And frigging life settled down right on his chest, with its huge ass and weighing tons and tons. Forcing exhalations to the point of panic. And it made him appreciate the light-switch immediacy of death...
But he could childishly never accept that his thoughts would also end with the light switch...as if they were somehow disconnected from the watery flesh of his brain. Idiot child.
...Anyway, the incessant weight on the chest and uncontrollable panic are de minimis when coupled with the dozen or so lightning flash moments of bone-melting happiness that the weight, life, grants. And so he pours himself into his wife's lap and smiles through his tears under her hands on his head.
14 November 2010
quote:
Twain on "progress" and "contribution" of man...
"'you perceive,' he said, 'that you have made continual progress. Cain did his murder with a club; the Hebrews did their murders with javelins and swords; the Greeks and Romans added protective armor and the fine arts of military organization and generalship; the Christian has added guns and gun-powder; a few centuries from now he will have so greatly improved the deadly effectiveness of his weapons of slaughter [the atom bomb?] that all men will confess that without Christian civilization war must have remained a poor and trifling thing to the end of time.'"
- Mark Twain, 'The Mysterious Stranger', c1910 -
he had just finished a collection of Mark Twain's short works - stories, letters, speeches, etc. 'Old Times on the Mississippi' had taught him something, 'The Notorious Jumping Frog of Calaveras County' had made him smile legitimately, 'The Private History of a Campaign that Failed' had made him laugh out loud, 'The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg' had made him think, and 'The Mysterious Stranger' had blown him away, igniting a reconsideration of tenets.
The whole act - of reading by one's volition an author that had been forced upon him and ignored as a student and being genuinely and consistently moved was itself a moving experience.
so he sat back and staring at the junction of his ceiling and far wall with a knowing smile on his face, and appreciated for the first time the John Lennon quote: "The first time you hear (Bob) Dylan, you feel like you're the first person to discover him."
...and but so then he ran off to tell all his literary friends about the magical Samuel Clemens...
"'you perceive,' he said, 'that you have made continual progress. Cain did his murder with a club; the Hebrews did their murders with javelins and swords; the Greeks and Romans added protective armor and the fine arts of military organization and generalship; the Christian has added guns and gun-powder; a few centuries from now he will have so greatly improved the deadly effectiveness of his weapons of slaughter [the atom bomb?] that all men will confess that without Christian civilization war must have remained a poor and trifling thing to the end of time.'"
- Mark Twain, 'The Mysterious Stranger', c1910 -
he had just finished a collection of Mark Twain's short works - stories, letters, speeches, etc. 'Old Times on the Mississippi' had taught him something, 'The Notorious Jumping Frog of Calaveras County' had made him smile legitimately, 'The Private History of a Campaign that Failed' had made him laugh out loud, 'The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg' had made him think, and 'The Mysterious Stranger' had blown him away, igniting a reconsideration of tenets.
The whole act - of reading by one's volition an author that had been forced upon him and ignored as a student and being genuinely and consistently moved was itself a moving experience.
so he sat back and staring at the junction of his ceiling and far wall with a knowing smile on his face, and appreciated for the first time the John Lennon quote: "The first time you hear (Bob) Dylan, you feel like you're the first person to discover him."
...and but so then he ran off to tell all his literary friends about the magical Samuel Clemens...
05 November 2010
a friend of his always carried around an elastic band. in his hands, stretching it between his fingers and out into an oblong ellipse and so on, and on his right wrist when not in use. probably a 70/30 use to non-use ratio. this latest one was red originally but now nearing a shade of pink for fading. he had to change them often - once or twice a week (likely due to the ratio) because the edges get all frayed and the elasticity weakened and stiffened and cracked and so on. he let people know that the reason for the elastic was "as a reminder of tighter times" and no one ever knew what he meant, not even his closest friends - who never even bothered to ask in the first place because they knew him well enough to entirely not give a shit.
he chewed gum too, as you probably already imagined him to be the type of person to do. mostly cinnamon because not many people like cinnamon gum so he never really ever has to share any of his pack with anyone. he chews two at a time - like most annoying cinnamon gum chewers do anyway. but does not put them both in at once. he instead slowly unwraps the first, folds the piece in half, and takes a bite of it, then the second bite of the first piece. then puts the pack of gum away but never for more than a minute before taking out a second piece and inserting it the same way as the first.
with the elastic and the gum he sounded like a bowl of rice krispies. and he always dropped these non sequiturs like "fuck the city" or "objectivity is a falsehood" that he thought philosophical but no one gave a shit about.
he also loved those movies that chicks dig. the ones that start as cartoons during the opening credits and segue perfectly from cartoon to some "real life" city scene for the opening act. and the cartoon woman character turns into a real woman, the main character, but a fuller shaped and with more realistic hip-to-waist ratio version than the cartoon.
he chewed gum too, as you probably already imagined him to be the type of person to do. mostly cinnamon because not many people like cinnamon gum so he never really ever has to share any of his pack with anyone. he chews two at a time - like most annoying cinnamon gum chewers do anyway. but does not put them both in at once. he instead slowly unwraps the first, folds the piece in half, and takes a bite of it, then the second bite of the first piece. then puts the pack of gum away but never for more than a minute before taking out a second piece and inserting it the same way as the first.
