Ever
since I read that there were, to quote Wallace, “712,000” typos in the proofs
of Infinite Jest, I’ve wanted to get
my hands on one of the advance galley copies to see these typos for myself.
After obtaining one of these ARCs, I realized that the error-ridden version
Wallace had been talking about was pre-galleys, and that the ones sent out to
reviewers had “all but one of the mistakes” corrected.
But
after some comparison I discovered that while the putative lone error was
corrected—the galleys were accompanied by a piece of Little, Brown stationary on
which was printed one erratum—there were plenty of other mistakes corrected for
the hardcover release, as well as, more interestingly, changes made for what
seemed to be purely aesthetic reasons. Wallace had clearly worked on the book between
the advance galleys and the hardcover release. Therefore it’s tempting to look
at the galleys as a kind of penultimate draft, and it seemed that making note
of some of these changes would be worthwhile.
A
couple-three caveats: 1) These are not substantial changes. Most of the changes
are an omission or addition of a mere word, or even punctuation mark. There are
no huge new paragraphs added or deleted or anything like that. The galleys are
still 1,079 pages long.
2)
The reason that this is “hardly exhaustive” is that not every word was checked
for corresponding placement in the hardcover release. That would’ve probably
induced more painful neck strain than watching 45 straight hours of competitive
ping-pong. Instead, I’m comparing the last word (or syllable) of the last line
of every paragraph. If the two are different, I’m backtracking and seeing what
addition/omission/emendation caused the difference. This process is viable only
because Little, Brown has kept Infinite
Jest remarkably well-preserved with each new edition, i.e. there are no
weird editions with slightly bigger/smaller fonts, different pagination, etc. But
there could conceivably be changes within a paragraph that are so slight that
the spacing is kept intact enough that my method would fail to notice these
changes. Also, I’m not going to note every single change I come across, as some
of them are as trivial as literally changing a comma. (e.g., pg. 80: “Schtitt
can use the stem of the pipe to point, for emphasis: ‘But what then when
something is in the way, when you go between places, no?’” There was a comma
after “way” in the galleys, no comma in the hardcover.)
Even omitting these tiniest of changes, a lot of the following notes will
perhaps be rather dry and only of interest to hardcore Infinite Jest fans and/or grammar/syntax nerds. With that said, they
are not, I think, without value.
Guide
to interpreting this stuff:
Everything
in plain black text is both in the galleys and in the hardcover.
Everything
in red is material in the galleys that isn’t in
the hardcover.
Everything
bold with a strikethrough is
in the hardcover but not present in the galleys.
And
also Nb: There were additional changes between the hardcover and paperback; I’m
just comparing the galleys to the hardcover.
pg.
5: The two other Deans, black, look to the
Director of Composition.
pg.
13: …to the trio of Deans, who variously gasp, wipe
foreheads, wring hands, loosen neckties, waggle digits in C.T.’s face,
and make pases with sheafs of
now-pretty-clearly-superfluous application forms.
pg.
20: A counselor, Randi, with an i,
with a mustache like a Mountie, had said told him in the outpatient treatment program he’d gone through two years
ago that he seemed insufficiently committed to the course of action that would
be required to remove substances from his lifestyle.
pg.
32: Mario thrashed and sat up in bed, a small hunched shape with a big round head against the gray light of the window.
pg.
41: ‘Mario, we’re you and I are mysterious to each other.
pg.
43: He already has a mustache of sweat.
pg.
45: The whole thing makes Orin sick in the morning.
pg.
49: Orin also shaves in the
shower, face red with heat, wreathed in steam, by feel, shaving upward, with
south-to-north strokes, as he was taught.
pg.
51: E.T.A.’s hilltop grounds are easily
traversable by tunnel.
pg.
52: …though the P.R.’s in full legit operation only when the Lung is up,
usually like November–March.
When the courts’ Lung is down and
stored, Hal will descend…and activate just one of the big exhaust fans and get secretly high and exhale
palely through its blades into the vent…
pg.52/53:
Recreational drugs are more or less traditional at any U.S. secondary school,
maybe for
because of the unprecedented tensions:
post-latency and puberty and angst and impending adulthood, etc.
pg.
