Faith in Humanity Restored

I ordered, on-line, for two “overpriced” acrylic half face shields from Lazada; the items were delivered promptly in a carton box.  The items were in “zip-lock” bags, which in turn was bubble-wrapped then wrapped once more with a strip of cling film. The packaging is an “unboxing” YouTuber’s delight.  Disappointingly, in spite of its three layers of protective covering, one of the two items had scratches on its acrylic shield.  Well, it wasn’t the first time I was scammed by an on-line seller.  It comes with the territory and on-line buyers have little protection against sellers of defective or inferior products.  It is really up to the buyer but in the end a big part of it is trust— the belief that at the other end of the line is a trustworthy human being.  While on-line distributors offer a feedback mechanism that should impact on a seller’s reputation— and ultimately on his sales, it wouldn’t stop a scrupulous seller from having multiple “stores” such that one with a bad rep would not impact on the seller’s other “stores”.  Anyway, I submitted a review detailing the packaging and the scratches on the merchandise.  Lo and behold, within minutes I got a text message from the seller telling me that they’ll replace the item and within an hour a replacement was indeed delivered— via a courier that the seller contracted at their expense,  with a note that I could keep the damaged one. 

The Constant Scribbler

In a digital world of keyboards, styluses and fingertips, I still prefer to write on paper with a fountain pen— I have five (to be honest, I actually have more than that, but I usually use these five):— a Sailor 1911L with a “European” Extra Fine nib inked with Pilot Iroshizuku Take sumi (which translates to “Bamboo Charcoal”— a black ink), a cheap plain black Pilot Metropolitan with a “Japanese” Extra Fine nib inked with Pilot Iroshizuku Fuyu-gaki (which translates to “Winter Persimmon”— a reddish-orange ink), a Pilot Custom Heritage 912 PO— a posting nib, a nib especially designed & made exclusively by Pilot for use with cheap Japanese postcards (it’s basically a rigid “Japanese” Extra Fine— or maybe even an Ultra Extra Fine, with the tip tuned downward), a TWSBI Diamond Mini with a “European” Extra Fine nib and another TWSBI— a Vac Mini  with a “European” Broad nib “re-grinded” to an “Architect” nib— a nib ideal for people who write in block letters, like I do (it’s basically the opposite of a cursive italic nib, producing wide horizontal strokes & thin vertical strokes.). The last three inked with Noodler’s Black.

Consequent to using pens I have also become a paper hoarder.  The search for the ultimate pen and paper combo had led me down to a rabbit hole filled with all sorts of paper.  I’ve narrowed down my paper choices to a few:—  among which is dotted Rhodia paper, Moleskin pocket notebooks (the old stocks), Midori Travel notebooks, dotted notebooks made locally by the Veco Paper Corporation, and a variety of relatively obscure paper brands— which are not necessarily fountain pen friendly, but which I find “interesting”. I also buy surplus pocket datebook planners, mostly from Moleskin, which are usually put on sale around May of the current year. 

And because I try out my pens on almost every paper I could get my hands on, I have become a serial scribbler (and doodler). Most times I jot down notes simply to have an excuse to write. Sometimes I just write a word repeatedly— ever mindful of my handwriting, to fill a page. I started out writing in script in grade school but gradually shifted to block using the then ubiquitous Bic ball pen, then I wrote with a technical pen for a while, then Japanese felt tip disposable pens until I discovered fountain pens.  In the late 90s, I shifted to needle point gel pens because it was convenient.  This was when Japan came out with 0.5mm, 0.4mm and 0.3mm nibs in different colors. 

The first fountain pen I regularly used (it was the 80s) was a Pilot “Birdie” inked with Quick permanent black (— there was no other ink that I know of then). The “Birdie” is a stainless steel tiny slim pen intended for people with small hands—  probably women, to use as a pocket pen (or clipped on an address book & stowed in a purse).  I also own its twin mechanical pencil. 

When the “Birdie” gave up on me, I got a plain black Pilot Metropolitan instead. Then a TWSBI.  

