"Eh?" Randolph beginning to regain his air of phlegmatic competence. "How's that?"
* * * * * * * * * *
With the emergency at an end, Randolph straightens his uniform, slicks back his hair, and is ready to get his airship back on course.
In other words: after the bout of slapstick took control of the narrative, Pynchon composes himself and is ready to get back to the highbrow thematic qualities in which he started this chapter with all that talk about dark conjugates and daylit fictions and the working class being treated like cattle in a stockyard.
I placed these three sentences in one post because they could easily have been one line with the proper punctuation and also because I can't write an entire blog entry on "Eh?" or "How's that?"
No, no. That's not true. I'm positive I could. But it would probably wind up being a story about the first movie I ever remember seeing (Race for Your Life, Charlie Brown at a drive-in which I don't remember as much as I remember watching the beginning of Star Wars on another screen before having to turn around and watch the cartoon).
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