Best of all was the skeleton dance. I would first wash all my parts at the sink, change my linen8, shave, powder, comb my hair, don my dancing pumps. Feeling abnormally light inside and out I would wind in and out of the crowd for a time to get the proper human rhythm, the weight and substance of flesh. Then I would make a beeline for the dance floor, grab a hunk of giddy flesh and begin the autumnal pirouette. It was like that I walked into the hairy Greek's place one night and ran smack10 into her. She seemed blue-black, white as chalk, ageless. There was not just the flow to and from, but the endless chute, the voluptuousness11 of intrinsic restlessness. She was mercurial12 and at the same time of a savoury weight. She had the marmoreal stare of a faun embedded13 in lava14. The time has come, I thought, to wander back from the periphery15. I made a move towards the centre, only to find the ground shifting from under my feet. The earth slid rapidly beneath my bewildered feet. I moved again out of the earth belt and behold16, my hands were full of meteoric17 flowers. I reached for her with two flaming hands but she was more elusive18 than sand. I thought of my favourite nightmares, but she was unlike anything which had made me sweat and gibber. In my delirium19 I began to prance20 and neigh. I bought frogs and mated them with toads21. I thought of the easiest thing to do, which is to die, but I did nothing. I stood still and began to petrify22 at the extremities23. That was so wonderful, so healing, so eminently24 sensible, that I began to laugh way down inside the viscera, like a hyena25 crazed with rut. Maybe I would turn into a rosetta stone! I just stood still and waited. Spring came and Fall, and then Winter. I renewed my insurance policy automatically. I ate grass and the roots of deciduous26 trees. I sat for days on end looking at the same film. Now and then I brushed my teeth. If you fired an automatic at me the bullets glanced off and made a queer tat-a-tat ricocheting against the walls. Once up a dark street, felled by a thug, I felt a knife go clean through me. It felt like a spritz bath. Strange to say, the knife left no holes in my skin. The experience was so novel that I went home and stuck knives into all parts of my body. More needle baths. I sat down, pulled all the knives out, and again I marvelled27 that there was no trace of blood, no holes, no pain. I was just about to bite into my arm when the telephone rang. It was long distance calling. I never knew who put in the calls because no one ever came to the phone. However the skeleton dance ...
Life is drifting by the show-window. I lie there like a flood-lit ham waiting for the axe28 to fall. As a matter of fact, there is nothing to fear, because everything is cut neatly29 into fine little slices and wrapped in cellophane. Suddenly all the lights of the city are extinguished and the sirens sound their warning. The city is enveloped30 in poison gas, bombs are bursting, mangled31 bodies flying through the air. There is electricity everywhere, and blood and splinters and loud-speakers. The men in the air are full of glee; those below are screaming and bellowing32. When the gas and the flames have eaten all the flesh away the skeleton dance begins. I watch from the show-window which is now dark. It is better than the sack of Rome because there is more to destroy.
Why do the skeletons dance so ecstatically, I wonder. Is it the fall of the world? Is it the dance of death which has been so often heralded33? To see millions of skeletons dancing in the snow while the city founders34 is an awesome35 sight. Will anything ever grow again? Will babes come out of the womb? Will there be food and wine? There are the men in the air, to be sure. They will come down to plunder36. There will be cholera37 and dysentery and those who were above and triumphant38 will perish like the rest. I have the sure feeling that I will be the last man on earth. I will emerge from the show-window when it is all over and walk calmly amidst the ruins. I will have the whole earth myself.
Long distance calling! To inform me that I am not utterly39 alone. Then the destruction was not complete? It's discouraging. Man is not even able to destroy himself; he can only destroy others. I am disgusted. What a malicious40 cripple! What cruel delusions41! So there are more of the species about and they will tidy up the mess and begin again. God will come down again in flesh and blood and take up the burden of guilt42. They will make music and build things in stone and write it all down in little books. Pfui! What blind tenacity43, what clumsy ambitions!
I am on the bed again. The old Greek world, the dawn of sexual intercourse44 - and Hymie! Hymie Laubscher always on the same level, looking down on the boulevard across the river. There is a lull45 in the nuptial46 feast and the clam47 fritters are brought in. Move over just a little,he says. There, like that, that's it 11 hear frogs croaking48 in the swamp outside my window. Big cemetery49 frogs nourished by the dead. They are all huddled50 together in sexual intercourse; they are croaking with sexual glee
I realize now how Hymie was conceived and brought into being. Hymie the bullfrog! His mother was at the bottom of the pack and Hymie, then an embryo51, was hidden away in her sac. It was in the early days of sexual intercourse and there were no Marquis of Queensbury rules to hinder. It was fuck and be fucked - and the devil take the hindmost. It had been that way ever since the Greeks - a blind fuck in the mud and then a quick spawn52 and then death. People are fucking on different levels but it's always in a swamp and the litter is always destined53 for the same end. When the house is torn down the bed is left standing54: the cosmosexual altar.