54: This obsession is almost irresistible in its force.
pg.
58: …in a stunning hardwood-with-ivory-inlay chest of drawers in the living
room, where over 90% of upscale people’s good silver is always hidden…
pg.
61: I am coming to see more that the sensation
of the worst nightmares…
pg.
62: …your disk of white light trembling like the moon on water as it plays over the identical
bureaus…
pg.
67: Some of the more marginal players start in as early as say maybe twelve, I’m sorry to say, particularly
‘drines before matches and the enkephaline after…
pg.
70: ‘I took a hundred-ten Parnate, about thirty Lithonate capsules, some old
Zoloft. I smoked some pot and took everything I
had in the world.’
pg.
71: Had she ceased to feel like as though her life had meaning
to it.
pg.
77: The doctor was not even pretending to try to
transcribe this. The young woman’s face and eyes were going through a
number of ranges of affective configurations, with all of them seeming
inexplicably at gut-level somehow blank and maybe not entirely sincere.
pg.
84: You seek to vanquish and transcend the limited self whose limits make the
game possible in the first place.
pg.
86: The air conditioner’s cord is thick and white and leads into a three-prong wall-outlet with black heel-marks on the wall all
around it.
pg.
93: Move south, calmly and in all haste, toward some border metropolis — Rome NNY or Glens Falls NNY or Beverly MA…
pg.
105: ‘They say it’s a great and maybe even timeless love, Rod Tine’s for your nation’s Luria person.’
pg.
106: ‘It’s the reason most of us think he’s still there, why he’s still got President Gentle’s ear.
pg.
111: Arslanian always has a queer
faint hot-doggish smell about him.
pg.
126: …this really may be a could be some sort of game
for you and the F.L.Q., to hold out the promise of the ant-Entertainment as a
chip for concessions.
pg.
128: IN THE GALLEYS THERE IS A CIRCLE MARKER IN THE TRIPLE LINE BREAK BEFORE
“It was yrstruly…”
pg.
129: …by the email place and she was shes’ dopesick
having a conversession with Eckwus…
pg.
130: And but so but back we go to the
Brighton Projects…
pg.
131: …and thru a fucked up circumstance circumstances yrstruly and C almost end up raping an a
older type nurse in a white nurses’ uniform…
pg.
133: …and Wo smiling says he asks C if weve’ seen goodold Poor Tony or Susan T. Cheese around we crewed crew with Poor Tony in boosting life did we not he said.
pg.
136: ‘I’ve actually been thinking of maneuvering for the whole Kleenex concession at E.T.A., as a venture.
pg.
139: You will note in block #11 of the accident reporting form that I weigh 75 320
kg.
pg.
140: …I again lost my presence of mind and unfortunately let go of the rope,
causing the bar—barrel to begin a
pg.
147: (2) And the videophonic stress was even worse if you were at all vain.
I.e. if you worried at all about how you looked. As in to other people. Which
all kidding aside who doesn’t. Worry. Good old
aural telephone calls could be fielded without makeup, toupee, surgical
protheses, etc.
pg.
148: …then outright demanding videophone masks that were really quite a lot
better-looking than they themselves were in person,
even under really flattering light.
pg.
153: …and Pemulis and Axford do not object to the filming, or nor do
they even do that hand-to-temple face
obscuring thing when he aims the head-mounted Bolex their way…
pg.
161: Your chin just disappears into that bow-tie when your mother’s big old overhung lower lip quivers like that.
pg.
165: …and I felt it singing, and my hand, and they were alive, my well-armed
hand was the dutiful secretary of my mind…
pg.
171: ‘Mmmyellow Mmyellow.’
pg.
173: Urban jogging in a sweaty pack is painful and
tedious.
pg.
174: Expect some rough dreams. They come with the feral
territory.
pg.
175/176: …this is all if as long as you keep justifying your seed and preserving your
rank…
pg.
176: This is why the whole thing is frightening scary. This is why all opponents
are scary and weaker opponents are especially scary.
pg.
178: The pathetic homophobic harassments of
Minty and McDade are bad enough.
pg.
