Tuesday, July 17, 2007

dostoyevsky


Crime and Punishment







3 comments:

Anonymous said...

i would scream and/or cry is i saw this coming at me.

Misopogon said...

"Really, it wasn't the lack of discipline or teaching the children to sing that so irked Mr. Von Trapp, but when his new governess dressed the kids in curtains, now, that was absolutely the last straw."

[excerpt from The Sound of Music]

-2nd ex-cousin twice removed and backup vocalist for the Von Spiegel Family Singers

Anonymous said...

Haunt me no more innocent Lizaveta Ivanovna! I confess and repent my sins and, parenthetically, my insatiable fetish for field hockey players. I kiss your poor feet - first let me remove your sharp trail joggers - now I'm kissing your feet...still kissing feet...kinda bright in here ... can we dim those, roadie? (pause, confessionally) I've been a little depressed lately as you might imagine; the bright lights are blinding - pity this poor sinner! Are they bothering you as well? I can break them with my axe. NO! I'll be careful this time, I swear it:
were that I might conjure you back to life and pawn my own life in trade, to your miserable sister! - except that I wouldn't want to spoil your "plaid" medal victory lap (more like a float or a hover, really) at the Great Highland Games in the Sky! Yet, you say nothing! I am halfway up your kilt ... warm material - must be fall wear?! ... almost to spandex support garments(I'm sure they're black! Surely I flatter myself with the idea of black spandex ... for me! Wretched me!), - yet not a word! You are splitting me apart with your silence! Speak why don't you! Speak! Damn you field hockey goddess! ... I shall never forgive you your cruelty upon this poor, worthy, oppressed student, keeling prostrate before you! (well, actually, not you, really ... I'm still mad at kristen w. and mary z. from high school) - Am I not entitled to admire your short skirt? Your 2 Halves, 35 minutes each in collegiate and international play, 30 minutes in high school play - of constant bending over! (Is that a tittilating Olympic sport yet? - Except for the mouthguards! ugh!) Never once to love you, other than with my eyes, from closer than the tennis courts from where to watch longingly, and hope to catch your dead stare. But ... your eyes! Face! No forgiveness or pity! The police have arrived! - Judgement is upon me! I knew beforehand that this would come to pass - but it was not to be helped! Yet, not a word or expression do you utter! The guilty fever has betrayed me ... I'm feeling "light-headed"! ...

"Why am I to be pitied, you say? Yes! There's nothing to pity me for! I ought to be crucified, crucified on a cross, not pitied! Crucify me, oh judge, crucify me but pity me?"
- Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment, Ch. 2