Yes, June 16th marks Bloomsday, and it’s rolled around again. Go and drink a pint o’ the black stuff and celebrate the finest example of utterly incomprehensible and totally pretentious literature ever. For those whom the full text might prove too much, there’s a dummies guide, complete with animated pictures. It won’t make any more sense that way, but it will at least take less effort to understand that it makes no sense.
BRONZE BY GOLD HEARD THE HOOFIRONS, STEELYRINING IMPERthnthn thnthnthn.
Chips, picking chips off rocky thumbnail, chips. Horrid! And gold flushed more.
A husky fifenote blew.
Blew. Blue bloom is on the
Gold pinnacled hair.
A jumping rose on satiny breasts of satin, rose of Castille.
Trilling, trilling: I dolores.
Peep! Who’s in the… peepofgold?