I was polluting the bed with dreams. Stretched out taut55 on the ferro-concrete my soul would leave its body and roam from place to place on a little trolley56 such as is used in department stores for making change. I made ideological57 changes and excursions; I was a vagabond in the country of the brain. Everything was absolutely clear to me because done in rock crystal; at every egress58 there was written in big letters ANNIHILATION. The fright of extinction59 solidified60 me;
the body became itself a piece of ferro-concrete. It was ornamented61 by a permanent erection in the best taste. I had achieved that state of vacuum so earnestly desired by certain devout62 members of esoteric cults63. I was no more. Iwas not even a personal hard-on.
It was about this time, adopting the pseudonym64 Samson Lackawanna, that I began my depredations65. The criminal instinct in me had gotten the upper hand. Whereas heretofore I had been only an errant soul, a sort of Gentile Dybbuk, now I became a flesh-filled ghost. I had taken the name which pleased me and I had only to act instinctively66. In Hong Kong, for instance, I made my entry as a book-agent. I carried a leather purse filled with Mexican dollars and I visited religiously all those Chinese who were in need of further education. At the hotel I rang for women like you would ring for whiskey and soda67. Morning I studied Tibetan in order to prepare for the journey to Lhasa. I already spoke68 Jewish fluently, and Hebrew too. I could count two rows of figures at once. It was so easy to swindle the Chinese that I went back to Manila in disgust. There I took a Mr. Rico in hand and taught him the art of selling books with no handling charges. All the profit came from ocean freight rates, but it was sufficient to keep me in luxury while it lasted.
The breath had become as much a trick as breathing. Things were not dual69 merely, but multiple. I had become a cage of mirrors reflecting vacuity70. But vacuity once stoutly71 posited72 I was at home and what is called creation was merely a job of filling up holes. The trolley conveniently carried me about from place to place and in each little side pocket of the great vacuum I dropped a ton of poems to wipe out the idea of annihilation. I had ever before me boundless73 vistas74. I began to live in the vista75, like a microscopic76 speck77 on the lens of a giant telescope. There was no night in which to rest. It was perpetual starlight on the arid78 surface of dead planets. Now and then a lake black as marble in which I saw myself walking amidst brilliant orbs79 of lights. So low hung the stars and so dazzling was the light they shed, that it seemed as if the universe were only about to be born. What rendered the impression stronger was that I was alone; not only were there no animals, no trees, no other beings, but there was not even a blade of grass, not even a dead root. In that violet incandescent80 light witihout even the suggestion of a shadow motion itself seemed to be absent. It was like a blaze of pure consciousness, thought become God. And God, for the first time in my knowledge, was dean-shaven. I was also clean-shaven, flawless, deadly accurate. I saw my image in the marble black lakes and it was diapered with stars. Stars, stars... like a clout81 between the eyes and all remembrance fast run out. I was Samson and I was Lackawanna and I was dying as one being in the ecstasy82 of full consciousness.
And now here I am, sailing down the river in my little canoe. Anything you would like to have me do I will do for you - gratis83. This is the Land of Fuck, in which there are no animals, no trees, no stars, no problems. Here the spermatazoon reigns84 supreme85. Nothing is determined86 in advance, the future is absolutely uncertain, the past is non-existent. For every million born 999,999 are doomed87 to die and never again be born. But the one that makes a home run is assured of life eternal. Life is squeezed into a seed, which is a soul. Everything has soul, including minerals, plants, lakes, mountains, rocks. Everything is sentient88, even at the lowest stage of consciousness.
Once this fact is grasped there can be no more despair. At the very bottom of the ladder, chez the spermatozoa, there is the same condition of bliss89 as at the top, chez God. God is the summation90 of all the spermatozoa come to full consciousness. Between the bottom and the top there is no stop, no halfway91 station. The river starts somewhere in the mountains and flows on into the sea. On this river that leads to God the canoe is as serviceable as the dreadnought. From the very start the journey is homeward.
