where the writers are
A seatful for a million dollars

There is literary merit in the fact that J D Salinger’s toilet seat is up for auction. Think about the ideas many creative people say they get when they are digesting more than thoughts. Is there any truth in this phenomenon?

As a somewhat creative person, I do come up with the most imaginative description of post culinary indulgences while responding to pathology tests. One doctor even guessed I was a writer based on the poetic justice I did to what appeared to be a drab report that exposed me not only to amoebae and bacteria but also to a future reader.

Given this little episode in the nascent stages when my literary yearnings got a boost, I can conjecture with a degree of certitude that it has to do with the seating arrangement.

It is said that Rodin’s The Thinker is in such an inspired pose. With feet on the ground, while the left side of the brain is occupied in logical activity, the pressure reaches the right side and sparks off the dance of the cerebrum. There is also the psychological fact that something is leaving you; although the departure is welcome in this case, it harks back to a past. This becomes the manure to fill the fertile soil of the future. The mind suddenly has ideas and on occasion they could be psychedelic. It is quite akin to a state of deliriousness as closure is being reached.

The difference between a scientist and an artiste is that the former can soak in a bath tub, think up something and run out stark naked screaming ‘Eureka’ because he has a hypothesis; the latter, due to the peculiar task at hand cannot leave until it is over and therefore there is time to ruminate and think it through. You can later always say that you were preoccupied with your Muse.

- - -

“I'm the most terrific liar you ever saw in your life. It's awful. If I'm on my way to the store to buy a magazine, even, and somebody asks me where I'm going, I'm liable to say I'm going to the opera. It's terrible.”

(Holden Caulfield in Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye)

6 Comment count
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I'm offering my pre-fame

I'm offering my pre-fame toidy seat to any interested Red Room denizens.


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Hello Eric, we are in

Hello Eric, we are in receipt of your kind offer. Since it is akin to the calm before the storm we would appreciate a two-year guarantee on the product, with limited liability for notoriety in the stead of fame. We are emboldened by the fact that you are flush with confidence and see both as two sides of water beneath the bridge.


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why not a potful?

Why not auction the entire commode?

Given the amount of s--t that passes for writing, never mind literature, these days, the porcelain vessel itself might be seen as the new Holy Grail.


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Paul, I believe it was

Paul, I believe it was ripped off (how wonderdul the word is) so they've got to market what they have. I doubt if a writer will bid for it, but should that happen it would be easy enough to regurgitate history.


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Would the exercise of

Would the exercise of composing on the toilet make one a crappy writer?

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Not if you can bow'l them

Not if you can bow'l them over, Chris.