I was browsing around the net and found this story on fazed.net.
Now a library is something I have dreamed about for at least 10 years. Originally I had an awesome idea for using an old grain silo and rebuilding the inside. Then the library from Meet Joe Black, with its classy layout and open spaces. Recently I have been imagining eventually building a log home, so a more rustic library has been in my head. But seriously, Jay Walker’s library takes the cake when it comes to look and content.
On the flip side, I do still struggle with one of those seven deadlies… gluttony. I mean, what is the point of having walls and walls of books, memorabilia, artifacts, and knick-knacks? Is there though a difference of seeking out specific items just to possess, versus displaying items that you have happened to acquire through the years of your life?
Luckily, neither of these questions matter right now since I have neither the resources to acquire, nor a library to place things in.
My media studies class has been crafting blogs and zines for the past month and I got all nostalgic. So first I had to get under the chassis of this old beast and give it some new parts, an oil change, and a nice wash and wax. Once I finish tweaking around and remembering how all this html/css stuff works, I plan on reviving my posting. Plus I have a summer coming up here, which provides some free time.
It has been mentioned in conversations that the end of August and the dusk of summer is melancholy for most people. Signs that the good, fun times are coming to a close. For me, it is one more week of absolute freedom before going back to teach. I say teach instead of work because for the most part, it doesn’t feel like working so much. I’ve never explained it here on the site, but I am glad I got into teaching. It enables me to enact many aspects of my personality and interests. (though hopefully this isn’t just me justifying how I spend my time, trying to convince myself that I am happy, but I don’t think it is).
Anyways, I finished reading 100 Years of Solitude this week. I put my review up on http://www.goodreads.com . Join up if you are interested or ask me for an invite so that we can link together our libraries
Beyond that… I watched the second half of Big Kahuna this evening. Not a great film. One of those big on talk, small on action, and the talking isn’t that great. One snippet of dialogue did catch my ear, though. About having regrets and that by having them, you carry on that weight for the rest of your being in order to try to be a better person. The only axiom, though, is that you should live without regrets or that they aren’t worth having. But… by not having any, doesn’t that mean you don’t think about your past actions or grow and learn from previous experiences. Not having regrets is rationalizing and justifying your stupidity. Maybe it is just a cliche like when people ask how you’re doing, they don’t really want to know, they’re just asking to pass the time or be polite. So if anyone ever asks you if you have any regrets, you’re supposed to say, “of course not! I am absolutely satisfied with every decision I’ve made in my entire life.” because it sounds so much better.
Other themes of the movie were death and god, which got me to thinking that I have not seriously entertained these ideas in quite a while, let alone had a conversation about them. Kind of veganism/vegetarianism, the concepts seem more like a habit at this point. No new earthbreaking information has come into my sphere, so there is no real point to revisit, yet re-substantiation is probably necessary for the sake of rediscovering why I think what I think or believe what I believe. I keep intending to go back and read Kierkegaard and about his leap of faith, but I haven’t…
…it is possible to become lost in possibility in all sorts of ways, but primarily in two. The one takes the form of desiring, craving; the other takes the form of the melancholy-imaginary. Legends and fairy tales tell of the knight who suddenly sees a rare bird and chases after it, because it seems first to be very close; but it flies again, and when night comes, he finds himself separated from his companions and lost in the wilderness… So it is also with desire’s possibility. Instead of taking possibility back into necessity, he chases after possibility - and at last cannot find his way back to himself.
-Soren Kierkegaard, The Sickness Unto Death
here are a few links i have been wasting time on:
The Age Project - http://ageproject.specialsnowflake.com/
Trebuchet! - http://www.globalspec.com/Trebuchet/
Puzzle Pirates - http://www.puzzlepirates.com/
i’ve been contemplating a lung or esophagus transplant for at least 3 days. the pack of bacteria and virii inhabiting my breathing pathways has been quite annoying. some days better, some mornings worse. what the most disappointing result is that i have had to postpone a week of the jogging program. add to that the fear of progress lost.