with the elastic and the gum he sounded like a bowl of rice krispies. and he always dropped these non sequiturs like "fuck the city" or "objectivity is a falsehood" that he thought philosophical but no one gave a shit about.
he also loved those movies that chicks dig. the ones that start as cartoons during the opening credits and segue perfectly from cartoon to some "real life" city scene for the opening act. and the cartoon woman character turns into a real woman, the main character, but a fuller shaped and with more realistic hip-to-waist ratio version than the cartoon.
the thing about this guy was that he ate his boogers. licked the wet ones right off his finger with a stiff tongue and scraped the dry, harder ones onto the back of his bottom front teeth.
he also indulged himself often in children snacks, though this was of considerably less social consequence. those gummy, sugary fruit snacks that come in little packs of 10 or so - red, orange, green, yellow, and sometimes blue. he would punish three or four packs right in a row. open the pack, pour the entire contents into his palm, and eat colors at a time.
he was doing 'Bron-Y-Aur Stomp' from III on repeat. everyone knows the story (from Nehemiah) where the inventor of stringed instruments upon hearing Zeppelin III for the first time shakes G awake from a nap in heaven to say "Behold, man approaches divinity!" and G just rolls over.
he generally tries to listen to full albums - enjoying the art of piecing together 10 - 15 songs into a coherent unit. many of the artists he enjoyed crafted albums. as opposed to singles and filler and he felt as if he was ignoring an important piece of what they had worked so hard at if the album was not enjoyed as an album. but there were those times man when immediate gratification ruled the fort and there was only one perfect song to be enjoyed for that moment. and caution and restraint be damned, that song was getting enjoyed and enjoyed probably five or six times before it was done with him. he loved the ones, songs, that exercised his emotions. a rolling mania being his favorite and the most enjoyable.
man. he was in a bit of spot where creativity was just not coming to him and so he supplanted with boogers and mediocrity.
he also indulged himself often in children snacks, though this was of considerably less social consequence. those gummy, sugary fruit snacks that come in little packs of 10 or so - red, orange, green, yellow, and sometimes blue. he would punish three or four packs right in a row. open the pack, pour the entire contents into his palm, and eat colors at a time.
he was doing 'Bron-Y-Aur Stomp' from III on repeat. everyone knows the story (from Nehemiah) where the inventor of stringed instruments upon hearing Zeppelin III for the first time shakes G awake from a nap in heaven to say "Behold, man approaches divinity!" and G just rolls over.
he generally tries to listen to full albums - enjoying the art of piecing together 10 - 15 songs into a coherent unit. many of the artists he enjoyed crafted albums. as opposed to singles and filler and he felt as if he was ignoring an important piece of what they had worked so hard at if the album was not enjoyed as an album. but there were those times man when immediate gratification ruled the fort and there was only one perfect song to be enjoyed for that moment. and caution and restraint be damned, that song was getting enjoyed and enjoyed probably five or six times before it was done with him. he loved the ones, songs, that exercised his emotions. a rolling mania being his favorite and the most enjoyable.
man. he was in a bit of spot where creativity was just not coming to him and so he supplanted with boogers and mediocrity.
age-ed and sick-lee
aged and sickly he sat and read from the yellowed pages of his own journals.
"Hindsightal lessons to a more junior self:
- read this again and again: A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole.
- listen to this three times before passing judgment: Kid A by Radiohead.
- do not quote from this movie during youthful, precoital relationships: The Big Lebowski.
- appreciate this band's ability to force emotion into sinusoidal waves: Sigur Ros.
- let this change your life: Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand.
- and let this change it back: Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky.
- note the catalog of an artist or author and study its progression.
- enjoy a relationship with words.
- appreciate genius.
- listen to music through headphones.
- lay with your wife."
"Hindsightal lessons to a more junior self:
- read this again and again: A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole.
- listen to this three times before passing judgment: Kid A by Radiohead.
- do not quote from this movie during youthful, precoital relationships: The Big Lebowski.
- appreciate this band's ability to force emotion into sinusoidal waves: Sigur Ros.
- let this change your life: Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand.
- and let this change it back: Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky.
- note the catalog of an artist or author and study its progression.
- enjoy a relationship with words.
- appreciate genius.
- listen to music through headphones.
- lay with your wife."
18 October 2010
hiatal
"my head is on backwards," he said.
he was doing Buckley 'Mystery White Boy'. Buckley was wailing Oedipal about his father not hearing him and "mother dear, the world's gone cold, no one cares about love anymore..."
"it is absolutely imperative for this particular song to be played at peak volume." he, our hero, spoke like that sometimes.
had been spending time thinking about some philosophical relationship between parallel lines and contradictions. something about euclidean and non-euclidean geometry and what they meant for the different levels of contradiction - contradiction to one's own knowledge, to current Knowledge, and then to all possible KNOWLEDGE. Euclid's claim of parallel lines turned out to be a contradiction but was something of a second order truth - it was true to his knowledge and true to world Knowledge at the time of the claim but was later proven false to KNOWLEDGE as hyperbolic and elliptical geometry took form. a third order truth being impossible to actually prove.
our hero wanted eponymy as well.