Sailing down the river... Slow as the hook-worm, but tiny enough to make every bend. And slippery as an eel9 withal. What is your name? shouts some one. My name? Why just call me God - God the embryo,I go sailing on. Somebody would like to buy me a hat. What size do you wear, imbecile! he shouts. What size? Why sizeX! (And why do they always shout at me? Am I supposed to be deaf?) The hat is lost at the next cataract92. Tant pis -for the hat. Does God need a hat? God needs only to become God, more and more God. All this voyaging, all these pitfalls93, the time that passes, the scenery, and against the scenery man, trillions and trillions of things called man, like mustard seeds. Even in embryo God has no memory. The backdrop of consciousness is made up of infinitesimally minute ganglia, a coat of hair soft as wool. The mountain goat stands alone amidst the Himalayas; he doesn't question how he got to the summit. He grazes quietly amidst the decor;when the time comes he will travel down again. He keeps his muzzle94 to the ground, grubbing for the sparse95 nourishment96 which the mountain peaks afford. In this strange capricornian condition of embryosis God the he-goat ruminates97 in stolid98 bliss among the mountain peaks. The high altitudes nourish the germ of separation which will one day estrange99 him completely from the soul of man, which will make him a desolate100, rock-like father dwelling101 forever apart in a void which is unthinkable. But first come the morganatic diseases, of which we must now speak...
There is a condition of misery102 which is irremediable - because its origin is lost in obscurity. Bloomingdale's, for example, can bring about this condition. All department stores are symbols of sickness and emptiness, but Bloomingdale's is my special sickness, my incurable103 obscure malady104. In the chaos105 of Bloomingdale's there is an order, but this order is absolutely crazy to me, it is the order which I would find on the head of a pin if I were to put it under the microscope. It is the order of an accidental series of accidents accidentally conceived. This order has, above all, an odour - and it is the odour of Bloomingdale's which strikes terror into my heart. In Bloomingdale's I fall apart completely: I dribble106 on to the floor, a helpless mess of guts107 and bones and cartilage. There is the smell, not of decomposition108, but of mis-alliance. Man, the miserable109 alchemist, has welded together in a million forms and shapes, substances and essences which have nothing in common. Because in his mind there is a tumor110 which is eating him away insatiably; he has left the little canoe which was taking him blissfully down the river in order to construct a bigger, safer boat in which there may be room for every one. His labours take him so far afield that he has lost all remembrance of why he left the little canoe. The ark is so full of bric-a-brac that it has become a stationary111 building above a subway in which the smell of linoleum112 prevails and predominates. Gather together all the significance hidden away in the interstital miscellany of Bloomingdale's and put it on the head of a pin and you will have left a universe in which the grand constellations113 move without the slightest danger of collision. It is this microscopic chaos which brings on my morganatic ailments114. In the street I begin to stab horses at random115, or I lift a skirt here and there looking for a letter-box, or I put a postage stamp across a mouth, an eye, a vagina. Or I suddenly decide to climb a tall building, like a fly, and once having reached the roof I do fly with real wings and I fly and fly and fly, covering towns like Weehawken, Hoboken, Hackensack, Canarsie, Bergen Beach in the twinkling of an eye. Once you become a real schizerino flying is the easiest thing in the world; the trick is to fly with the etheric body, to leave behind in Bloomingdale's your sack of bones, guts, blood and cartilage; to fly only with your immutable116 self which, if you stop a moment to reflect, is always equipped with wings. Flying this way, in full daylight, has advantages over the ordinary night-flying which everybody indulges in. You can leave off from moment to moment, as quick and decisive as stepping on a brake; there is no difficulty in finding your other self, because the moment you leave off, you areyour other self, which is to say, the so-called whole self. Only, as the Blooming-dale experience goes to prove, this whole self, about which so much boasting has been done, falls apart very easily. The smell of linoleum, for some strange reason, will always make me fall apart and collapse117 on the floor. It is the smell of all the unnatural118 things which were glued together in me, which were assembled, so to say, by negative consent.