TWSBI pens are made by TaShin Precision, an OEM Taiwanese manufacturer. The first three letters in the TWSBI name stands  for the phrase “San Wen Tong” which, per their website, means “Hall of Three Cultures”— whatever that means. They reversed the first letters & appended “Bi”—  which literal means “writing instruments”, thus TWSBI.  What drew me to TWSBI was its modular construction. You could dissemble it to clean it or to change its parts. I like to tinker and TWSBI encourages that. It’s also made of clear acrylic, which I also like because you could see the inside and yes how much ink you still have. But acrylics crack. The grip section is particularly prone to this. The key is not to over tighten. O-rings on the pen sections & the included Silicon grease makes it possible. The nibs are made by Jowo—  a German nib company, which makes the nibs “European” as against a “Japanese” nib.  Basically, a “European” are wider than a “Japanese”—  a Euro Extra Fine is equivalent to a Japanese  Medium or thereabouts. 

I prefer Japanese nibs. And so I keep on going back to my Metropolitan.  I should say that I only stumbled on the Metropolitan by accident. I was really looking for a replacement of the “Birdie”— since it’s the first pen that I truly knew and used (and also for a nostalgic reason: I used the “Birdie” to take the Bar). I did find a “Birdie”, but I’ve outgrown it.  And so I got a Metropolitan— my new “Birdie”.  Like the “Birdie”, the Metro is cheap (less than P1k).  It’s a decent pen, it’s a well-performing pen that’s well built, sturdy and it’s made of, I think, brass.  It’s the only snap cap pen I have.  Ideal for jotting down short notes without the hassle of twisting open a pen’s cap.  The Metropolitan only comes in Medium, but the cool thing about cheap Pilot entry level fountain pens is that most of their nibs are interchangeable: you could buy a cheap “Penmanship” (Php350.00), of which I have three, for its Extra Fine nib or a “Plumix” (I have one) for its 1.1mm stub and swap them with your Metro Medium.  This means that your exploration and search for that grail nib won’t burn a hole on your wallet. I love Pilot for this.

    It wasn’t long before I got a Pilot Custom Heritage 912— a gift, for which I am eternally grateful.  What stands out with the 912 is its PO nib, it’s as rigid as a nail but is not scratchy at all and a bit on the weird side of things-- the tip has a slight bend that ends in a needle point. The PO, I think, means "Posting" (the nib is for writing on thin papers-- "papel de Hapon", that Japanese use for posting mails), it’s designed to write on bad paper— you could do newspaper crosswords  with it, which makes it a decent EDC pen.  I still dream of the luscious No. 15 nib of an 743 or the even bigger nib of an 149, but I’m okay without them.  I always treasure what I have and one other treasure I have is the Sailor 1911L— a 1911 “large” with a 24k gold Extra Fine nib!  It too is a gift which I shall treasure until I croak. 

The resurgence of fountain pens triggered a burst of ink colors that seemed like a revolt against the past where black, blue-black (and red) reigned for ages.  And dominated, as far as I know, by one company: Parker— maker of “Quink” (rumor has it that a Filipino named Francisco Quisimbing was the “inventor” of the ink and that the brand is an amalgam of Francisco’s surname and the word ink, Parker, however, says otherwise and that name is actually derived from the words “quick” & “ink”).  Quink is now a dinosaur.  Though constrained with what I want to spend for it & what is accessible I did dipped into the pool of the new colors that intrigued me. But I eventually went back to black.  And since I prefer Pilot fountain pens it’s a no-brainer that I went for Pilot ink as well. Pilot offers cheap ink but I went for the top of the line Iroshizuku series. My problem with it, however, is that it’s not archival.  It can’t stand water and  moisture. I prefer water proof (or at least resistant to watercolor wash), dries quick and will not go away for a long time— a bullet proof ink! And that is exactly what Noodler’s ink offers. I use mostly Noodler’s Black for that purpose.  But I also like Noodler’s Black for its “juiciness”— the ink streams out of the nib in gleaming blots before it bonds with the paper.  It’s cheap and dirty & sticks to almost anything, but I love it.  Noodler’s ink is produced by a one man operation company & the man behind it— a certain Nathan Tardiff, is quite a character. He holds strong political views & uses his company as a platform to express it.  He’s a Southern man, most likely a Republican and seems to be paranoid about his secret ink formula. I don’t care much about his politics and for what he stands for, being Asian, I’m far removed from his American biases.  I only care for the ink that he makes by hand— all by his lonesome self probably in a shed or a cave deep in the woods.  And because I don’t totally trust this dude I only use his ink on my “beater” pens— my TWSBIs and, after much hesitation, on my 917.  So far, I’ve had no problems.  I use the Iroshizuku Take Sumi on my Sailor, though (I have another even nastier permanent black ink— Platinum’s Carbon Black Ink, a matte black that is notorious for clogging up fountain pens. I use it solely on Platinum’s own special pen for it— the DP-800). The only other ink color I use is the red-orange Fuyu-Gaki on my Metro, which has since been relegated to highlighter duty. 