Anyway, on Buckley: Music wailed, a painful visceral scream upon hearing he had drown. Sighing, music then said "Ah, we really lost one there. Thank god though, we had the chance to witness that. Magic."
he was doing Buckley 'Mystery White Boy'. Buckley was wailing Oedipal about his father not hearing him and "mother dear, the world's gone cold, no one cares about love anymore..."
"it is absolutely imperative for this particular song to be played at peak volume." he, our hero, spoke like that sometimes.
had been spending time thinking about some philosophical relationship between parallel lines and contradictions. something about euclidean and non-euclidean geometry and what they meant for the different levels of contradiction - contradiction to one's own knowledge, to current Knowledge, and then to all possible KNOWLEDGE. Euclid's claim of parallel lines turned out to be a contradiction but was something of a second order truth - it was true to his knowledge and true to world Knowledge at the time of the claim but was later proven false to KNOWLEDGE as hyperbolic and elliptical geometry took form. a third order truth being impossible to actually prove.
our hero wanted eponymy as well.
Anyway, on Buckley: Music wailed, a painful visceral scream upon hearing he had drown. Sighing, music then said "Ah, we really lost one there. Thank god though, we had the chance to witness that. Magic."
02 October 2010
1/2
these two are brothers - having, on average, 1/2 of their genes in common and what not or something and sharing other things too, I'm sure.
this one time at a cousin's wedding - everyone is clapping after the father announces the mr. and mrs. for the first time. and so within the duration of the clap where everyone is still clapping each of them independently by himself decides that he, the individual, is going to sound off the absolute last clap among the 200 people in the church. but not knowing the other has also himself decided to have the absolute last clap, they both clap and clap and clap as all the other clappers stop, all after a perfectly reasonable duration of collective clapping. and then it's awkward. but so then they both laugh, while still clapping, when they realize silently that the other without corroboration but sitting right next to him has decided the same stupid thing that he has decided - to be the last clapper - but the laugh is internal and exposed only in a brief smirk by each (both of which are recognized but neither of which, the smirks, is acknowledged) because laughing would reveal the ingenious plot to the church but laughing or smirking because now in order to sound that last clap he will have to beat out his own brother.
anyway, the younger beats the older. and they tell their mother this at the reception and she says something like "you two are sick." and they laugh even harder.
and they both, the brothers, have this unreasonable love of T-shirts with breast pockets, so-called pocket T's. and so the older wears his clothes a little longer (from purchase to disposal) than the typical adult male so his pocket T's are stained and threadbare - to say the least, via two factual but relatively polite adjectives because frankly, the pocket T's he wears around are basically disgraceful and should barely be considered clothing - and garner better public reaction but the younger has like a dozen of them or 15 from some spending spree at some upper middle class faux vintage clothing outlet which resulted in all these enviable pocket T's of various colors including brown and one destroyed red. and so, whichever brother is wearing the pocket T in the most inappropriate situation (e.g., a dinner party, a family reunion, a wedding etc.) has the upper hand for that day.
and so the brothers' sister is getting married soon...pocket T tuxes and extended applause are likely.
i mean these two are brothers - sharing inside jokes and other nuances that are mostly unsaid and informally established.
this one time at a cousin's wedding - everyone is clapping after the father announces the mr. and mrs. for the first time. and so within the duration of the clap where everyone is still clapping each of them independently by himself decides that he, the individual, is going to sound off the absolute last clap among the 200 people in the church. but not knowing the other has also himself decided to have the absolute last clap, they both clap and clap and clap as all the other clappers stop, all after a perfectly reasonable duration of collective clapping. and then it's awkward. but so then they both laugh, while still clapping, when they realize silently that the other without corroboration but sitting right next to him has decided the same stupid thing that he has decided - to be the last clapper - but the laugh is internal and exposed only in a brief smirk by each (both of which are recognized but neither of which, the smirks, is acknowledged) because laughing would reveal the ingenious plot to the church but laughing or smirking because now in order to sound that last clap he will have to beat out his own brother.
anyway, the younger beats the older. and they tell their mother this at the reception and she says something like "you two are sick." and they laugh even harder.
and they both, the brothers, have this unreasonable love of T-shirts with breast pockets, so-called pocket T's. and so the older wears his clothes a little longer (from purchase to disposal) than the typical adult male so his pocket T's are stained and threadbare - to say the least, via two factual but relatively polite adjectives because frankly, the pocket T's he wears around are basically disgraceful and should barely be considered clothing - and garner better public reaction but the younger has like a dozen of them or 15 from some spending spree at some upper middle class faux vintage clothing outlet which resulted in all these enviable pocket T's of various colors including brown and one destroyed red. and so, whichever brother is wearing the pocket T in the most inappropriate situation (e.g., a dinner party, a family reunion, a wedding etc.) has the upper hand for that day.
and so the brothers' sister is getting married soon...pocket T tuxes and extended applause are likely.
i mean these two are brothers - sharing inside jokes and other nuances that are mostly unsaid and informally established.
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