It is only after the third meal that the morning gifts, bequeathed by the phony alliances of the ancestors, begin to drop away and the true rock of the self, the happy rock sheers up out of the muck of the soul. With nightfall the pinhead universe begins to expand. It expands organically, from an infinitesimal nuclear speck, in the way that minerals or star-dusters form. It eats into the surrounding chaos like a rat boring through store cheese. All chaos could be gathered together on a pinhead, but the self, microscopical119 at the start, works up to a universe from any point in space. This is not the self about which books are written, but the ageless self whith has been fanned out through millenary ages to men with names and dates, the self which begins and ends as a worm, which isthe worm in the cheese called the world. Just as the slightest breeze can set a vast forest in motion so, by some unfathomable impulse from within, the rock-like self can begin to grow, and in this growth nothing can prevail against it. It's like Jack120 Frost at work, and the whole world a window-pane. No hint of labour, no sound, no struggle, no rest;
relentless121, remorseless, unremitting, the growth of the self goes on. Only two items on the bill of fare: the self and the not-self. And an eternity in which to work it out. In this eternity, which has nothing to do with time or space, there are interludes in which something like a thaw122 sets in. The formof the self breaks down, but the self, like climate, remains123. In the night the amorphous124 matter of the self assumes the most fugitive125 forms: error seeps126 in through the portholes and the wanderer is unlatched from his door. This door which the body wears, if opened out on to the world, leads to annihilation. It is the door in every fable127 out of which the magician steps; nobody has ever read of him returning home through the selfsame door. If opened inward there are infinite doors, all resembling trapdoors: no horizons are visible, no airlines, no rivers, no maps, no tickets. Each coucheis a halt for the night only, be it five minutes or ten thousand years. The doors have no handles and they never wear out. Most important to note - there is no end in sight. All these halts for the night, so to speak, are like abortive128 explorations of a myth. One can feel his way about, take bearings, observe passing phenomena129; one can even feel at home. But there is no taking root. Just at the moment when one begins to feel "established" the whole terrain130 founders, the soil underfoot is afloat, the constellations are shaken loose from their moorings, the whole known universe, including the imperishable self, starts moving silently, ominously131, shudderingly132 serene133 and unconcerned, towards an unknown, unseen destination. All the doors seem to be opening at once; the pressure is so great that an implosion134 occurs and in the swift plunge135 the skeleton bursts asunder136. It was some such gigantic collapse which Dante must have experienced when he situated137 himself in Hell; it was not a bottom which he touched, but a core, a dead centre from which time itself is reckoned. Here the comedy begins, for here it is seen to be divine.
All this by way of saying that in going through the revolving138 door of the Amarillo dance hall one night some twelve or fourteen years ago, the great event took place. The interlude which I think of as the Land of Fuck, a realm of time more than of space, is for me the equivalent of that Purgatory139 which Dante has described in nice detail. As I put my hand on the brass140 rail of the revolving door to leave the Amarillo Dance Hall, all that I had previously141 been, was, and about to be, foundered142. There was nothing unreal about it; the very time in which I was born passed away, carried off by a mightier143 stream. Just as I had previously been bundled out of the womb, so now I was shunted back to some timeless vector where the process of growth is kept in abeyance144. I passed into the world of effects. There was no fear, only a feeling of fatality145. My spine146 was socketed147 to the node; I was up against the coccyx of an implacable new world. In the plunge the skeleton blew apart, leaving the immutable ego148 as helpless as a squashed louse.
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1
delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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fauna
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| n.(一个地区或时代的)所有动物，动物区系 | |
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flora
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| n.(某一地区的)植物群 | |
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deformed
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| adj.畸形的；变形的；丑的，破相了的 | |
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presto
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| adv.急速地；n.急板乐段；adj.急板的 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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eel
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| n.鳗鲡 | |
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smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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voluptuousness
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| n.风骚，体态丰满 | |
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mercurial
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| adj.善变的，活泼的 | |
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embedded
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| a.扎牢的 | |
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lava
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| n.熔岩，火山岩 | |
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periphery
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| n.(圆体的)外面；周围 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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meteoric
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| adj.流星的，转瞬即逝的，突然的 | |
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elusive
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| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
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delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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prance
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| v.（马）腾跃，(人)神气活现地走 | |
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toads
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆( toad的名词复数 ) | |
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petrify
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| vt.使发呆；使…变成化石 | |
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extremities
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| n.端点( extremity的名词复数 )；尽头；手和足；极窘迫的境地 | |
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eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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hyena
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| n.土狼，鬣狗 | |
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deciduous
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| adj.非永久的；短暂的；脱落的；落叶的 | |
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marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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heralded
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| v.预示( herald的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
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founders
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| n.创始人( founder的名词复数 ) | |
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awesome
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| adj.令人惊叹的，难得吓人的，很好的 | |
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plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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cholera
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| n.霍乱 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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delusions
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| n.欺骗( delusion的名词复数 )；谬见；错觉；妄想 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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tenacity
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| n.坚韧 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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nuptial
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| adj.婚姻的，婚礼的 | |
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clam
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| n.蛤，蛤肉 | |
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croaking
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的现在分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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embryo
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| n.胚胎，萌芽的事物 | |
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spawn
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| n.卵，产物，后代，结果；vt.产卵，种菌丝于，产生，造成；vi.产卵，大量生产 | |
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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trolley
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| n.手推车，台车；无轨电车；有轨电车 | |
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57
ideological
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| a.意识形态的 | |
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58
egress
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| n.出去；出口 | |
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59
extinction
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| n.熄灭，消亡，消灭，灭绝，绝种 | |
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60
solidified
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| （使）成为固体，（使）变硬，（使）变得坚固( solidify的过去式和过去分词 )； 使团结一致； 充实，巩固； 具体化 | |
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61
ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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62
devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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63
cults
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| n.迷信( cult的名词复数 )；狂热的崇拜；（有极端宗教信仰的）异教团体 | |
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64
pseudonym
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| n.假名，笔名 | |
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65
depredations
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| n.劫掠，毁坏( depredation的名词复数 ) | |
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66
