Bloomsday

Ulysses is all about deferred pleasure, so it makes sense that this post is 5 days late, right? Actually, the soundness of this rationalization rests on the assumption that pictures of nerds romping around in celebration of Ulysses will please you. It may not and you may give up and x out of the page as this is a long post. Unduly long. A journey, one might say. Of great mental strength. I'm just saying, there are comparisons...

Our Ithacan day:

Should we celebrate this man?

All the time. Every day. By making up new words and thinking revolutionarily, making people laugh and feeling sensitive towards underdogs.


If Jess and Gid were at the door of 7 Eccles street, what would they do?

Pose, show each other their underwear, drink, joke about poop and stick their fingers in the mail slot imagining letters.


What is Jessica's philosophy on picture taking?


That following every posed shot of faces smiling to a camera should come another blatantly posed shot of faces looking into the distance.


Are Sean and Alicia deep thinkers?

Obviously.


Does John envy me my main squeeze?

Who doesn't?
Nobody.


Did Senator David Norris hug me and call me wild and Irish?

You bet your fancy ass he did.


Did Alicia say that the Molly's from last year were better, or at least that they didn't look like they were actually around on June 16, 1904?

She did, that funny lady.


Does Alicia like Ulysses?

Sure looks like it.


Does Marilyn Monroe?

Of course. Sexy things belong together.


How could one describe this Bloom's body language?

Theatrical.

Perfect.

Amusing, enviable.

If Jess could give Joyce a gift to thank him for all he's done, one that would move him, one that would show him she's for real, in love, limitless, what would it be?

It's true.