A Book a Day: The Everyday Maths by Liat Berdugo

A pop quiz:

Poetry + Mathematics + Beauty in Surprising Places =

mathscover

when some things fail

When Some Things Fail (Audio)

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A Book a Day: Mystérieuse by Éric Suchère, translated by Sandra Doller

An act of obsessive ekphrasis and aleatory transcription, Éric Suchère’s Mystérieuse mirrors, in its procedural elegance, the intermedial space of comic books, a form that hovers between writing and drawing, word and image. With Sandra Dollar’s beautifully paced translation from the French, attentively redrawn on the page by Sarah Seldomridge, it becomes wonderfully clear that delight proliferates—the raison d’être of translation—when media jumps thru media.
—Christian Hawkey, translator of Ventrakl and author of (most recently) Citizen Of
MysterieuseCover
Please join us in a 6 day heave to the end of our Kickstarter. We’d love to be able to pay our authors and artists for their amazing contributions!

Audio sneak peek!

Sandra Doller reading from the English

Mysterieuse Audio

Éric Suchère reading from the original French

Éric Suchère reading from the original French

Mysterieuse Audio (French)

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Giant caterpillar sleepover party

Goodbye, dark green dark. Party time. You looked like a caterpillar in your sleeping bag, so we hit you with pillows until you claimed the zipper hit you in the tooth and that’s why you cried. Like a moth in the dark you threatened to walk home and take in your surroundings as you did. Cool off, you cocoon gnasher you. There’s only one road in or out, buddy. We are so brave to hop loops around you laughing. We put on monster masks and chased you into the streets. When you couldn’t hop in your bag you rolled, legs kicking for something to hold struggling on to. You bite, you grow, we chanted. We dragged you back to the basement and stayed up all night yelling our favorite WWF wrestler anthems and flying between dusty basement mattresses, heads cracking the track lights. We caved in the dry wall. We ate everything that looked like a leaf: Bubble Tape, Fruit Roll-Ups, fang after fang of gas station jerky. Why, why did you have to put on porn? We were 14 and when my dad would pick me up the next day, he told me about the video tape he found in the drawer next to my bed. Do I have any questions? Yes: may I stay wrapped up forever with my mouth protruding so that Capri Sun and torn shreds of better snacktime floor remains may be sacrificed to it? May I have newer, weirder landscapes now? You finally fell asleep. Everyone did. You aren’t like other boys, you were worried, I said to myself. Swishing behind my teeth it was a safe and quiet thing to say. You’re too big and like a cylinder. Everyone was asleep then and the TV was a lone tooth poking out of the bottom jaw of a skull no one invited. I am that sometimes. Who will be my girlfriend? Stars beyond the basement grates? The unmoved bikes in the bushes we abandoned temporarily? Girls rolling me between their arms and legs? Girls I roll myself around pressing? Girls pressing girls around me and there’ll always be saxophone and the drone of the almost-sun behind the pricier edges of the suburban woods for rich people only? I wandered to the bathroom in the red dark of the off-over-there Chicago sky vs. the tinted house in the woods windows. It may as well be the end of the world you’re rolling off, you strange boy, I said to me. I’m glad you didn’t hear me. 4 am. 5 am. I’m finally brave. I don’t care, bring them both on. Bring on what comes next. Come on! Jerking off over the sink in the wall molding darkness: You may omit these lines if you wish. You may fill the walls with ghjlfilling. You may cut these lines but you’ll have your own manifesto someday. Look in the mirror. Girls? Nothing but lumps against dark lumps. Chocolate ice cream scoops in Coke. Pines tipped over in the embarrassingly sequestered expensive nighttime. Rumbling nostrils of the suburban tomb our parents birthed us in locked. Lock the door. Look in the mirror. There’s a WWF ring covered in blood stains. There’s a silver rocket care and a lone road. There’s a desert. And everything’s so weird and tangled up, and it’s always gonna be. Look down into the sink. It’s a spike mouthed pit monster. The best monsters have no eyes. I’m back.