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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67
soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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68
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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69
dual
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| adj.双的；二重的，二元的 | |
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70
vacuity
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| n.(想象力等)贫乏，无聊，空白 | |
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71
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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72
posited
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| v.假定，设想，假设( posit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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74
vistas
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| 长条形景色( vista的名词复数 )； 回顾； 展望； （未来可能发生的）一系列情景 | |
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75
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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76
microscopic
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| adj.微小的，细微的，极小的，显微的 | |
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77
speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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78
arid
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| adj.干旱的；(土地)贫瘠的 | |
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79
orbs
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| abbr.off-reservation boarding school 在校寄宿学校n.球，天体，圆形物( orb的名词复数 ) | |
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80
incandescent
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| adj.遇热发光的， 白炽的，感情强烈的 | |
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81
clout
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| n.用手猛击；权力，影响力 | |
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82
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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83
gratis
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| adj.免费的 | |
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84
reigns
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| n.君主的统治( reign的名词复数 )；君主统治时期；任期；当政期 | |
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85
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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86
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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87
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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88
sentient
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| adj.有知觉的，知悉的；adv.有感觉能力地 | |
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89
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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90
summation
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| n.总和；最后辩论 | |
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91
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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92
cataract
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| n.大瀑布，奔流，洪水，白内障 | |
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93
pitfalls
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| （捕猎野兽用的）陷阱( pitfall的名词复数 )； 意想不到的困难，易犯的错误 | |
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94
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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95
sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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96
nourishment
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| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
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97
ruminates
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| v.沉思( ruminate的第三人称单数 )；反复考虑；反刍；倒嚼 | |
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98
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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99
estrange
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| v.使疏远，离间，使离开 | |
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100
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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101
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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102
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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103
incurable
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| adj.不能医治的，不能矫正的，无救的；n.不治的病人，无救的人 | |
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104
malady
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| n.病，疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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105
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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106
dribble
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| v.点滴留下，流口水；n.口水 | |
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107
guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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108
decomposition
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| n. 分解, 腐烂, 崩溃 | |
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109
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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110
tumor
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| n.（肿）瘤，肿块(英)tumour | |
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111
stationary
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| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
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112
linoleum
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| n.油布，油毯 | |
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113
constellations
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| n.星座( constellation的名词复数 )；一群杰出人物；一系列（相关的想法、事物）；一群（相关的人） | |
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114
ailments
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| 疾病（尤指慢性病），不适( ailment的名词复数 ) | |
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115
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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116
immutable
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| adj.不可改变的，永恒的 | |
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117
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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118
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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119
microscopical
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| adj.显微镜的，精微的 | |
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120
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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121
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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122
thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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123
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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124
amorphous
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| adj.无定形的 | |
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125
fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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126
seeps
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| n.（液体）渗( seep的名词复数 )；渗透；渗出；漏出v.（液体）渗( seep的第三人称单数 )；渗透；渗出；漏出 | |
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127
fable
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| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
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128
abortive
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| adj.不成功的，发育不全的 | |
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129
phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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130
terrain
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| n.地面，地形，地图 | |
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131
ominously
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| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
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132
shudderingly
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133
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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134
implosion
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| n.向内破裂，内爆 | |
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135
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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136
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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137
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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138
revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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139
purgatory
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| n.炼狱；苦难；adj.净化的，清洗的 | |
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140
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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141
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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142
foundered
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| v.创始人( founder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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143
mightier
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| adj. 强有力的，强大的，巨大的 adv. 很，极其 | |
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144
abeyance
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| n.搁置，缓办，中止，产权未定 | |
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145
fatality
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| n.不幸，灾祸，天命 | |
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146
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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147
socketed
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| v.把…装入托座（或插座），给…装上托座（或插座）( socket的过去分词 )；[高尔夫球]用棒头承口部位击（球） | |
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148
ego
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| n.自我，自己，自尊 | |
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