I’ve now reached an age when I don’t hanker for possessions rather I am grateful for what I have and have in fact given up some of my possessions to other people so they could enjoy them.  I have also given up my quest for grail pens and will simply enjoy writing with them…

Getting Smarter

    I finally got a Google Nest Mini S.  At Php2,030.00, it's a cheap ticket to the home automation/digital assistant world. At that price point-- and since I got 24/7 WIFI anyway, it was a cinch. Four years ago I checked out Amazon's Echo Dot but held off. I think the technology at that time has not matured enough yet.  I also checked out the Xiaomi's Mi Home-- which is now compatible with Apple's HomeKit, but I don't trust Chinese tech enough to jump in. I chose Google for it's search engine which, IMHO, makes its digital assistant more "intelligent" if not more "informed". Setting up the Nest Mini is patchy at best. The ios version of Google Home looks and feels like a Microsoft circa 80s software. But, beyond that annoyance the Nest Mini delivers.

    A few days after I got the Nest Mini, I got the Xiaomi Mi Box S to upgrade my outdated TV to a "smart" TV. As with the Nest Mini I don’t really need the Mi box because I could watch Netflix (and YouTube) via my Sony PS4.  But, for P2,669.00 it’s cheap. I figure it would be a faster alternative since the PS4 takes ages to load up and turn off. I wasn’t expecting much for that price but the Mi box hardware is decent and it works.  When I ordered, I wasn’t sure if the Mi box will work with the Nest mini— the information I’m getting in the internet is, at best, vague, but it did, though it’s mostly a hit and miss. Sometimes the Mi box turns on when I “Hey Google” the Nest, sometimes there’s a wait of two minutes or so before the Mi box fires up and sometimes nothing happens or the Mi box is “unavailable”. Using the Mi box remote to turn on the Mi box is more reliable, but the built-in Google Assistant is likewise a hit and miss. I’m okay with that. You get what you pay for and that’s as far I’m willing to spend for this thing and so it is what it is.

    From here I’m looking at a way to voice command my room lights. Maybe I’ll go with Chinese rip-offs of Google Assistant compatible outlets or maybe I’ll try and explore the Xiaomi system. I haven’t decided yet. For now I’m exploring what the Mi box could offer. It’s just a game… nothing serious.

The Devil is in the Details

    You've lied, cheated, stolen, and been a dick and an asshole all your life. When you die, you will be condemned to the fires of Hell. Well, at least that's what we have been told growing up.

    But, think about it for a minute. If you've been bad will you be punished and made to suffer in Hell? By the devil? I don't think so. If you've been bad then that would be, I think, "good" from the devil's point of view.  It would seem that the punishment is NOT being allowed to go to Heaven-- and that's it. God slams Heaven's Gate in your face. And since there's apparently no other place to go-- you go to Hell. But, whatever happens to you in Hell would be up to whoever is in charge there:-- the devil. 

   The Bible depicts the devil as God's "equal". Well, equal in the sense that they are always portrayed talking with each other like diplomats in a summit meeting. In the Book of Job, we are told how God and the devil-- picture them talking over coffee in Starbucks, played craps with the life of a decent man. God agreeing with and giving the devil a free hand to do whatever he wants to do with Job, short of killing him, to test the man's faith. I could not begin to imagine how God and the devil sets up a meeting. All I know is that the Bible tells us that they do meet. Are these talks deliberate and on a regular basis or do they just randomly run into each other. The Bible says that after the failed coup in Heaven, a place was carved out of eternity to contain coup leader and now ex-angel Lucifer-- the devil, and his cohorts. The Bible only mentions these two places. And since there are only two places (-- to be accurate there is one other place: purgatory. We are told that purgatory is a temporary holding area for sinners who may be considered for admission to Heaven), there must be a common border. Picture God and the devil walking up to the border-- maybe not unlike the DMZ dividing South and North Korea, and having a tête-à-tête at arm's length. Or, maybe they meet up on Earth. One thing is certain though, there is no mention in the Bible of God visiting the devil or the devil having a day tour of Heaven (though it is mentioned in the Bible that the devil gave Jesus, the Son of God, a guided tour of Hell after the latter died on the Cross). It could reasonable be concluded, therefore, that neither of the two could pop out at will on the other's realm. It would seem that neither have control beyond their turf. Thus, God runs pretty much everything in Heaven (and apparently on Earth too since it's His creation). But, for all intents and purposes Hell is run by the Devil.