183: ‘Like most marriages, it theirs was the evolved product of concordance
and compromise.’
pg.
184: Ratings are minor-league by the old
pre-InterLace broadcast standards of yore…
pg.
186: Topside on the roof in the bitter river
wind…
pg.
200: That you can cop a sort of thin jittery amphetaminic buzz if you rapidly
consume three Millennial Fizzies and a whole
package of Oreo cookies on an empty stomach.
pg.
203: That sometimes human beings have
to just sit in one place and, like, hurt.
pg.
207: A like N.B. that Ewell ends up
inserting under the heading Biker is
that every professional tattooist
everybody who can remember getting their tattoos remembers getting them from
was, from the sound of everybody’s general descriptions, a Biker.
pg.
208: …the inevitable fade that over time’s turned the tattoos a kind of
nauseous dark-green she now
has to constantly apply eyeliner to cover up.
pg.
210: …but yet the fellow transcends even stoic regret by dressing and carrying
himself as if the word simply weren’t wasn’t there…
pg.
212: Pemulis’s derisive snort sounds like the
letter K.
pg.
219: …where they’ve walked to gather gear and various spare rotator-cuff- and knee-appliances…
pg.
220: Among pernicious myths is the one where people always get very upbeat and generous and
other-directed right before they eliminate their own map for keeps.
pg.
243: The sunlight’s the color of the
bronze.
pg.
248: I’m like your superstitious tackle and center lineman.
pg.
249: It was something I remember Joelle was real
specific about.
pg.
257: ‘Hallie, Let let me just ask and then I’ll never bring it back up for you again.
pg.
259: Each year the academy that loses the meet has to get up on tables at the
buffet supper and dance afterward and sing a
really silly song.
pg.
260: He’ll probe, pecking, until some wild angle
opens up.
pg.
261: He comes around the side of the bounced ball’s second ascent the way you
come up around the side of somebody you’re going to hurt, and he has to leave
his feet and half-pirouette to get his side to the ball and whip his big right
arm through it, catching it on the rise and slapping it down the line past the
Port Washington boy, who’s played the percentages and followed a beauty of a
lob up to net. Wayne’s half-pirouette in the middle of
a sprint leaves his stumbling backward into the protective tarp hanging behind
him in a way that makes Tavis up above behind glass bite his knuckle.
The Port Washington kid applauds with the heel of his hand against his strings
in acknowledgment of a really nice get, even as he looks up at Port
Washington’s coaching staff in the gallery.
pg.
267: …the guy’s backhand is always sliced and lands badly
shallow.
pg.
277: …and then he always wants to walk back home
to the House solo afterward,
which is not encouraged.
pg.
279: Randy Lenz has issues with Geoffrey Day because Day is glib and a teacher
at a journal’s Scholarly Journal’s hem.
pg.
283: …but a prorector’s job was only for maybe at most a few years…
pg.
289: …watching the autosprinklers and the dawn Pep Squad (which really did practice at dawn)
practices…
pg.
291: The Coach finally
actually grabbed Orin’s facemask and pointed to the mouth of the field’s
southern tunnel.
…i.e. almost nothing important that
ever happens to you happens because you engineered
engineer it.
pg.
293: Consider that a football field is basically
just a grass tennis court tugged unnaturally long…
pg.
294: …seemed to begin somehow
directing her glittering sideline routines at Orin in particular.
pg.
303: He’d naïvely assumed that going mad meant you were not aware of going mad;
he’d naïvely pictured madmen as forever
laughing.
pg.
308: Troeltsch, who approaches his twice-a-week duties with all possible verve,
will say he feels like the most hardest thing
about his intercom-broadcasts is keeping things from getting repetitive as he
goes through long lists of who beat whom and by how much.
pg.
311: …they’d always veer wildly and leave shoulderless I-87 and put their arm
over their head in that screaming
pre-crash way and go ass-over-teakettle into an Adirondack chasm…
pg.
317: …months before Hal tested out at Whatever’s Beyond Eidetic on the Mnemonic
Verbal Inventory designed by a dear and trusted colleague of the Moms at Brandeis.
pg.
