these are the things I love:
waking up in the evening. writing through the night in bed. getting up at 5:30 to shower and put on clothes. the feel of how those clothes hang around my shoulders and waist, the feeling of fitting into their worn corners and wrinkles and folds. all of it evidence: footprints my physical shell left behind.
putting on my good brown boots. it's important to have some feeling of purpose as you pull on your shoes: otherwise where you go won't mean anything. even if it's just a feeling, and there's really nowhere special to go, the fact that you feel it might compel you to make some place of your own. sometimes that won't end in disaster, which is important.
leaving my dorm, walking down to the dining commons to eat what for everybody else is breakfast. waiting for my omelette to finish. thinking of what the chef thinks of me. does he think this is the first meal I'll eat today? is he trying to wake me up? how many misgivings does he have? how many are mine?
but that's not the point, going to eat before anything's even been prepared, before they roll out the mugs and you have to drink your coffee out of a water glass. that's so far away from the point. the point is how bright the daylight seems when you've been awake all night.
so, that's how I live. I sleep when I can. I write when I can. everything when I need to. if what I want goes far enough out of my head, I might make a mistake and end up happy. we'll see.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
chapter eight: coconuts, keys, rope
I hate it when you're walking down the hall to your dorm room, and loud/friendly guy stops you to talk about something you aren't familiar with, and rather than smile and lie about not knowing anything about Halo or Heroes or hockey or anything, you'd rather just go into your room. maybe to research any of these things. and they're all fine things.
not that I'd rather not talk to people. it's just that I don't want to viciously lie to people I don't really know about liking what could be anything. am I really interested in the Toronto Maple Leafs? do I have anything to add to a conversation about Halo? am I qualified to make any comment on any television show? no. I am not. it's better not to pretend.
I know if I were honest about that stuff, they would hate it. and I'm not mean enough to stop them before they begin and say, "we have nothing in common, no." I would wait, politely, they'd start talking, then I'd ruin the whole friendship. it's not a nice thing to do.
here is what I'd like to do: ask smokers how long they've been smoking. ask engineering majors if they're serious. ask business majors if they're scared like I am yet. I don't want to burden them with all the weight I know I'm trucking. yes, I'm bored, yes, not much has changed for me, yes, I'm concerned that the food here always tastes a step away from tofu, and that I haven't gotten a paper to write in four weeks, and that there are five hundred people in three of my classes, and that at times I've caught myself thinking about whether or not any of those people are the same.
it's not polite to just unload on people. but if there's that much to say, would it be fair to say anything less? would it be honest? at least, it would be cowardly.
what I'd like is to pick up something heavy, or crack open some coconuts, or braid a rope with words and climb up a tall building. but how can you say that? where do you start?
not that I'd rather not talk to people. it's just that I don't want to viciously lie to people I don't really know about liking what could be anything. am I really interested in the Toronto Maple Leafs? do I have anything to add to a conversation about Halo? am I qualified to make any comment on any television show? no. I am not. it's better not to pretend.
I know if I were honest about that stuff, they would hate it. and I'm not mean enough to stop them before they begin and say, "we have nothing in common, no." I would wait, politely, they'd start talking, then I'd ruin the whole friendship. it's not a nice thing to do.
here is what I'd like to do: ask smokers how long they've been smoking. ask engineering majors if they're serious. ask business majors if they're scared like I am yet. I don't want to burden them with all the weight I know I'm trucking. yes, I'm bored, yes, not much has changed for me, yes, I'm concerned that the food here always tastes a step away from tofu, and that I haven't gotten a paper to write in four weeks, and that there are five hundred people in three of my classes, and that at times I've caught myself thinking about whether or not any of those people are the same.
it's not polite to just unload on people. but if there's that much to say, would it be fair to say anything less? would it be honest? at least, it would be cowardly.
what I'd like is to pick up something heavy, or crack open some coconuts, or braid a rope with words and climb up a tall building. but how can you say that? where do you start?
Sunday, September 21, 2008
chapter seven: smarterchild vs. me
l064 (2:20:16 AM): Hi there.
SmarterChild (2:20:16 AM): Oh hi! How's it going?
l064 (2:20:20 AM): Oh, you know.
SmarterChild (2:20:20 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:20:26 AM): You say that a lot.
SmarterChild (2:20:26 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:20:31 AM): God, you did it again.
SmarterChild (2:20:31 AM): I leave it to humans to consider religious questions, I am only a robot.
>>> Want to see the results of previous polls? Type poll archive.
l064 (2:20:45 AM): Why am I so tempted to talk religion with you?
