icy breeze under the silver light of the star-speckled sky. Exhausted and frostbitten, I collapsed to my knees, only to see...them. Oh Bunny! if only you had seen what I had seen! True horror will be yours if you ever do! Such cold, black eyes. Such Yiddish snouts. Such long sinuous legs, and fur of purest pearl. Oh Bunny! I shook with terror at their crooked claws! But the fellow to his right--I had never seen such an unnatural thing as it before; and I had been misled by a tranny's tricks, mind you! It had form, yet none. It had familiarity, yet unfamiliarity. It seemed to flow right out of the snow and into reality; as if Dorian Gray and his portrait were put before me. While I knelled trembling before them, one began to speak.

"Ask me a question." he said.

"Excuse me?" I responded, quite shocked at its ability to speak.

"Fucking newfag. Ask me a question, damn it."

My mind flailed about, yet all I could come up with was the following:

"Why is it that French is randomly inserted into English?"

"I suppose its due to the Norman invasion of the United Arab Emirates of Britain, formerly Bongland, formerly the United Kingdom, formerly England. It's the natural occurrence of the conquest and cunning linguistics of the Normans upon the Saxons and Jutes."

"No." I responded. "I mean the blatant usage of French, styled in italic type, in place of perfectly acceptable words in English."

The canis unfamiliaris contracted his face in flabbergastment.

"I don't rightly know, homo." he said. "I don't think Saxon barbar to be so impoverished that its writers are compelled to use French. Now that you bring it to my attention, it's quite odd."

The dog stuck out its paw.

"Salutations, human. My name is Fido. What's yours?"

>>16368529
Thank you for joining in on the analysis, friend. That was fun.

>>16367306
>>16365754
>>16364835
>>16364216
>>16363851
Enjoyable and well written.

Bumping for more styles.

BORZOI (gone mad)
There now, friend, by my hand shaped
Of albany colour carefully fash'oned
There now, let us sit -

I cannot choose but laugh, we here idle,
Would that same hand so often given
to good masters, I'd reserve one day
to fashion thee my friend in likeness
and image but of voice b'reft, that I may sit here - alone,
On the ladie's heart that is snow
Are we now not equal fair friend?
Both of colour deprived as
the very warmth of Borzoi,
that escapes through this here my cloak,
to me gifted by my nature?

CROWD (searching for Borzoi)
Aye, tis there our fellow that we so hastily pursued
Borzoi!-

BORZOI (gone mad)
Alas they come now, I am found
They that, not a half-clock's knolling ago
would have Borzoi dead come hither,
then Borzoi should have too much:
and grant them not a spectacle or elegy for their amusement.
No my friend, let us sit here, so that gentle sleep takes us
to where the frozen bodies cannot go, and
where I, even I, man's companion, gentle dog
must go alone.

(Borzoi leaves the scene, dead)

what colour is youre wall