An artist wants to write all the stories in the world. She meets a cartographer and an inventor. The inventor makes a machine to make old stories new. The new stories are stranger than the originals.
Huginn (“thought”) and Muninn (“memory”) are a pair of ravens that fly all over the world, and bring information to the god Odin.
Little Hans, whose father had been sending Freud reports about his son’s interest in sexual matters—suddenly developed a phobia (an infantile neurosis). He refused to leave the house and go into the street for fear of being bitten by a horse.
They began to circulate the theory of the foreign body that had penetrated the social fabric and had to be surgically removed.
Their dream: nothing less than the establishment of a colony from which an advance contingent of Aryans could forge a claim to the entire South American continent. But the continent had other plans.
A group of people have been reading a book together for thirty years. They have been reading it again and again, with each journey from the first to the last page taking eleven years. Once they arrive at the last word, a very enigmatic “the,” they begin again with the first word, “riverrun.” The text appears inexhaustible, its interpretation endless, the inconclusive nature of the reading exciting. The world seems to cease existing outside this reading room or, perhaps, it exists because of it.
An Israelite man traveling with his concubine refuses to lodge in a foreign city, “that is not of the children of Israel”; He heads instead to the next Israelite town, where the locals attempt to rape him, and do in fact rape and slaughter his concubine. In retaliation, the people of Israel massacre the entire tribe of Benjamin, leaving only a handful of survivors so that there will not be “one tribe lacking in Israel”.