   So, if you've been good all your life, the big pearly gates opens and there is this bright light. Yippie whoopee doo. You're finally home in Heaven where you will spend an eternity basking in God's eternal and unconditional love. Yeah hey. It would be like visiting your grandparent's house on a damp Christmas day as a kid. Yippie yah yeah. Boring? What do you expect? It's not like that God is going to say: hey kiddo, see that hot babe with big boobies, she's yours. Nope, that's not going to happen. Eternal bliss. Like standing on the moon. Alone. Forever.

   And if you've been a bad boy?

   I'm not sure. Everything we know about the devil is from the Bible, now that's God's book. The devil hasn't put out a book yet. It would seem that the devil has taken the high road by not bothering to respond at all (then again, he might have a hard time getting published either). The thing is if you've really been bad the Devil would have no reason to not like you. You're one of his boys. Why would he make you suffer?

   What could be in Hell then?

   Well, if we take out everyone that shouldn't be in Heaven:-- Rock n' Roll!  

My Watercolor Field Box

I bought a Winsor & Newton Professional Water Colour Field Box (the only and perhaps the last) at the National Bookstore. I bought it for Php4,200.00. Pricey for a 12-color watercolor set enclosed in a kitschy blue plastic case that's just a bit taller than a pack of 100's cigarettes. Definitely not for the serious watercolorist. But for one who only dabbles in watercolor and wants a self-contained go box for a quick watercolor sketch-- and, if you are like me, is a sucker for Gundam-like gimmicky gadget, then the Winsor & Newton Field Box is it. To be honest, I really bought it for the box.

Opening the curious little box is like unraveling an origami. There are three mixing pans-- one doubles as a water bottle and the other two are actually flaps that folds over to cover the twelve Artist Grade watercolor half pans. The top of the box is a water pot. There's a compartment for a small piece of sponge (if you prefer, you could take out the sponge and fit in two more half pans into the space) and a small brush-- a round size 0. But for all its design gimmickry, the field box is primarily a watercolor field box that works. It takes nothing to prepare: slip it into your pocket, grab a pencil and some paper and you are good to go for some discreet en plein air urban watercolor sketch.

I should say though that while the little flat white plastic bottle cum mixing pan in the field box holds enough water for a quick sketch, I usually bring more than I need-- in a small 8.5 oz. Rubbermaid plastic juice box or in a 5 oz. stainless steel hip flash with a captured top (--which I use to carry my special brew of lambanog!).  The first works well because it has a spout and you can control the flow of water with a squeeze while the second is contoured to match the curve of a hip or thigh for comfort and discretion (-- which served me well in the not too distant past for taking a swig in inappropriate situations!). I like using them both.

Also, while the included small brush works I prefer to use my own brush-- a da Vinci Maestro Series 1503 Kolinsky Red Sable Travel Brush size 5 Round. The brush is made in Germany using hair from the male winter tails of the sable “mustela sibirica”, living in the basins of the Siberian rivers Amur and Tobol. There is another brush maker-- Escoda in Barcelona, Spain, that makes brushes of equal quality (the Reserva - Kolinsky-tajmyr sable travel brush), but their brushes are even harder to come by here. The Escoda travel brush is still on my wish list and I'm sure I'll get one of those soon-- and yes, and two other sizes from da Vinci!

For paper, I now use the 5.5x3.5 inch Moleskin "Watercolor Album" (book constructed and paper sourced in China and of late is having quality consistency issues; I may not buy another moleskin); I also use the 5x8 inch Pentalic 100-percent Cotton Watercolor Journal (paper made in the Netherlands; book constructed in China; the paper has a musty smell which gets worse when it gets wet; long drying time). Recently, I bought all the Royal Langnickel Essentials 5x7 inch 190 GSM watercolor paper that Fully Booked was selling (also made in China). These papers could all be rubberbanded onto the field box.

I use a stainless steel Pilot mini mechanical pencil to do an initial sketch or outline. I have been actually using the 0.5mm 2B Pilot mechanical pencil since my college days (my handwriting is microscopic!). It's the smallest and thinnest mechanical pencil you can find (the original is only 4 inches tall). I like it because you could clip it into your shirt pocket or the neck of your T-shirt and forget about it until you need a pencil. I also had the mini fountain pen version (the set includes a mini ball pen, too). I have since lost the fountain pen and the pencil. Pilot seems to have stopped producing the mini fountain pen (maybe they still have it at the Cosmos Bazaar in Binondo?), but you can still get the mini mechanical pencil though now a bit taller than the previous version (almost 4.5 inches). I'm still looking for a replacement for the mini fountain pen. For now I use the 0.1mm "Artline Drawing System" drawing pen.