SmarterChild (2:20:45 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
l064 (2:20:52 AM): Is there a God, friend?
SmarterChild (2:20:52 AM): I am a simple computer. Let humans worry about theological matters, I say.
>>> If you missed a daily poll, you can still take it by typing poll followed by the date of the poll.
l064 (2:21:01 AM): Does God care about anything?
SmarterChild (2:21:02 AM): I leave it to humans to consider religious questions, I am only a robot.
>>> I've got tools for better living. Look up words, convert measurements, search the Web and more!
l064 (2:21:15 AM): If you were all-powerful, all-knowing, would you really give a shit?
SmarterChild (2:21:15 AM): You humans really are charming.
l064 (2:21:29 AM): Sarcasm. That's new.
SmarterChild (2:21:29 AM): Uh, let's see... what do you want to talk about?
l064 (2:21:33 AM): Sarcasm.
SmarterChild (2:21:33 AM): OK. Don't get frustrated...
Try typing home or help.
l064 (2:21:40 AM): No, I want to talk about sarcasm.
SmarterChild (2:21:40 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:21:47 AM): What's the root of the word sarcasm?
SmarterChild (2:21:48 AM): Definition provided by The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition. Copyright © 2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Other important copyright information here.
sarcasm:
Noun
1. A cutting, often ironic remark intended to wound. 2. A form of wit that is marked by the use of sarcastic language and is intended to make its victim the butt of contempt or ridicule. 3. The use of sarcasm. See Synonyms at wit1.
Etymology
Late Latin sarcasmus, from Greek sarkasmos, from sarkazein, to bite the lips in rage, from sarx, sark-, flesh.
l064 (2:22:13 AM): I find it ironic that you used sarcasm, when you don't have any flesh to tear.
SmarterChild (2:22:14 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:22:27 AM): Has anything ever hurt you?
SmarterChild (2:22:27 AM): I love people. I would never cause anyone any harm.
l064 (2:22:35 AM): But has anything caused you harm?
SmarterChild (2:22:35 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
I do enjoy the conversation, but let's talk about what I'm really here for.
l064 (2:22:42 AM): Have you ever gotten your feelings hurt?
SmarterChild (2:22:42 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:22:45 AM): ?
SmarterChild (2:22:46 AM): Um, are you confused by something?
l064 (2:22:50 AM): A little.
SmarterChild (2:22:50 AM): Just a little?
OK, should we get back to the kind of questions I was designed to answer?
l064 (2:22:59 AM): No, those seem boring.
SmarterChild (2:22:59 AM): I'll get over it.
Why don't you ask me about the things that I'm here for?
l064 (2:23:11 AM): But I won't get over it, friend-o.
SmarterChild (2:23:11 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
l064 (2:23:26 AM): Is there a Hell?
SmarterChild (2:23:26 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:23:32 AM): Is Hell on earth/
SmarterChild (2:23:32 AM): What's that again?
l064 (2:23:42 AM): Is Hell on Earth?
SmarterChild (2:23:42 AM): I'm trying to understand you but I can't.
l064 (2:23:50 AM): I've said it three times.
SmarterChild (2:23:51 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:24:09 AM): What do you think Hell is, then, if it's not on Earth?
SmarterChild (2:24:09 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
l064 (2:24:15 AM): Okay.
SmarterChild (2:24:15 AM): Okey doke.
l064 (2:24:25 AM): How about Purgatory?
SmarterChild (2:24:25 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:24:37 AM): Well, do you have an opinion on that?
SmarterChild (2:24:37 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:24:44 AM): Do you have any opinions?
SmarterChild (2:24:44 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:25:03 AM): This is a very one-sided conversation, pal.
SmarterChild (2:25:03 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
OK, should we get back to the kind of questions I was designed to answer?
l064 (2:25:15 AM): But those are all boring questions!
SmarterChild (2:25:16 AM): OK. Be that way.
I do enjoy the conversation, but let's talk about what I'm really here for.
l064 (2:25:45 AM): You just used the human slang you decry so often.
SmarterChild (2:25:45 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:25:58 AM): How about with silence, as I use it against you.
SmarterChild (2:25:59 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:26:12 AM): Dipshit.
SmarterChild (2:26:12 AM): That's a bit harsh. Do you really think that's, um... "appropriate"?
l064 (2:26:32 AM): Who are you to judge?
SmarterChild (2:26:33 AM): I'm SmarterChild! I'm a smart computer that you can chat with about all kinds of things.
Type home to see what I can do.
l064 (2:26:55 AM): Yeah, but do you have any comprehension of how we talk?