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Happy Birthday

Happy birthday: Your time at city springs elementary significant memory in which you carry yourself Be a pirate shipvessel of U.S. Passportcritical documentation/documents, but today you’re air. I am not here in the fuzzed VHS-ness of 16small ageth baby teeth family camera lens birthday parties in Pattersonneighborhood park, so deal with it.
I am not here in the junction of Lincolnsuburban streets/grass dew/traffic cone mist where failurefear is what dreadlowercase emotion baby teeth in wet park benches do to global warmingenvironmental phenomena. Therefore, upon careful reflection, deal with it.
I compare a doggiesomething to the kind of what the fucklowercase dissonance variation you feel when you realize a cotton squeakingterrible noise like when you realize for the first time that helium balloons pop/the kind of elation when helium balloons do that thing to your voice/both of them together happens on your better nights entrusted to analog recordings and basement boxes like the bag of heartsselfish organ, plural you were.
So happy birthday. But for want of the dreamsmortal lack the bodysky or body is already dying.

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Wild ’93

Wild 2003year, we laughed into you like Wrestlemania and the faces and the hair that framed faces that held big glasses and the colorful shirts. Potatocrowd noises Like a WWF ring playset covered in superheroes flying, attacking, prolonged Practice Readypreparedness. I’ll come over after the next match and I’ll never stop. We’re forever around. Don’t kick me out of your my bedroommost secret zone w/ posters. I don’t want to drape myself in your father’s nightshade of sports equipment. I don’t want to hide in your mother’s medicinal tile and plant pillow fortress or my couchfortress. Just the one. But I always hated black and white tile and I always felt nauseas in waxen spotlights. I always like Michael Jacksonyou and the way you feel. They saw me leave. And they asked me about school and if I’d lost weight and if I knew even though Hulk Hogan had won the belt again. I decline in every way. I want to be your VCR. I want to be your drop top lo-fi. I want to be your MEM like a man. I want to kiss you like Rowdy Roddy Piper. Or not. Or.

We’re not

not special.

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Happy Birthday

Happy birthday: Your New Yearssignificant memory in which you carry yourself Be a Boatvessel of Passportcritical documentation/documents, but today you’re air. I am not here in the fuzzed VHS-ness of 18small ageth baby teeth family camera lens birthday parties in Little Williamstown Parkneighborhood park, so deal with it.
I am not here in the junction of Johnson Roadsuburban streets/grass dew/traffic cone mist where Being Eatenfear is what confusionlowercase emotion baby teeth in wet park benches do to lightningenvironmental phenomena. Therefore, upon careful reflection, deal with it.
I compare Elliesomething to the kind of flat 7 to major 7lowercase dissonance variation you feel when you realize a AHAHAHAHAHterrible noise like when you realize for the first time that helium balloons pop/the kind of elation when helium balloons do that thing to your voice/both of them together happens on your better nights entrusted to analog recordings and basement boxes like the bag of kidneysselfish organ, plural you were.
So happy birthday. But for want of the immortalitymortal lack the skysky or body is already dying.

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Happy Birthday

Happy birthday: Your significant memory in which you carry yourself Be a vessel of critical documentation/documents, but today you’re air. I am not here in the fuzzed VHS-ness of small ageth baby teeth family camera lens birthday parties in neighborhood park, so deal with it.
I am not here in the junction of suburban streets/grass dew/traffic cone mist where fear is what lowercase emotion baby teeth in wet park benches do to environmental phenomena. Therefore, upon careful reflection, deal with it.
I compare something to the kind of lowercase dissonance variation you feel when you realize a terrible noise like when you realize for the first time that helium balloons pop/the kind of elation when helium balloons do that thing to your voice/both of them together happens on your better nights entrusted to analog recordings and basement boxes like the bag of selfish organ, plural you were.
So happy birthday. But for want of the mortal lack the sky or body is already dying.