I'm getting close to my grail-watercolor set-up: a compact all-in set-up that I could hold in one hand and slip into a pocket.

Update:

Pilot Birdies are still available in Cosmos Bazaar!

The Fable of the Ant and the Grasshopper

    As a child we have all been told of the fable of the grasshopper and the ant. It tells the story of a grasshopper that has spent the warm months singing while the ant worked to store up food for the rainy days. When the rains came, the grasshopper finds itself hungry and begs the ant for food. The grasshopper is rebuked for its idleness and told to suffer the consequence of its improvidence. We were told that the fable gives us an ambivalent moral lesson about the virtues of hard work and planning for our future.

    If you ask me, I think the story is half done. If you grew up and live all your life in the Philippines, as I do, where floods brought about by torrential rains, storm surges, high tides, tidal waves and tsunamis is an in-your-face experience every year without fail you'd come to expect that when "rain" is mentioned in a story it will definitely be followed by a harrowing or hilarious "flood" story. And failing that a "rain" story seems incomplete without the "flood" part. And thus, I submit that when the rains came in the story, the ant's colony could have been flooded and as a result the ant drowned. As for the stored food, in all likelihood it would have been washed away and ended up as flotsam in the rising floodwaters-- easy picking for the hungry grasshopper.

    There is no moral lesson to be learned here. If there is anything at all to be learned it is that there are two kinds of people:-- grasshoppers and ants.

    Ants are the hard-working people who work all their life in the hope that the future would be better. Grasshoppers, on the other hand, are people to whom good things come without much effort on their part.

    Though I'm eternally gratefull for the things that have come my way I can't say that I got them with ease. I've fought and worked hard for every bit of scrap I have and so if indeed there are but two kinds of people-- then I'm probably an ant.

    Oh, one last thing since ants are scavengers the stockfile of food in the story could be-- dead grasshoppers!

    Think about that for a moment.

Reading Ulysses with Marilyn Monroe

    Damn it. I've done it! I've scaled the Everest of literary snobbery-- and survived. I've read James Joyce's Ulysses (First Vintage Books Edition, June 1986; which follows exactly the line divisions of the critical & synoptic edition of Garland Publishing, New York, June 1984).

    It's silly but what actually led me to read the book was an Eve Arnold's photograph: "Marilyn on Long Island (New York) Reading James Joyce's Ulysses" (1955, Magnum Photos, Inc. New York, U.S.A; see above). It was (I think) a magazine cut out pasted on the bare wall of the passageway leading to the bathroom of our two-storey apartment in Cubao, Quezon City (--it was already there when we moved in). Thus it may be said that it was juvenile voyeurism that led me into reading Joyce's Ulysses. I was twelve years old then.
 
     I would be in my 20s when I had my first encounter with Joyce's book. It was in a pile of pre-owned (probably stolen) books being clandestinely peddled in a back alley in Sta. Cruz, Manila. I immediately recognized it from the photograph. After handing over a few pesos for it, I opened the book to browse it (the vender wouldn't allow me to even open the book-- which was wrapped in plastic, until I've paid for it) and quickly realized I was in way over my head. The book is peppered with text I can't even pronounce much less understand (-- there are fragments of French, German, Latin, Spanish, Italian, Greek, Scandinavian and perhaps other languages I did not recognize). I tried to exchange it for another book but the toothless vender menancingly pointed to his "No Return No Exchange" sign.

   After realizing that the book is not an easy read I wondered if Marilyn Monroe was really reading it or was it just a prop. Upon reaching home I looked at the photograph again and noticed that Marilyn Monroe was on the last few pages of the book. I leafed through the pages of my copy. Ms. Monroe was apparently reading from the final episode of the book-- Molly  Bloom's soliloquy (which I later found out was reviled by the censorious as that "dirty book's" most "dirty part"). I was intrigued. But to get to the "dirty" part I have to wade through the entire book. It was much too dense for me. I gave up.