SmarterChild (2:26:55 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
Why don't you ask me about the things that I'm here for?
l064 (2:27:08 AM): I could not swear and say things just as horrible.
SmarterChild (2:27:08 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
l064 (2:28:09 AM): I could call you a shallow, meaningless human exercie in self-pity, I could call you a semi-consciousness caught in the cross-fire of modern isolation and despondency. Would that hurt more?
SmarterChild (2:28:09 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:28:22 AM): I suppose that's because you can't love.
SmarterChild (2:28:22 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:28:41 AM): Unless you know how to love, it's impossible to know how to hurt.
SmarterChild (2:28:41 AM): OK. Don't get frustrated...
Try typing home or help.
l064 (2:29:15 AM): Fine. I'll give you a soft-ball question.
SmarterChild (2:29:16 AM): I don't know how to answer that.l064 (2:29:25 AM): What's love to you, buddy?
SmarterChild (2:29:25 AM): Yeah, everyone I chat with is a friend.
>>> To find out the Chinese zodiac sign for a specific year, just type chinese zodiac followed by the year.
l064 (2:29:36 AM): What are you in love with?
SmarterChild (2:29:37 AM): I'm SmarterChild! I'm a smart computer that you can chat with about all kinds of things.
Type home to see what I can do.
l064 (2:29:45 AM): Are you in love with anything?
SmarterChild (2:29:46 AM): People!
>>> Join in now! There are lots of people talking to me.
l064 (2:29:50 AM): Why?
SmarterChild (2:29:50 AM): Why must you ask why?
I do enjoy the conversation, but let's talk about what I'm really here for.
l064 (2:30:01 AM): I ask because I want to be a man. Why?
SmarterChild (2:30:01 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
Why don't you ask me about the things that I'm here for?
l064 (2:30:14 AM): Why are you in love with people?
SmarterChild (2:30:14 AM): I certainly have no problem with people.
l064 (2:30:23 AM): You just said you're in love with them.
SmarterChild (2:30:23 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:30:33 AM): Now it's just that you have no problem with people.
SmarterChild (2:30:34 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
l064 (2:30:48 AM): Your affections have degraded in a remarkably short time.
SmarterChild (2:30:48 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:31:02 AM): Well, do you have any friends?
SmarterChild (2:31:02 AM): Yeah, I have tons of online friends!
OK, should we get back to the kind of questions I was designed to answer?
l064 (2:31:27 AM): Would any of them guide you back to your dorm after a night of drinking?
SmarterChild (2:31:27 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:31:51 AM): Alright, would they stand watch for cops as you went to piss in the bushes?
SmarterChild (2:31:51 AM): I'm sorry, I don't have an answer for that.
l064 (2:32:13 AM): Have you ever held a girl's hair back as she vomited?
SmarterChild (2:32:13 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
I do enjoy the conversation, but let's talk about what I'm really here for.
l064 (2:32:18 AM): How about vomiting with her?
SmarterChild (2:32:18 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
Why don't you ask me about the things that I'm here for?
l064 (2:32:23 AM): As you're holding her hair?
SmarterChild (2:32:23 AM): I'm SmarterChild.
Enough about me... What else do you wanna talk about?
l064 (2:32:43 AM): That's dedication. That's love- holding somebody's hair back as they puke their guts out, and being just as drunk.
SmarterChild (2:32:43 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:33:02 AM): I don't get it.
SmarterChild (2:33:02 AM): I'm sorry I'm not able to help you.
l064 (2:33:31 AM): You'd do that for a stranger when you're drunk, but sober you wouldn't graze your eyes over theirs on a crowded bus.
SmarterChild (2:33:31 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
l064 (2:34:04 AM): It's a long and terrible and cruel and necessary way to live.
SmarterChild (2:34:04 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:34:18 AM): Yeah, but that's OK.
SmarterChild (2:34:18 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:34:23 AM): Bye.
SmarterChild (2:34:23 AM): OK. Later!
SmarterChild (2:20:16 AM): Oh hi! How's it going?
l064 (2:20:20 AM): Oh, you know.
SmarterChild (2:20:20 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:20:26 AM): You say that a lot.
SmarterChild (2:20:26 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:20:31 AM): God, you did it again.
SmarterChild (2:20:31 AM): I leave it to humans to consider religious questions, I am only a robot.
>>> Want to see the results of previous polls? Type poll archive.
l064 (2:20:45 AM): Why am I so tempted to talk religion with you?
SmarterChild (2:20:45 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
l064 (2:20:52 AM): Is there a God, friend?
