Reducing Dylan into one, single sound: this is it.

The sound of the toy-instrument is also the approach Dylan had on attacking his lines.
And as God makes Abrahams son road-kill, Cash and Cohen tells a different story.

Indefinite jest

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[not] so much

Entering – upon a hectic tide of frost; Hermieone sat, draped in the
sorrow she deserved. The Pangs! The Outlook! she was told.
Not so much, she interjected.
The better! was proposed.
The less. was offered.

And still, (..) A person! A true, living, person.. with blood and guts and
all in-between surged.. secretly upon her; from shadows vanishing; entering.
Who are you? she proclaimed.
No more. he sustained.

The room: dark and rotten. Passages and clock-faces rewriting the walls;
doors filled with remorse filled.
And a streak of
A special line of dust.. just now.

For whom? she expelled.
For thus! We repelled.


Dancing for rain

You are tired of foolishness. Why? Because you want to move forward.
But foolishness is moving things forward more rapidly than you could ever achieve.

When I was a lad I served a term
As office boy to an Attorney’s firm.
I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor,
And I polished up the handle of the big front door.