Apropos of my post about the reasons why I will not be writing for The Hungarian Quarterly in the foreseeable future it is very much worth noting that the HQ, whose archives used to be open online, has now disappeared from the net.
It may be that the site is simply being revamped, but it wouldn't surprise me if it was taken off for much the same reasons that it was taken over.
Best tuck it away and out of sight. It never happened. Everything is for the best in the best of all possible worlds. As in (from Bad Machine)
The Best of All Possible Worlds
The best of all possible worlds is asleep
having turned in for the night.
It is dreaming of snow a mile deep.
The best of all possible worlds contemplates
its own reflection in the mirror,
its eyes two enormous plates.
The best of all possible worlds is at the bus stop
in a steady shower of rain
watching water fall, drop by drop.
The best of all possible worlds is tired
of waiting for the promised improvements.
It has run out of things to be desired.
The best of all possible worlds becomes
a nervous, clumsy abstraction
all fingers and thumbs.
The best of all possible worlds is a dark star
in a universe of its own making,
muttering: things are fine as they are.
Things are fine as they are, says the sun on the wall
Things are fine as they are, says the cold in the bones
Things are fine as they are in the best of all possible worlds.
One needs to watch such spaces. I expect to see more of them.
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