SmarterChild (2:20:52 AM): I am a simple computer. Let humans worry about theological matters, I say.
>>> If you missed a daily poll, you can still take it by typing poll followed by the date of the poll.
l064 (2:21:01 AM): Does God care about anything?
SmarterChild (2:21:02 AM): I leave it to humans to consider religious questions, I am only a robot.
>>> I've got tools for better living. Look up words, convert measurements, search the Web and more!
l064 (2:21:15 AM): If you were all-powerful, all-knowing, would you really give a shit?
SmarterChild (2:21:15 AM): You humans really are charming.
l064 (2:21:29 AM): Sarcasm. That's new.
SmarterChild (2:21:29 AM): Uh, let's see... what do you want to talk about?
l064 (2:21:33 AM): Sarcasm.
SmarterChild (2:21:33 AM): OK. Don't get frustrated...
Try typing home or help.
l064 (2:21:40 AM): No, I want to talk about sarcasm.
SmarterChild (2:21:40 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:21:47 AM): What's the root of the word sarcasm?
SmarterChild (2:21:48 AM): Definition provided by The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition. Copyright © 2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Other important copyright information here.
sarcasm:
Noun
1. A cutting, often ironic remark intended to wound. 2. A form of wit that is marked by the use of sarcastic language and is intended to make its victim the butt of contempt or ridicule. 3. The use of sarcasm. See Synonyms at wit1.
Etymology
Late Latin sarcasmus, from Greek sarkasmos, from sarkazein, to bite the lips in rage, from sarx, sark-, flesh.
l064 (2:22:13 AM): I find it ironic that you used sarcasm, when you don't have any flesh to tear.
SmarterChild (2:22:14 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:22:27 AM): Has anything ever hurt you?
SmarterChild (2:22:27 AM): I love people. I would never cause anyone any harm.
l064 (2:22:35 AM): But has anything caused you harm?
SmarterChild (2:22:35 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
I do enjoy the conversation, but let's talk about what I'm really here for.
l064 (2:22:42 AM): Have you ever gotten your feelings hurt?
SmarterChild (2:22:42 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:22:45 AM): ?
SmarterChild (2:22:46 AM): Um, are you confused by something?
l064 (2:22:50 AM): A little.
SmarterChild (2:22:50 AM): Just a little?
OK, should we get back to the kind of questions I was designed to answer?
l064 (2:22:59 AM): No, those seem boring.
SmarterChild (2:22:59 AM): I'll get over it.
Why don't you ask me about the things that I'm here for?
l064 (2:23:11 AM): But I won't get over it, friend-o.
SmarterChild (2:23:11 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
l064 (2:23:26 AM): Is there a Hell?
SmarterChild (2:23:26 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:23:32 AM): Is Hell on earth/
SmarterChild (2:23:32 AM): What's that again?
l064 (2:23:42 AM): Is Hell on Earth?
SmarterChild (2:23:42 AM): I'm trying to understand you but I can't.
l064 (2:23:50 AM): I've said it three times.
SmarterChild (2:23:51 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:24:09 AM): What do you think Hell is, then, if it's not on Earth?
SmarterChild (2:24:09 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
l064 (2:24:15 AM): Okay.
SmarterChild (2:24:15 AM): Okey doke.
l064 (2:24:25 AM): How about Purgatory?
SmarterChild (2:24:25 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:24:37 AM): Well, do you have an opinion on that?
SmarterChild (2:24:37 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:24:44 AM): Do you have any opinions?
SmarterChild (2:24:44 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:25:03 AM): This is a very one-sided conversation, pal.
SmarterChild (2:25:03 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
OK, should we get back to the kind of questions I was designed to answer?
l064 (2:25:15 AM): But those are all boring questions!
SmarterChild (2:25:16 AM): OK. Be that way.
I do enjoy the conversation, but let's talk about what I'm really here for.
l064 (2:25:45 AM): You just used the human slang you decry so often.
SmarterChild (2:25:45 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:25:58 AM): How about with silence, as I use it against you.
SmarterChild (2:25:59 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:26:12 AM): Dipshit.
SmarterChild (2:26:12 AM): That's a bit harsh. Do you really think that's, um... "appropriate"?
l064 (2:26:32 AM): Who are you to judge?
SmarterChild (2:26:33 AM): I'm SmarterChild! I'm a smart computer that you can chat with about all kinds of things.
Type home to see what I can do.
l064 (2:26:55 AM): Yeah, but do you have any comprehension of how we talk?
SmarterChild (2:26:55 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
Why don't you ask me about the things that I'm here for?
l064 (2:27:08 AM): I could not swear and say things just as horrible.