upon mac g’s recommendation, i viewed primer over the weekend. why it is called “primer” i have not been able to deduce as of that. suffice to say, this film will require more than one viewing. it goes down nice and easy like an aged whiskey, until the second act twist. by then you’ve finished the bottle and might as well be on the floor with the spins. it is not that the movie mystifies the viewer or some profound realization is revealed, it merely gets confusing. and while you are trying to unwrap your head, you have been missing more of the movie. nonetheless, it is different and interesting. and leads to this digression…
what if you and three other friends, each with a particular set of talents or skills, committed to get together and try to achieve something each year. maybe it is a set of artistic pieces, writing a collection of short stories, inventing a product, building a house, etc. share a common goal and either achieve or discard and move on. we have resources, intelligences, abilities, all of which are set toward entirely selfish goals with blinders on. for nine months i could volunteer 20 hours a week minimum to aid another in some way, on their goal. in turn i could get three more sets of eyes, hands, brains on mine. even the idea of collective support and accomplishment. it is idealistic and utopian, yet intriguing.
the other movie i saw this weekend was severance, it is billed as an office space / horror film. there are amusing / suspenseful / comedic / oh shit scenes, but for the most part it seems to be a compilation film. a bit of surviving the game and battle royal, a bit blair witch, mix in the office spacey stuff, maybe a touch of shaun of the dead and there you go. skip the theater, go to the netflix or download.
woke up way too early on saturday. had to pack up the gear and head to the great north of vermont to watch jake run a marathon. we made a stop through middlebury so annie could see her alma mater and we could meet up with mary. quaint school and town…
[i don't have much connection to my undergraduate school, which makes it difficult to comprehend deep sentiments. for instance, if brandeis burned to the ground tonight, i wouldn't shed a tear. i don't even think i would give it much thought. do i lack pride or spirit? it is akin to my absence of patriotism. belonging to immense formal institutions is impersonal with no beneficial elements. it is not the place, it is the people? (but not all the people, hence dissociated from the institution)]
onward to this state park with a short trail and a river/waterfall nearby. we spotted some pools, which annie was trying to direct us to, and scaled a steep hill/cliff to get down. freezing freezing freezing water. refreshing. once your body goes partially numb and you adjust, just about anything is bearable if not enjoyable. then we passed a giant statue of a squirrel at a trailer park. awesome.
on our drive up to burlington, we passed some other interesting sights: a bus stopped at a railroad crossing, which caused an accident with an antique car driving behind it; a two-humped camel; and a model of a jet plane of some sort suspended in front of a business. none very special individually, but excellent viewing on our ride.
we hung out saturday night, got some food, headed over to jake’s cousin’s wicked nice house. $750,000. it made me wonder if and how i will ever be able to construct the house i want to build. of course there are a plethora of details that i am ignorant of, but the task seems daunting.
another early morning to get jake to the start of the marathon. walked around burlington, drank some coffee, did some cheering. nice day, nice time. i missed seeing him run the boston marathon because of a series of events, but it is gratifying to see a friend succeed in doing something that they’ve been working toward. the skies were ominous in the late morning, so our plans of camping out disappeared and we made the drive back to the city.
i stayed in, drank a bottle of wine, and watched “Before Sunset”. nice, quiet time. great movie. resonates with that late twenties/early thirties spiritual and emotional emptiness. feeling that the few chances for real romance and happiness have somehow slipped by. realistic pessimism. the numbness that once you get used to it, feels fine. it also made me wonder about attractiveness. physical aspect is simple. sexual. zero or one. personal/intellectual/emotional is another story. i don’t think i allow enough time for any spelunking to occur. i dismiss superficial conversations as just that, instead of seeing them as gateways to more meaningful insights. i am used to talking about anything at the drop of a hat among friends and have not developed the switch to change over when trying to meet someone.
this movie was followed by “The Dreamers”, i guess it was a paris-themed night. eva green….rawr.
then i wasted today away. lunch, naps, reading, videogames, sox, bed. done and done, three weeks left to go before summer break. still no clue about how i am going to fill my time. plans and plans and plans.
i am most probably going bald. i’ll have to start growing a beard again to counteract it. and finally my running program is going well. this is the real test week though. 5 weeks in, 20 minutes of straight running. i am optimistic.
Contrary to popular belief, a week of vacation can be a week of anguish, languish rather, without pre-made plans or people to enjoy it with. On the upside I have had a good spat of time to think and ponder. oh joy. This oppressive loneliness drives my life. It keeps me in bed or on the couch, puts my hand in my pocket to check my phone for messages, causes me to wander to my computer to check e-mail or im messages. (By “it” I mean the reasoning for my actions) And when I do happen to be around people, let alone in some sort of romantic situation, it drives me to be overly aggressive and enthusiastic. Drunk on the glee of having someone notice my existence.