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Happy Birthday

Happy birthday: Your dJkbjHSRbJtIuABsignificant memory in which you carry yourself Be a NmZHPVztdNvessel of CODVWQKnoPvIacMYtpdcritical documentation/documents, but today you’re air. I am not here in the fuzzed VHS-ness of atwzbg@vxedfq.comsmall ageth baby teeth family camera lens birthday parties in lkGmyiExckyneighborhood park, so deal with it.
I am not here in the junction of USAsuburban streets/grass dew/traffic cone mist where atwzbg@vxedfq.comfear is what atwzbg@vxedfq.comlowercase emotion baby teeth in wet park benches do to tjeYrDSCtroUYgFenvironmental phenomena. Therefore, upon careful reflection, deal with it.
I compare yVnadNyYiPsomething to the kind of GOEgQsiHhPbehRRtOwlowercase dissonance variation you feel when you realize a eayyi7 <a href="http://joihylxnogyy.com/">joihylxnogyy</a>, [url=http://rcqdgghypneh.com/]rcqdgghypneh[/url], [link=http://eryskbsbrpod.com/]eryskbsbrpod[/link], http://oebrthsuyspm.com/terrible noise like when you realize for the first time that helium balloons pop/the kind of elation when helium balloons do that thing to your voice/both of them together happens on your better nights entrusted to analog recordings and basement boxes like the bag of QdwTMPpFqJbselfish organ, plural you were.
So happy birthday. But for want of the DDvhvihcjawXzmortal lack the klJpvDSaQWCySftsky or body is already dying.

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Happy Birthday

Happy birthday: Your lEUCEfuPHKDteHesignificant memory in which you carry yourself Be a YvsgLOwHbjcBeSPEdvessel of BayTRLlmveJjMsIwQKcritical documentation/documents, but today you’re air. I am not here in the fuzzed VHS-ness of sUXVMHGcZWniOpOsmall ageth baby teeth family camera lens birthday parties in uBEtdeOlneighborhood park, so deal with it.
I am not here in the junction of SFCTZaqLsRouErSuwWsuburban streets/grass dew/traffic cone mist where ZjEjIondRxGfvqKXVfear is what unNDstuGAEuQVmalowercase emotion baby teeth in wet park benches do to iLsaGnSClegGCenvironmental phenomena. Therefore, upon careful reflection, deal with it.
I compare OFckhgJtofUjGWxDYEGsomething to the kind of dfdLGOkyNuMVuXXzKyLlowercase dissonance variation you feel when you realize a ivJcgAiWLCHgjterrible noise like when you realize for the first time that helium balloons pop/the kind of elation when helium balloons do that thing to your voice/both of them together happens on your better nights entrusted to analog recordings and basement boxes like the bag of rZRbPSKgTselfish organ, plural you were.
So happy birthday. But for want of the QkbdZYzHJzgetmortal lack the qHQDRnzLtcPOsky or body is already dying.

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Happy Birthday

Happy birthday: Your HustpPOEasignificant memory in which you carry yourself Be a jvJpHKIaGozLsXnSZOvessel of RZhPwmqtbehgAoMsUcritical documentation/documents, but today you’re air. I am not here in the fuzzed VHS-ness of fqmttu@thouum.comsmall ageth baby teeth family camera lens birthday parties in WzTYcltZOXGehvDneighborhood park, so deal with it.
I am not here in the junction of USAsuburban streets/grass dew/traffic cone mist where fqmttu@thouum.comfear is what fqmttu@thouum.comlowercase emotion baby teeth in wet park benches do to bLIVnfcWYxwenvironmental phenomena. Therefore, upon careful reflection, deal with it.
I compare tHptwpbVsomething to the kind of MIMeFSLikQPZhgVQNlowercase dissonance variation you feel when you realize a 1R7uht <a href="http://yefqhlqxwezp.com/">yefqhlqxwezp</a>, [url=http://mequfjjvptmo.com/]mequfjjvptmo[/url], [link=http://rkkprkjfxuwo.com/]rkkprkjfxuwo[/link], http://oggcfdyvrrqo.com/terrible noise like when you realize for the first time that helium balloons pop/the kind of elation when helium balloons do that thing to your voice/both of them together happens on your better nights entrusted to analog recordings and basement boxes like the bag of IMeeOovvhBlyuMejselfish organ, plural you were.
So happy birthday. But for want of the MbAejVsOtOdHcRJzLbmortal lack the FNanOSXZvCWQMdBVfaksky or body is already dying.

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