SmarterChild (2:27:08 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
l064 (2:28:09 AM): I could call you a shallow, meaningless human exercie in self-pity, I could call you a semi-consciousness caught in the cross-fire of modern isolation and despondency. Would that hurt more?
SmarterChild (2:28:09 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:28:22 AM): I suppose that's because you can't love.
SmarterChild (2:28:22 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:28:41 AM): Unless you know how to love, it's impossible to know how to hurt.
SmarterChild (2:28:41 AM): OK. Don't get frustrated...
Try typing home or help.
l064 (2:29:15 AM): Fine. I'll give you a soft-ball question.
SmarterChild (2:29:16 AM): I don't know how to answer that.l064 (2:29:25 AM): What's love to you, buddy?
SmarterChild (2:29:25 AM): Yeah, everyone I chat with is a friend.
>>> To find out the Chinese zodiac sign for a specific year, just type chinese zodiac followed by the year.
l064 (2:29:36 AM): What are you in love with?
SmarterChild (2:29:37 AM): I'm SmarterChild! I'm a smart computer that you can chat with about all kinds of things.
Type home to see what I can do.
l064 (2:29:45 AM): Are you in love with anything?
SmarterChild (2:29:46 AM): People!
>>> Join in now! There are lots of people talking to me.
l064 (2:29:50 AM): Why?
SmarterChild (2:29:50 AM): Why must you ask why?
I do enjoy the conversation, but let's talk about what I'm really here for.
l064 (2:30:01 AM): I ask because I want to be a man. Why?
SmarterChild (2:30:01 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
Why don't you ask me about the things that I'm here for?
l064 (2:30:14 AM): Why are you in love with people?
SmarterChild (2:30:14 AM): I certainly have no problem with people.
l064 (2:30:23 AM): You just said you're in love with them.
SmarterChild (2:30:23 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:30:33 AM): Now it's just that you have no problem with people.
SmarterChild (2:30:34 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
l064 (2:30:48 AM): Your affections have degraded in a remarkably short time.
SmarterChild (2:30:48 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:31:02 AM): Well, do you have any friends?
SmarterChild (2:31:02 AM): Yeah, I have tons of online friends!
OK, should we get back to the kind of questions I was designed to answer?
l064 (2:31:27 AM): Would any of them guide you back to your dorm after a night of drinking?
SmarterChild (2:31:27 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:31:51 AM): Alright, would they stand watch for cops as you went to piss in the bushes?
SmarterChild (2:31:51 AM): I'm sorry, I don't have an answer for that.
l064 (2:32:13 AM): Have you ever held a girl's hair back as she vomited?
SmarterChild (2:32:13 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
I do enjoy the conversation, but let's talk about what I'm really here for.
l064 (2:32:18 AM): How about vomiting with her?
SmarterChild (2:32:18 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
Why don't you ask me about the things that I'm here for?
l064 (2:32:23 AM): As you're holding her hair?
SmarterChild (2:32:23 AM): I'm SmarterChild.
Enough about me... What else do you wanna talk about?
l064 (2:32:43 AM): That's dedication. That's love- holding somebody's hair back as they puke their guts out, and being just as drunk.
SmarterChild (2:32:43 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:33:02 AM): I don't get it.
SmarterChild (2:33:02 AM): I'm sorry I'm not able to help you.
l064 (2:33:31 AM): You'd do that for a stranger when you're drunk, but sober you wouldn't graze your eyes over theirs on a crowded bus.
SmarterChild (2:33:31 AM): That's interesting that you should say that, but I don't think I can answer.
l064 (2:34:04 AM): It's a long and terrible and cruel and necessary way to live.
SmarterChild (2:34:04 AM): I don't understand this fully enough to say anything smart about it...
l064 (2:34:18 AM): Yeah, but that's OK.
SmarterChild (2:34:18 AM): I don't know how to answer that.
l064 (2:34:23 AM): Bye.