320: The without-end pursuit of a happiness of which someone let you forget the old things which made
happiness possible.
pg.
321: The moon over the Mountains of Rincon was on its side, its color was the color of a fat man’s face.
‘Ah
yes, but then you say: No?’ Steeply said. ‘No? you say, not children? You say: What is the difference,
please, if you make a recorded pleasure so entertaining and diverting it is
lethal to persons…
pg.
328: An AMNAT Minuteman can hold an absolute maximum of eight MIRVs irregardless of whether the titanic
jockstrap little LaMont Chu promoted out of the sedated Teddy Schacht’s gear
bag on the bus Friday night can hold thirteen dead tennis balls or not.
pg.
329: Hal Incandenza is squeezing a tennis ball and leaning too far to starboard to spit into a NASA glass on the
ground…
pg.
332: Hal and Axford are passing what looks to the Combatants like a suckerless Tootsy-Pop Tootsie-Roll
stick back and forth between them, and occasionally to Troeltsch.
pg.
344: On this coming Friday
night, a small horde of White Flaggers will drive out to Concord to put on a
reciprocal Commitment for the Advanced Basics Group.
pg.
349: …it turns out this same resigned, miserable,
brainwash-and-exploit-me-if-that’s-what-it-takes-type desperation was the has
been the jumping-off place for just about every AA you meet…
…but Gately couldn’t for the life of
him figure out how just sitting on hemorrhoid-hostile folding chairs every
night looking at nose-pores and listening to
clichés could work.
pg.
359: Just one more last nice day. Just one cold one.
pg.
370: Crocodiles’ temple-veins will actually stand out and pulse with irritation
if you start trying to blame you addiction Disease on some cause or
another…
pg.
386: The thing about this Marlon was that he was always wet. Arms purling, tee T-shirt darkly V’d, face and forehead ever gleaming.
pg.
392: CALENDAR AND PRE-PRINTED CHECK INDUSTRIES STOCKS SOAR — 8-point subheader
pg.
410: …whereas by late July everybody else’s attitude toward Clipperton
resembled that kind of stiffly conspicuous nonrecognition that e.g. accompanies farts at formal
functions.
pg.
424: ‘But there you go, but
this question itself shows how out different types of national character part
ways from each other, Rémy.
pg.
426: Whoever’s willing to put up his money where
his hunger is gets the dead guy’s soup.
pg.
429: Now Steeply had his pack out of
Flanderfumes cigarettes and his finger
of pinkie in the pack’s hole, evidently trying to gauge how many were
left.
pg.
430: You know there can be no forcing to watch something
a thing.
…if you do not fear so many U.S.A.s
cannot make the enlightened
choices?’
pg.
431: …and would stand there expressionless and receive his outsized first-place
trophy amid witheringly slight and
scattered applause…
…in Clipperton’s eighteenth summer,
of Subsidized Time, the adverted year, the Year
of the Whopper…
pg.
437: …and she spends her
massive blocks of free time in her Comm.-Ad. office doing involved acrostics…
pg.
440: …the Cabinet Room’s conference table seems to ascend ever so slightly as
Luria P—— crosses legs and cocks a
well-pencilled eye-brow.
pg.
449: Ten-plus years have gone
like that.
pg.
451: So the best E.T.A. players’ special
perk is they get hauled out of bed at dawn, still crusty-eyed and pale with
sleep, to drill in the first shift.
pg.
453: Except during period of disciplinary conditioning, Ball-Hopper-Srand alfresco A.M. drills work like this.
pg.
460: …and tries to get to the side of, to see if
whether deLint has a true z
coordinate or is just a cutout or projection.
pg.
462: This was not the only Loss Don Gately incurred as his chemical careers
moved toward their life-reversing end climax.
pg.
465: …Pamela Hoffman-Jeep used to scream in the can
bathroom when she used.
pg.
466: If he did the right things, and kept doing them for long enough, what
Gately thought and believed would magically
change.
pg.
474/475: For Steeply’s most effective interviewing tactic was this long looking
down into the face from across this shelf
without emotion of any kind.
pg.