Add alcohol, an escape, an accelerant, exponential magnification of both sides of the coin. Regurgitated the next morning as some sort of guilt, regret, second-thoughts, or misplaced satisfaction. I do not think that I’ve woken up the next morning in 3 or 4 years with any kind of real feeling that has lasted, that wasn’t a mirage, a manufactured product.
Despite these realizations in full conscious thought, I don’t change. I don’t adapt. the story continues. And don’t anyone worry, this plague of loneliness corrupts even more of my being.
I’ve been watching a fair share of the idiot box as of late. Let’s blame it on the weather and not a lingering seasonal depression. Deal. But here is what I’ve noticed (I concede ahead of the fact that any commentary on television programming or watching is nigh meaningless due to the accepted fact that there is no redeeming characteristics in it due to its pure commercial/capitalistic nature). It is not music videos, sitcoms, 1 hour dramas, or movies that have added to the hyper-sexuality of our culture. It’s the commercials. Subtle tight shirts, heaving breasts, and tight pants. Bra and panty lines (I don’t think I will ever be able to be comfortable with the word “panty” /awkward), low v-necks hinting at cleavage, empty promises of light and sound. The message does not even have to do with the product anymore or selling a “better life”, it is about how many seconds your cornea will contract and expand your eyes and allow the rods and cones to actuate.
So what’s the point? It’s not an epiphany. What has happened is that it’s spreading, creeping into reality. I start looking at people on the street, in bars, at parties, and scan for the clues. What sexual clues are they leaving to get me to focus. What infinitesimal detail can I focus on, obsess about. It is ridiculous, and I buy every aspect of it. There are no clues, no details. There is not costume manager, make-up artist, casting director, lighting specialist to create the perfect effect. I am not supposed to pay attention, I choose to pay attention. We are not birds of paradise. This is not a mating ritual, we are not that lucky.
The constant barrage of these subtle sexual aspersions makes it acceptable to stare and gawk, to oogle and eye-fuck, in your own home and out in public.
(or it could be all about my pre-middle-age sex drive kicked into overdrive due to the impending fear of ending up alone for the remainder of my life and being overly focused on that fact, it’s 50/50 really)
imagine yourself entering a cave. don’t worry about the floor or your footing, it is as sure as it can be. the opening is lit and allows light to enter to a certain degree. as you journey in your eyes adjust to the lack of light. pupils dilate, ears sharpen, your fingers trace the cave wall. your travels go well, you are comfortable. then a spark appears. briefly. a flash. not enough to see by, but worse. your eyes lose their adjustment. disorientation sets in. you turn and spin. eyesight returns, breathing calms, footing remains sure. but you cannot recapture your ease. you’re lost. a ray of hope, a death sentence.
word vomit. it’s been a mess of a mental day. conflicting emotion and rationality. but still nothing substantive has changed. little use to noting all the stray thoughts since the meaning is fleeting. and what i need more is misunderstanding from within and without.
crosby told me to update my webpage, i’m procrastinating, so yeah, here it is
i’m still teaching, which is of little surprise and news. i wish i could provide some intriguing insight on this young generation or even funny stories about stupid things kids do, but i really don’t have any at this point. teenagers are teenagers and do smart things and dumb things, think they are more responsible than we give them credit; the world still isn’t fair; high school love is just as awkward as you remember it and far creepier from an adult’s point of view; apathy runs rampant; everyone is special; you get the point.
Children of Men : A-
300 : B+
Coupling (british tv show) : Still very funny
Heroes : April 23rd is too far away
Battlestar Galactica : WTF
World of Warcraft : almost done with that again
Brand New, The Draft, Smoke or Fire, The Loved Ones, Commander Venus, Dead to Me, Explosions in the Sky (music) : All on the playlist cycle
House of Leaves (book) : Envelopes me in the darkest, eerie blackness and the corners I don’t like sitting in.
Unbearable Lightness of Being : Very intelligent
Dylan Thomas and Charles Bukowski : Hit the poetry nerve of this year. Reminded me that simple lines can sum up emotion and don’t have to be analyzed.
No April Vacation plans, No summer plans. Open to suggestions. Weddings to go to. Girls to find and make out with.
Still trying to expurgate the memories and find something… neither here nor there.
I haven’t played pool in months and it bothers me every week.
I’m still overweight, trying to eat healthier, but am still missing the much needed exercise.
Moustache March concludes this friday, March 30th, party at our place, bring your moustache.
That’s it!