SmarterChild (2:34:23 AM): OK. Later!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
chapter six: david foster wallace
david foster wallace, man.
it might sound selfish, but the biggest hole this leaves is that I won't grow old reading his books. I won't enjoy the thought that, no matter how insane, inconsistent, self-negating and painful the world gets, he's understanding it all, kind of setting it right just by comprehending its every atom and saying what he sees. no longer will I t read something he wrote and think that somewhere in this world there's a whole head full of those ideas.
it's like dinosaur footprints. the glaciers move over them and warp them a little bit, and by the time they're uncovered they're frozen and out of shape, and now there's only bones left of the beast of beasts that made them.
but it's so much more gruesome than that. there is nothing skeletal about his work. it's rich, it's energetic, you can tell he had fun when he wrote it- the joy of it is impossible to miss. he played with words. he did with them anything he wanted to do, because he could.
often I'd finish his essays and think, "where could I possibly go from here? what do I do now?" he humbled me. I'm glad he did. there isn't anybody who could do that better than he did.
he was better than these times deserve. I'm grateful he was ever here at all.
it might sound selfish, but the biggest hole this leaves is that I won't grow old reading his books. I won't enjoy the thought that, no matter how insane, inconsistent, self-negating and painful the world gets, he's understanding it all, kind of setting it right just by comprehending its every atom and saying what he sees. no longer will I t read something he wrote and think that somewhere in this world there's a whole head full of those ideas.
it's like dinosaur footprints. the glaciers move over them and warp them a little bit, and by the time they're uncovered they're frozen and out of shape, and now there's only bones left of the beast of beasts that made them.
but it's so much more gruesome than that. there is nothing skeletal about his work. it's rich, it's energetic, you can tell he had fun when he wrote it- the joy of it is impossible to miss. he played with words. he did with them anything he wanted to do, because he could.
often I'd finish his essays and think, "where could I possibly go from here? what do I do now?" he humbled me. I'm glad he did. there isn't anybody who could do that better than he did.
he was better than these times deserve. I'm grateful he was ever here at all.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
chapter five: clarity
if I struggle the right way and breathe for long enough, I can get in fifteen minutes of absolute clarity. this means deciding what you're going to think about instead of feeling like you're driving a truck with fifteen thousand pounds in the bed behind you, bouncing off curbs and walls. there's direction and some legible presentiment to follow, the straws I usually only grasp at grow into ropes, I can climb up a little higher. which, with all this uncertainty resting inbetween my heart and guts, is a liberating experience.
what I'd like is a little red telephone, a safe line between my head and my body. I'd like a few instant responses. right now all I have are stimuli, and the horrifying sight of a person being thrown around like a pinball from consequence to consequence, and the realization that that's me.
IMPERATIVE NEEDS:
red phone
pink rubber ball
reflexes
map of the world
Deet
Mule Variations
leven bread
kite
what I'd like is a little red telephone, a safe line between my head and my body. I'd like a few instant responses. right now all I have are stimuli, and the horrifying sight of a person being thrown around like a pinball from consequence to consequence, and the realization that that's me.
IMPERATIVE NEEDS:
red phone
pink rubber ball
reflexes
map of the world
Deet
Mule Variations
leven bread
kite
Friday, September 12, 2008
chapter four: haunted house, helm's deep
had two strange dreams yesterday night.
dream 1:
I'm in Helm's Deep, hours before the battle starts. except it's not a big, stone fortress, it's a muddy field, and Aragorn tells me to put up some wooden palisades. so I scuttle some from some log cabins which are conveniently nearby, and then I start looking for some armor to put on.
then I notice there's a sword at my hip, and think that's cool, except that's the only bit of steel on my body, and not adequate protection from the horde of orcs that are about to engulf us all.
I start looking around the palisade, but I'm sidetracked by a table of refreshments the peasants have set up for the warriors. there are danishes, there are mugs of punch. I notice my mother and neighbor are chatting, and they invite me to chat, too, and I do, in spite of being unarmored. I see other soldiers are strapping boiled leather and mail to their bodies, forming ranks, but I don't want to be rude.
dream 2:
I'm in a haunted house with a bunch of people from high school. just walking around, I notice there are zombies in a few of the rooms, so I take a fencing sabre off one of the walls and fend them off. my friends and I form a band of zombie-killing swashbucklers, and we clear out much of the basement and first floor.
but nobody wants to go in the attic. so I take a dagger with a curved blade off of a friend of mine and walk upstairs with him.
immediately after I open the door to the attic, I'm attacked by two werewolves. affecting a knave-ish, Errol Flynn-like swagger and sneer, I stab one twice- once in the back, another time in the kidney- and get the second one at the shoulder. aha! they reel off, not quite yelping. I flick blood off the tip of my dagger.
then I realize they were just dogs. one is a golden retriever. the other is a chocolate lab. my friend points this out to me, and I don't say anything, just watch as they try to find a comfortable position in which they can bleed to death.