482: …keenly interested in weapons and ammunitions of all the different sorts.
pg.
496: My father also said,
‘Fucking son of a . . .’
pg.
502: The round knob and half its interior hex bolt fell off and hit my room’s
wooden floor with a loud noise and began then
to roll in a remarkable way…
pg.
506: …which meant he was now holding Erdedy off the ground with just one hand…
pg.
507: ‘I couldn’t even stand to be in the same room, to
see him like that.
pg.
515: Hal has no idea what it signified might signify that the
Headmaster’s summons hasn’t come for almost 48 hours.
pg.
530: ‘For Whereas
your type’s a man of only actions, ends,’ Steeply said, with Marathe could not
tell whether irony or maybe not.
pg.
534: ‘But Don you’re still a human being, you still want to live, you crave connection and society…
pg.
535: …you smile so wide it hurts and put out your hand and are extra gregarious
and outgoing and exert yourself to appear like
totally unaware of the facial struggles of people who are trying not to wince…
‘Well I’ve got a brand-new life,
just out of the wrapper, which they you all say’ll take some time to
fit.’
pg.
567: And about contempt, it is about
a kind of hatred, too, along with the hope and need.
pg.
570: ‘But my whole message to Boog was that DT-cycles aren’t even all that fucking hard if you don’t paralyze your
brain with career-with-wings brain-cartoons.
pg.
590: Mario loves Hal so much it makes his heart beat hard.
He’ll sometimes walk around the
grounds of the Enfield Marine P.H.H. at the bottom of the hill’s east side
because they’re pretty much enclosed,
the grounds are, and he knows a couple of the E.M. Security officers…
pg.
607: ‘You think we need to take you over to St. E’s to get the diver your
intestine looked at, Doon, do you think?’
pg.
609: It’s the Bulldog Item
that holds the attention.
pg.
611: Thin keen cold air in his wide-open nose. Motionless heads at #5’s
windows. The DP objay that sits slumped by the viewer.
pg.
622/623: …the grad-work-study engineer of M.I.T.’s WYYY-109 lies bare-chested
on a silvery NASA-souvenir space blanket, supine and cruciform at about the angle of a living-room
recliner on the Public Gardens’ far hillside.
pg.
627: Stice, oblivious, bites into
his sandwich like it’s the wrist of an assailant.
pg.
644: Where they’d gone, where they were, what it all augured.
pg.
646: Steeply’s shadow on the shelf was squat and blunt, already shorter than
the living figure of Steeply himself, who was leaning outward to try to find a
spot far below to litter with a crumpled Belgian packing with one prayed no more finally to
smoke.
‘About the samizdat Entertainment of now.’
pg.
649: Day hasn’t switched legs or moved, and he isn’t looking at her ear or her
scalp, that which
are in view.
pg.
658: Stice drove this backhand hard down the line to Hal’s forehand, a blazing
thing that made the audience inhale, but as the samizdat’s
director’s other son glided a few strides left Steeply could see that he now
had a whole open court to hit cross-court into…
pg.
660: What if the boy wants to chat with me about the
his brother’s transition from
tennis to football?’
To have it stay the way it was
when they started, the game as something bigger, at first.
pg.
661/662: Hal chipped his balls over to Stice’s side
out along the baseline and
made some small adjustments in his cross-hatched strings as he walked around for the side-change.
pg.
666: Because the prorectors live in rooms off the larger tunnels, and F.D.V. Harde’s Physical Plant and Grounds Maintenance
guys have their offices and supplies down here…
pg.
675: ‘Very well then look:’ she said (Poutrincourt did, in Québecois)…
pg.
679: DeLint ignored him. ‘It’s not just the strengths or the number of strengths.
It’s do they come together to make a complete
game. How complete is a kid. Has he got a game. Those kids at lunch you got to
meet.’
pg.
687: …his expression neutral, watching some old
cartridges of his late father’s entertainments.
pg.
692/693: It’s a kind of emotional novocaine, this form of depression, and while
it’s not overtly painful its
deadness is disconcerting and . . . well, depressing.
pg.
