This is a literary experiment: today, 16th of june, is Bloom's day, let's retweet Ulysses from Joyce together! You can find more details about how it works in the about page.
Written hastily by @chanezon during a few sleepless nights in Singapore.
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Latest Tweeted fragment
Gob, he near burnt his fingers with the butt of his old cigar.
--Robbed, says he. Plundered. Insulted. Persecuted. Taking what belongs
to us by right. At this very moment, says he, putting up his fist, sold
by auction in Morocco like slaves or cattle.
--Are you talking about the new Jerusalem? says the citizen.
--I'm talking about injustice, says Bloom.
--Right, says John Wyse. Stand up to it then with force like men.
That's an almanac picture for you. Mark for a softnosed bullet. Old
lardyface standing up to the business end of a gun. Gob, he'd adorn a
sweepingbrush, so he would, if he only had a nurse's apron on him. And
then he collapses all of a sudden, twisting around all the opposite, as
limp as a wet rag.