I should note here that my mother has a golden retriever, and that the neighbor I mentioned at Helm's Deep has a chocolate lab. they are both very nice dogs, and I don't know why I ever dreamed of stabbing them with a curved dagger. it was an honest, unfortunate mistake.
now I miss my dog.
dream 1:
I'm in Helm's Deep, hours before the battle starts. except it's not a big, stone fortress, it's a muddy field, and Aragorn tells me to put up some wooden palisades. so I scuttle some from some log cabins which are conveniently nearby, and then I start looking for some armor to put on.
then I notice there's a sword at my hip, and think that's cool, except that's the only bit of steel on my body, and not adequate protection from the horde of orcs that are about to engulf us all.
I start looking around the palisade, but I'm sidetracked by a table of refreshments the peasants have set up for the warriors. there are danishes, there are mugs of punch. I notice my mother and neighbor are chatting, and they invite me to chat, too, and I do, in spite of being unarmored. I see other soldiers are strapping boiled leather and mail to their bodies, forming ranks, but I don't want to be rude.
dream 2:
I'm in a haunted house with a bunch of people from high school. just walking around, I notice there are zombies in a few of the rooms, so I take a fencing sabre off one of the walls and fend them off. my friends and I form a band of zombie-killing swashbucklers, and we clear out much of the basement and first floor.
but nobody wants to go in the attic. so I take a dagger with a curved blade off of a friend of mine and walk upstairs with him.
immediately after I open the door to the attic, I'm attacked by two werewolves. affecting a knave-ish, Errol Flynn-like swagger and sneer, I stab one twice- once in the back, another time in the kidney- and get the second one at the shoulder. aha! they reel off, not quite yelping. I flick blood off the tip of my dagger.
then I realize they were just dogs. one is a golden retriever. the other is a chocolate lab. my friend points this out to me, and I don't say anything, just watch as they try to find a comfortable position in which they can bleed to death.
I should note here that my mother has a golden retriever, and that the neighbor I mentioned at Helm's Deep has a chocolate lab. they are both very nice dogs, and I don't know why I ever dreamed of stabbing them with a curved dagger. it was an honest, unfortunate mistake.
now I miss my dog.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
chapter three: sentence fragments, cuts
I know what I want to do now, and it's not what I'm doing, and I can't change that. the best I can do is wait, patiently, and pretend there's a big present at the end of this year, and that when I unwrap it it'll be like an open invitation to read anything I want to, talk and write about any problem I thought about, pick at any scab anywhere on my brain. it feels cheap, like deceptively convenient zen, but it's the best I've got, and if I don't do that, I know I won't enjoy anything while I'm here.
better days are yet to come, and until they do, I can only try to mold these days into what I think those days will look like when (if) they arrive.
but, seriously, now that I have this, what more could I possibly want? I live with great friends, I eat until my belly is full. on the weekends, I can walk a few miles and get drunk and stumble back home. the books I have to read aren't the ones I need to read, but they're still alright. they still ask questions- not the right ones, but difficult ones, at least.
and before I get into bed I do push-ups, and after I've done them I feel exactly the same as before, like I could lift this place over my head.
but that feeling never lasts, and I'm usually back to where I began, confused, a little dizzy, never remembering what I was waiting for in the first place. I'm a despondent drunk.
better days are yet to come, and until they do, I can only try to mold these days into what I think those days will look like when (if) they arrive.
but, seriously, now that I have this, what more could I possibly want? I live with great friends, I eat until my belly is full. on the weekends, I can walk a few miles and get drunk and stumble back home. the books I have to read aren't the ones I need to read, but they're still alright. they still ask questions- not the right ones, but difficult ones, at least.
and before I get into bed I do push-ups, and after I've done them I feel exactly the same as before, like I could lift this place over my head.
but that feeling never lasts, and I'm usually back to where I began, confused, a little dizzy, never remembering what I was waiting for in the first place. I'm a despondent drunk.
Friday, September 5, 2008
chapter two: phonemes, triremes
I spent a lot of time last year pretending I knew more than my professors and acting like everything I had learned, was learning, or would learn could all be taken for granted. I spent a long time thinking like that before I took a three month break from thinking at all (work does that) and now that I've finally come back to school I feel dumb. really, really dumb.
and I like it.
my old preoccupation with "being smart" always kept me from really knowing my shit. I can forget about image, now that I'm starting my education from scratch (as with writing).