    Two decades would pass before I picked up the book again-- no, not the copy I bought, but a digital copy. Ulysses, perhaps more than any novel, was made for the digital age. Why you ask? Well, I have to read three other books to read this one book! To carry three extra books to be able to begin to understand a book seems too taxing intellectually if not physically. But, something that could be accomplished with an iPad.

    Ulysses has a reputation for density and inscrutability that makes me suspect that many who claimed to have read the book is at worst lying or at best didn't understood what the book is all about. I've tried several times in the past to read the book in its entirety but soon encounter texts that daunts me; frustrated, I give up. I have resorted to episodic rather than consecutive reading and could claim, at that point, that I have managed to read only three of the eighteen episodes (or chapters, Joyce didn't say)-- "Telemachus", "Nestor" and "Calypso"-- which introduced Leopold Bloom, the book's hero. I skipped "Proteus" which came before "Calypso" (The original text did not include episode titles, Joyce simply numbered them consecutively; the titles originate from the Gilbert schemata; Stuart Gilbert claims that Joyce referred to the episodes by their Homeric titles in the latter's correspondences to him). In "Telemachus" and "Nestor", Joyce's meager use of punctuation makes it difficult to distinguish between third-person narrative, interior monologue, and dialogue. In "Proteus", the difficulty is not on how to distinguish the narrator's (Stephen Dedalus) monologue from everything else, but more on how to follow the twists and turns of that monologue itself. Joyce's stream-of-consciousness technique, structuring and experimental prose— full of puns, parodies, and allusions, as well as its rich characterisations and broad humour, make the narrative quite hard to follow. I soon found out that I would encounter the same literary roadblocks when I picked up the book again, but I wasn't giving up this time.

   Two schools of thought exist about one’s first reading of Ulysses: some staunchly advise reading it cold without recourse to outside materials, and others recommend reading it in parallel with all the guidebooks one could tolerate-- I myself managed to move forward by the second approach for the simple reason that my education and life experiences did not equip me with the tools to decipher Ulysses.

   The good news it that there is a glut of guidebooks, summaries and annotations out there in the world wide web that could be easily procured extra-legally. The bad news is that these guidebooks could get in the way of your reading. Or worst you could end up poring over the never-ending details provided by the guidebooks, lose your way in the labyrith and totally forget about the book you're suppose to be reading in the first place. I stuck with those that came highly recommended and I settled on three:-- Harry Blamire's (1) The new Bloomsday Book, A Guide Through Ulysses, 3rd Ed. The New Bloomsday Book is a sort of Ulysses-for-Dummies book that summarizes each episode in easy to comprehend language.

   I also have Stuart Gilbert's (2) James Joyce's Ulysses, the most famous of the guidebooks. Be warned though that critics have described Gilbert's contribution as a dour book that managed to suck all the fun out of Joyce's work. And my go-to guidebook, (3) Don Gifford’s indispensable compendium of Ulyssian knowledge, Ulysses Annotated, Notes for James Joyce's Ulysses, 2nd Ed. It's a must-have for a first time reader, who-- like me, has no reference point to the world where the characters in the book live in and has a limited literary background. It's a quick reference of Joycean words and phrases. Gifford clarifies passages which otherwise would almost certainly remain hopelessly opaque to first-time readers. As bonus, Gifford provides maps of the action traced through the Dublin streets!

    I didn't just read Joyce's Ulysses, I also listened to an audio-book. I was actually reading along as I listened. Honestly, it was the only way I could go over the really incomprehensible Latin words that Joyce had put in his novel. I also listened to Joseph Campbell's "Wings of Art" lecture series on Ulysses (along with Joyce's "Portrait of a Young Man as an Artist" and "Finnegans Wake"). And to top it all off, I watched the 1967 British-American film adaptation of the novel. The film was obviously a low budget stab at an "unfilmable" book but it served me well because I had a glimpse of Dublin (though Ulysses was set in 1940, the film portrayed the city as it was in the 1960s). The infamous Molly Bloom soliloquy takes up almost a quarter of the running time of the film and perhaps as an admission of defeat, all that the film maker could muster was a voice over of the whole thing.

    It took me thirty years to read Ulysses the first time. I'll read it again but I would like to see a digital edition of the book with links to annotations, maps, summaries and commentary-- and perhaps even with an accompanying audio book that could be played as a read-along companion for the literary challenged, in a single "book". Maybe they could throw in the film adaptation as well to make for a total experience.

    In 2018, I finally got hold of a hard copy-- an actual book, of Ulysses.  The text is still unwieldy, still indecipherable.