699: The A
Negative thing about opting for recovery in NA instead of AA is availability
and location of meetings.
pg.
700: The two move in and out of pyramids cones of epileptic light from
fluttering streetlamps.
pg.
704: That queer faint smell of hot dogs that seems to follow Idris Arslanian
around begins to insinuate itself into the room’s
colognes.
pg.
710: This always happens when you don’t expect it, when it’s a meeting you have
to drag yourself to and are all but
sure will suck.
pg.
713: They stare at each other for countless frames, the office wall behind them
cruciformly pale from where the unnamed object’d
hung.
pg.
725: Thus, he said, now the more arduous and risky task of taking for technical interview known
persons associated with the Entertainment and locating the original maker’s
duplicable Master copy.
pg.
734: Marathe sat calmly behind the veil, feeling the veil move with the man’s
breath, waiting patiently to exhale inhale.
pg.
737: The children’s name for their mother was ‘the Moms.’ As if there were more
than one of her.
pg.
749: Her yellow head was inside the cabinet,
with an arm.
pg.
751: The authority figure liked to comb at the bright hair with her claw of the deformed hand.
pg.
753: He pretended that it was
necessary to sniff.
pg.
758: ‘I was going to just whip right over
into the showers, but the locker room’s got this, like, odor.’
pg.
759: Van Vleck at lunch said he yesterday
saw Pemulis and Hal coming out of Tavis’s office with the Association urine-guy
holding them both by the ear.
pg.
765: [NOTE: This is a very unusual error, probably a completely random typescript
mistake (was there a search and replace “afr” with “A.F.R.”?) but it has
obvious allusive frisson:]
‘There are, apparently, persons
who are deeply A.F.R.aid afraid of their own emotions, particularly the painful ones.
Grief, regret, sadness. Sadness especially, perhaps. Dolores describes these
persons as A.F.R.aid afraid of obliteration, emotional engulfment.
pg.
779: ‘There was the trouble of the digestive tracking. There were seizures also.
pg.
783: And meanwhile here’s
this Moment lady lumbering around
looking for family linen.’
pg.
794: —That it had been at this point that Madame Psychosis’s mother’s fork and
then whole plate had clattered to the floor below…
pg.
802: The stuff spreads through the hot little room like melted butter, and Hal
sinks lower in the hard orange chair and looks
hard at the space-and-spacecraft emblem on his NASA glass.
pg.
812: I began to learn that one could perspire heavily even in a bitterly cold
open-air disused dugout.
pg.
843: And are you as yet sober, then?’ the Crocodile smiles
says coolly, disappearing and
then not reappearing after several blinks.
pg.
845: …marring the statistics of Brullîme’s field-experiment to such an the
extent of badly that M. Fortier was forced to
consider whether to follow Brullîme to conduct a lethal technical interview of
the wigged substitute of digits for reasons of anger only.
pg.
851: There were to be no
classes all weekend.
pg.
855: The last and pretty much only man Joelle ever let herself admire in a
romantic way left her after her mother had accidentally
thrown acid at her, had left and wouldn’t even face up to why…
pg.
861/862: ‘And this right here’s a mule called Chet that could jump the fence
and used to get at everybody’s flowers out along Route 45 till til
Daddy had to put him down.
pg.
869: I thought how I’d just set and watch the snow a little and settle on down
and then go grab some sack
down in the V.R.’
pg.
898: The Mom’s full name is Avril Mondragon Tavis Incandenza, Ed.D., Ph.D.
pg.
900: Simply imagining the total
number of times my chest will rise and fall and rise.
pg.
901: He did this sort of thing with some frequency. A periodic
binge drinker. [Note: this is
referring to Avril’s dad.]
pg.
902: I was now part of the meat in the room’s
sandwich.
pg.
907: The Wholly Mammoth Petropulator was Petropolis Kahn.
pg.
928: Except of course she’s taken the wager backwards, i.e. O’Shay thinks Eighties Bill’s now got 125K on Yale coming
with two points…
pg.
941: And now if you want the thing—he’d enjoy the joke very much, I think. Oh shit yes very much.’
pg.