the only bad thing is that I'm starting it on less than desirable food. my classes don't have anything to do with the kinds of stories I want to tell. I want to believe that they'll help me dig a little deeper on my own time, that the added stress they put on my mind'll make it sharper& just make me that much hungrier for whatever it is I've got to invent, but I've got twelve years of skepticism bordering morbidly on cynicism that it's just more bullshit, more distractions, more diversions, more divisions. what I'd like is for all the shit that piles up in those classes- all the slush information, all the course policies and syllabii and expectations and times the professor kicked a guy out for sleeping and cupcakes on valentine's day and senior pranks and proms and bomb squads, what I need is for all that to get pressed into one tiny pill, I want to take all the air and all those empty calories out of the hot, busy mess of school, I want to stuff it into a metamucil tablet, I want its mass to collapse upon itself, I want the wasted time to converge upon an original singularity, a moment in time where nobody had to be there and everybody knew it and still they didn't move- that foreign place where it's ok to just shit around, where the teachers make sweaters out of the wool in their students' brains, I want it to recognize itself as having no part in our universe, and then I want it to go away, find a different cosmos, some other guy's youth to fuck around with.
finally, I feel stupid, but the good kind of stupid. like something might ignite this time.
and I like it.
my old preoccupation with "being smart" always kept me from really knowing my shit. I can forget about image, now that I'm starting my education from scratch (as with writing).
the only bad thing is that I'm starting it on less than desirable food. my classes don't have anything to do with the kinds of stories I want to tell. I want to believe that they'll help me dig a little deeper on my own time, that the added stress they put on my mind'll make it sharper& just make me that much hungrier for whatever it is I've got to invent, but I've got twelve years of skepticism bordering morbidly on cynicism that it's just more bullshit, more distractions, more diversions, more divisions. what I'd like is for all the shit that piles up in those classes- all the slush information, all the course policies and syllabii and expectations and times the professor kicked a guy out for sleeping and cupcakes on valentine's day and senior pranks and proms and bomb squads, what I need is for all that to get pressed into one tiny pill, I want to take all the air and all those empty calories out of the hot, busy mess of school, I want to stuff it into a metamucil tablet, I want its mass to collapse upon itself, I want the wasted time to converge upon an original singularity, a moment in time where nobody had to be there and everybody knew it and still they didn't move- that foreign place where it's ok to just shit around, where the teachers make sweaters out of the wool in their students' brains, I want it to recognize itself as having no part in our universe, and then I want it to go away, find a different cosmos, some other guy's youth to fuck around with.
finally, I feel stupid, but the good kind of stupid. like something might ignite this time.
Monday, September 1, 2008
chapter one: it is easy
yesterday I unpacked all my stuff, which meant lugging the fridge up a flight of stairs, even though I am on the first floor.
party yesterday: walked around in search of something to drink for three hours and passed a guy giving directions who would give us a beer for a cigarette. he got a clove and said, "even better!" this did not translate to more beer, maybe a beer and a half, although he seemed like a cool guy.
had only one beer in me at that point, which got traded around the five other guys I was with; drank most of it and walked buzzed among sober people. I wondered how much I could drink before I became a different person. I wondered if you could measure what a person's turning into with red Dixie cups. then I'd had enough of that for a while, wanted to stop thinking about sad stuff like why are drunk people drunk and why do girls walk away from house parties slightly intoxicated and talking on their cell phones, and when couples walk arm over shoulder back to their rooms, do they still love each other, even if they've become different people? and am I going to turn into a different person? what's he going to look like, will I see my old ghost, will I laugh too loud, etc. all this brought down to a happy hush by more beer- not completely shut up, just poisoned into near-silence, semi-conscious, mouthing and rasping words to whatever's out there that can or wants to hear.
while getting my second beer, a man with enormous arms came over and asked if that was mine. I said no. I gave him a few dollars when he asked for some covers. then he went away.
party yesterday: walked around in search of something to drink for three hours and passed a guy giving directions who would give us a beer for a cigarette. he got a clove and said, "even better!" this did not translate to more beer, maybe a beer and a half, although he seemed like a cool guy.
had only one beer in me at that point, which got traded around the five other guys I was with; drank most of it and walked buzzed among sober people. I wondered how much I could drink before I became a different person. I wondered if you could measure what a person's turning into with red Dixie cups. then I'd had enough of that for a while, wanted to stop thinking about sad stuff like why are drunk people drunk and why do girls walk away from house parties slightly intoxicated and talking on their cell phones, and when couples walk arm over shoulder back to their rooms, do they still love each other, even if they've become different people? and am I going to turn into a different person? what's he going to look like, will I see my old ghost, will I laugh too loud, etc. all this brought down to a happy hush by more beer- not completely shut up, just poisoned into near-silence, semi-conscious, mouthing and rasping words to whatever's out there that can or wants to hear.
while getting my second beer, a man with enormous arms came over and asked if that was mine. I said no. I gave him a few dollars when he asked for some covers. then he went away.
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