Saturday XLIX: Inner Dark · 11 April 2008
A secret reader sent the owls. How much does this delight me? Thank you. They brew a good daily sencha, too.
Also exciting: the Black Keys new record is hot! Yes. Even without headphones, I respond well to the rhythm and attitude of the Akron blues. It is even helping me get my mind off of Jack.
You know I have been madly devoted to Jack for the right reasons all along. But these smug, preachy-ponderous, oh-so-disaffected lyrics on the recent Raconteurs record. What are you saying, my Pasty Prince? I just wonder if you’ve been this way all along but I haven’t seen it. I’ve been blinded by your piano riffs and your swaggering hips.
As usual, the The One Who Will Not Be Named guides my listening. The OWWNBN threads my drive time with new sounds and, measuredly, fleshes out my understanding of the history in delicious ways. I am Potter Stewart—I know it when I hear it—to his Aristotle—types, kinds, classes: he sees all the patterns and shares as much as I can take of what he knows. Which isn’t that large a fraction, given my limitations.
I am mostly done with consuming culture, but only beginning to appreciate sound. This is big. Music is a big deal.
Anyway… I am the editor this weekend. I freelanced a lot of research and editing the first years of grad school, and still read final drafts for a scholar in Beijing and one in Tel Aviv. Today it’s the Jewish historian, who works on FDRs generous aid and asylum for children of the Holocaust and contrasts this with his refusal to do anything about simultaneous lynchings in the South. God that’s a hard side of FDR to see.
You might know, if you're close, last year I had a lot of dark weekends. Dark, I tell you. The different relationship to time on those days, the non- practicing on Saturdays, the dissertation-induced neuroses that threaten every PhD candidate… maybe these were part of what put me into disconsolate, angsty negativity. Because there are emotional-intellectual sources of that suffering, but also practical sources. What is different a year later, when weekends are perfect? Without trying, I’ve habituated some really nice routines—the esoteric stuff I’m hesitant to mention, plus concerted long sleeps. That's just about regulating my energy. But too, there’s this sense that the present era, which I love so much, might end soon. How could Saturdays and Sundays ever be so good without these specific routines, these specific people, this one place? Without my own life now? If these weekends were mine forever, and this little sadness for its eventual end were not in me, I am not sure I’d be quite so happy.
Links? Still doing this? Just three.
● Soros on what we’re in for. He predicted this in a book a decade ago, but says the conditions are even riper this time. And he’s more than a financial writer—his perspective is historical and sees the whole economy, not just the credit crunch. (Review.)
●This isn't The Road (phew), but it's what I'm finally taking from my nightstand-pile and reading this weekend.
● By the way, I keep forgetting to introduce you to Eliza. Eliza is a therapist-bot. I will leave it to you to sort out the implications.
Posted by (0v0)
Categories: astanga yoga
, esoteric shit
, evolution
, having a body
, sound
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Aaahh. The innocence
Posted by: Gregor · Apr 12, 03:09 AM · #
I love Eliza. LOL! She’s very well-programmed. I feel soothed by her careful attention to my issues.
Posted by: karen · Apr 12, 06:47 AM · #
Oh, I’d forgotten about Eliza… Thanks for reminding me – she’s totally insane, yet hilarious!
Posted by: chitta vritti · Apr 12, 07:55 AM · #
Aw, Eliza. Good memories. We had to program one when I was at Uni. Mine wasn’t very bright :-D
Posted by: V · Apr 12, 09:45 AM · #
Hi (0v0)
How kind of the secret reader to send the owl ceramics. They’re cute. Oh, and talking to Eliza is fun, though she’s hard to hang up on. I was telling her I should go to bed not be on the computer. She wanted me to elaborate and when I didn’t she thought I was being negative. Nite.
Arturo
Posted by: arturo · Apr 12, 08:12 PM · #
Dark weekends! How can weekends be dark? When I was a graduate student, I left all the darkness for the weekdays. If my weekends were dark as well, I am afraid my sanity would be even more damaged than it is now. :D
Posted by: Alfia · Apr 13, 06:44 AM · #
“Does it please you to believe I am proud to say you knew elmo before he got famous?”
This was Eliza’s response when I fed her Yo-Yo Ma’s innocent line I’m proud to say I knew Elmo before he got famous.
Yes, she is clearly insane no matter what I tell her.
At least Alfia’s sanity is somewhat intact.
Posted by: (0v0) · Apr 13, 11:46 AM · #
Beautiful Owls! I have not seen Eliza before.
FDR did a lot of wonderful things but there is definitely another side there.
I surmise that you are probably an excellent editor.
Posted by: Anna · Apr 13, 02:12 PM · #
God, I hate that Eliza bitch. I can’t stand her. We can never ever be friends. Oh, and she says I’m negative when ever I ask her why she can’t give me a straight answer.
Posted by: Susan · Apr 13, 03:13 PM · #
Oh my dear you are so FUSSY!
I bet Eliza could be friends with you if she would learn how to (1) make cake or (2) be negative. Maybe V could write a really negative shit-talking Eliza.
Meantime, no pain for cakes, eh?
Posted by: (0v0) · Apr 13, 03:30 PM · #
I tried eliza and I got a repetitive loop with any question or statement. It/Her: “are you sure?” It/me: “yes”. And so on and so forth. From this I deduct that I no longer guess that I am sure; I know that I am sure (after a couple of dozen times). Just what am I sure of? Just about every feeling I can describe or every question I can ponder. Is this what “feel the feelings” means or perhaps its a nice way to get down and get some Buddhi?
Posted by: es&j · Apr 13, 07:22 PM · #
Eliza has GOT to be a man. I have a hate/love relationship with him.
Your owls are adorable. I have a mug just like that, and also a brown owl mug, but no pitcher.
Posted by: katie · Apr 14, 01:42 PM · #