The sad tale of “Sex in Helvetica”

I spent much of this morning thinking about making a tumblelog called “Sex in Helvetica”. It would present classic lines of sex in literature, in the cool, clinical font, on a white background. It was to be amazing. Then I realised (a) I couldn’t tihnk of any classic lines of sex from literature; and (b) I don’t have Helvetica.

I managed to cobble together a start post using Coolvetica and Nerve.com’s “The Naughty Bits” column. But it just wasn’t right. So below, as a one-off, you can find the flushed-out fetus of the aborted act of genius that was to be “Sex in Helvetica”. It’s an extract from Athur Miller’s Tropic of Capricorn.

Ask evry person if hes heard the story, and tell it strong and clear if he has not, that once there was a fleeting wisp of glory called Sex in Helvetica.

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