On fever

"And the earth hung on the line of the horizon, an enormous looming
boundless polenta of cornmeal still cooking in the sky and almost falling
upon
him, gurgling with fevered and feverish fevery ferocity in boiling
boils on the
boil, plop, ploppity plop. The fact is that when you have the
fever, ou become
polenta, and the lights you see all come from the boiling
of your head"
/Eco

I´m gonna lay of Eco for a while now. I get far too few influences from the real outside world not to risk over-indulging in his linguistic labyrinths.