Can I just say I’m quite enjoying the summer issue of Geist? Sure, I didn’t even make the shortlist for their postcard story contest, and their crossword puzzle hurts my brain every time, but there’s a lot of intriguing stuff inside the issue, even for a non-Canadian like myself.
Like, for instance, this article about Banff, which I know only from Heather‘s descriptive recountings. In it, Stephen Osborne writes:
Presenters adopted a parÂticÂuÂlar style when disÂcussing matÂters of theÂory and techÂnique: voices dropped from conÂverÂsaÂtional regÂisÂters into flatÂtened monotÂoÂnes, the rate of delivÂery accelÂerÂated and the lanÂguage tended to thicken under the weight of too much jarÂgon. During one such preÂsenÂtaÂtion, a volÂunÂteer from the book table said to me, you know, none of us underÂstand a thing of what these peoÂple are sayÂing. I assured her that underÂstandÂing was not required in the avant-garde.
The author of Eunoia described a plan to embed or implant a poem enÂcoded in the lanÂguage of recomÂbiÂnant DNA into the bacÂterium Deinococcus radioÂduÂrans, a name that he proÂnounced fiercely, freÂquently and at dauntÂing speed. He had taught himÂself genetÂics, he said, and later he said that he was a self-taught genetiÂcist. The bacÂterium in quesÂtion, which he referred to in the diminutive as radioÂdurans, is expected to outÂlast the solar sysÂtem, the galaxy and whatÂever else there is to outÂlast, with the result that the poem encoded within its DNA — which, I recall him sayÂing, would at some point durÂing its five-billion-year duraÂtion genÂerÂate a new poem, also in the lanÂguage of DNA — would be the oldÂest poem in the universe.
Geist is pretty fabulous, isn’t it?