955: Himself told Orin he wasn’t going to forbid them from
to watching the thing if they really wanted to.
pg.
969: …sticking one’s hand way out and crying ‘Touch me, just touch me, please’ was some kind of new-stem-type
argot for ‘Lay some change on me,’…
pg.
971: There were some green and distorted faces through the glass’s side’s steam.
pg.
972: An R.N. felt his forehead and yanked her hand back with a yelp.
pg.
981: When And
when he came back to, he was flat on his back on the beach in the
freezing sand, and it was raining out of a low sky, and the tide was way out.
[NOTE: the galleys does not have the
quarter circle in the bottom right corner of the page.]
pg.
996, note 64: …and that none of the classes—including the potentially
lightweight astronomy and music—were in
fact lightweight…
pg.
1003, note 94: …the prorectors are kind of repellent the way hideously old
people are repellent, reminding the students of the kind of low-prestige, kind of purgatorial fate that awaits the marginal
and low-ranked jr. player…
pg.
1006: It goes without saying that you are of
course wearing your halo and mouth-guard at all appropriate times and
eating at least one green, leafy vegetable per day.
pg.
1012: He’s got C.T. seeing this place as a sort of cuirass
prophylactic against
commercial attention.
pg.
1014: …just to watch the Moms’s lips disappear when she comes in the office and sees it.’
‘It’s this certain way she takes notes on your explanation
of Coffin-Corner kicks punts.’
pg.
1016: You have to place above a certain percentile to get her to let you X her
on the floor of the nursery right next to the plaid-sided
bassinet?
pg.
1026: …and in whose case he’d also
taken a special interest and had followed…
Note 142: The speaker doesn’t actually use the terms…
pg.
1032, Note 178: A more abstract but truer epigram that White Flaggers with a little lot
of sober time sometimes change this to goes something like: ‘Don’t
worry about getting in touch with your feelings, they’ll get in touch with you.’
Note 180: Although Mario hadn’t had any idea M.P.’d used a screen, on-air.
pg.
1040: …all the while having to keep up a front of laissez-fair laid-back
management where she lets pretends to let Mario go his own way and do his own thing.’
pg.
1042: The machine diesels a little and farts some blue smoke.
pg.
1043: But consider the fragility of the obsesso-compulsive’s
control.
pg.
1044, Note 234: …finally it was Mr. Reehagen next door, who was so-called “friends”
with her, who finally had to come out and over
and finally had to hook up the hose.’
Note 242: …held only by some
prorector with a firm grip on
the back of his lock’s vest…
pg.
1047: (3c) I cannot help you too much with the facts surrounding Dr. Incandenza’s
suicide. I know that he erased his own cartography in a grisly way. I know that his youngest son Hal found the body, and that
there were traumas surrounding that discovery which Orin believes have not even
been acknowledged, much less resolved.
pg.
1051: …but seemed almost too unconditionally loving and compassionate and
selfless to possibly be true.
pg.
1054, Note 292: Relevant gnomes here might include ‘Addicts Don’t Have
Relationships, They Take Hostages’ (sic)
and ‘An Alcoholic Is a Relief-Seeking Missile,’ plus
the term for newcomer-involvement, 13t
h-Stepping, which in Boston AA is regarded as a dark amalgam of the First
and Twelfth Steps: something like ‘My Life Is Unmanageable And I’d Like to
Share It With You.’ And so on.
pg.
1064: ‘I mean to maybe make a decision.
pg.
1066, Note 321: ‘Sometimes you don’t listen very
real well, Hallie.
pg.
1070: Possalthwaite had taken his face from his hands and was staring stonily
up somewhere past Pemulis, lips moving in the habitual sucking reflex for which he took so much guff.
pg.
1075: DeLint looked a little less happy because he clearly didn’t know what any
of it was about and didn’t like being playing coded messenger, but he
still looked pretty happy…
pg.
1077, Note 360: A.k.a oxycodone hydrochloride w/
acetaminophen—®Du Pont—a C-III and sort of entry-level oral narcotic,
the side-effects and inconsistent buzz of which often sends abusers up the
ladder to C-II compounds.
