The books of my childhood were on my mind today. The stories of Thomas Hardy, Maugham, Leon Uris, Forester and Forster, and Conrad. Tales of adventure and hardship on the high seas and foreign moors, sometimes a relentless struggle to survive, or a tortured cascade of love and grief. Tales of living as a stranger in distant ports, journals of travel compelled by fear or duty or honor. Now all the stories are a jumble, but if they somehow formed my childish dreams, then I live in a world I've always wanted.
The adrenaline of departure kicked in today, and a month of roaming is exactly what I need and want at the moment. I know the waypoints, but the potential for discovery of new vistas and people is what gives me such energy. I may even visit my adopted town, and that is a happy thought even though in that place I am also generally a stranger. All along the way I will meet old friends, other travelers, who I consider to be my family. There won't be any hardship on this trip.
This week at the cinema was V for Vendetta, Inside Man, and The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada. The last is what prompted the thoughts of the old novels. This film is about a journey of honor and character, with some message that humility can be a powerful force. Some of the commentary on this film spoke about alienation as a primary component of the plot, but I disagree in many respects with those viewers. If one starts with a belief that humans should naturally have connection with each other, then this could lead to what I consider to be a misunderstanding of the story. My opinion is that the plot draws in many natural elements of people operating within a physical environment, and the animals and landscapes are as important to the story as any of the personal relationships. I think the story certainly has more than one layer, and is complex enough in illustration of realism to allow me to consider connectedness as much as alienation.
Just so you're not wondering, I felt each film had its particular strength, and each was enjoyable: V for being unique and so well executed, and Inside Man for being a very clever Hollywood formula which one would never expect from Spike Lee. Three Burials was a flashback to the style of classic novels of struggle and journey and humanness, and for that it wins my nomination as worthy of a second viewing.
I always worry a little before I depart, and so mon ami or mon amie as applicable, the search term if I fail to return in an appropriate time will be air disaster; derailment; kidnapping; industrial accident. Have fun.
The adrenaline of departure kicked in today, and a month of roaming is exactly what I need and want at the moment. I know the waypoints, but the potential for discovery of new vistas and people is what gives me such energy. I may even visit my adopted town, and that is a happy thought even though in that place I am also generally a stranger. All along the way I will meet old friends, other travelers, who I consider to be my family. There won't be any hardship on this trip.
This week at the cinema was V for Vendetta, Inside Man, and The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada. The last is what prompted the thoughts of the old novels. This film is about a journey of honor and character, with some message that humility can be a powerful force. Some of the commentary on this film spoke about alienation as a primary component of the plot, but I disagree in many respects with those viewers. If one starts with a belief that humans should naturally have connection with each other, then this could lead to what I consider to be a misunderstanding of the story. My opinion is that the plot draws in many natural elements of people operating within a physical environment, and the animals and landscapes are as important to the story as any of the personal relationships. I think the story certainly has more than one layer, and is complex enough in illustration of realism to allow me to consider connectedness as much as alienation.
Just so you're not wondering, I felt each film had its particular strength, and each was enjoyable: V for being unique and so well executed, and Inside Man for being a very clever Hollywood formula which one would never expect from Spike Lee. Three Burials was a flashback to the style of classic novels of struggle and journey and humanness, and for that it wins my nomination as worthy of a second viewing.
I always worry a little before I depart, and so mon ami or mon amie as applicable, the search term if I fail to return in an appropriate time will be air disaster; derailment; kidnapping; industrial accident. Have fun.
Some negative aspects of today:
1. I awoke to find the sewer system in my home/office backed up and 2" of a grotty fecal-laden sulfur-smelling liquid-like substance on a pretty big area of the first floor. This is the 4th time this week.
2. The father of one of my friends died today, and at 28 she's too young to loose her father. I called and she was pretty much beyond upset. In one of the long pauses where more condolences would have been awkward, I lost it too. I've thought of more to say, but she's already in the air back to London, to the arms of her family.
3. I ate two chocolate donuts, for no reason other than desire.
4. I struggled for hours with some chemistry calculations, and I now regret cutting those classes on molecular bond energy.
5. I drove quite a bit out of my way to shop at a particular store for a small item for the car. Not only was the store gone, an entire shopping complex had been built. So much for going back to the old neighborhood.
6. Someone interrupted my beauty sleep with a 0900 call regarding work, and I couldn't go back to sleep. The inability to go back to sleep wasn't because of #1, but #4.
Some positive aspects of today:
7. Living in a place that is inherently grotty means that an event as in #1 above doesn't really change the decor. Shoveling water is not a bad activity with the right flat shovel, and the rhythm of body motion and the flow of water alternating between force and gravity is enjoyable.
8. Time is not infinite, and this is a good motivation factor.
9. I was really hungry and they were really tasty.
10. I still don't have an answer which I feel is correct for the particular molecules, but I learned some new concepts.
11. I saved about $6, since I really don't absolutely need the item, and I was just driving around to avoid dealing with #1.
12. Getting up before noon is not a bad thing, and I put the time to good use.
Some positive future events:
13. Guys with serious earthmoving equipment, diamond-tipped asphalt cutting blades, and general-purpose pneumatic demolition tools will arrive on Monday morning. The sewer problem is outside, which falls to the lord of the land.
14. I can call a real expert in thermochemistry anytime I want, but I consider that cheating.
15. I'm leaving for China in 2 weeks.
1. I awoke to find the sewer system in my home/office backed up and 2" of a grotty fecal-laden sulfur-smelling liquid-like substance on a pretty big area of the first floor. This is the 4th time this week.
2. The father of one of my friends died today, and at 28 she's too young to loose her father. I called and she was pretty much beyond upset. In one of the long pauses where more condolences would have been awkward, I lost it too. I've thought of more to say, but she's already in the air back to London, to the arms of her family.
3. I ate two chocolate donuts, for no reason other than desire.
4. I struggled for hours with some chemistry calculations, and I now regret cutting those classes on molecular bond energy.
5. I drove quite a bit out of my way to shop at a particular store for a small item for the car. Not only was the store gone, an entire shopping complex had been built. So much for going back to the old neighborhood.
6. Someone interrupted my beauty sleep with a 0900 call regarding work, and I couldn't go back to sleep. The inability to go back to sleep wasn't because of #1, but #4.
Some positive aspects of today:
7. Living in a place that is inherently grotty means that an event as in #1 above doesn't really change the decor. Shoveling water is not a bad activity with the right flat shovel, and the rhythm of body motion and the flow of water alternating between force and gravity is enjoyable.
8. Time is not infinite, and this is a good motivation factor.
9. I was really hungry and they were really tasty.
10. I still don't have an answer which I feel is correct for the particular molecules, but I learned some new concepts.
11. I saved about $6, since I really don't absolutely need the item, and I was just driving around to avoid dealing with #1.
12. Getting up before noon is not a bad thing, and I put the time to good use.
Some positive future events:
13. Guys with serious earthmoving equipment, diamond-tipped asphalt cutting blades, and general-purpose pneumatic demolition tools will arrive on Monday morning. The sewer problem is outside, which falls to the lord of the land.
14. I can call a real expert in thermochemistry anytime I want, but I consider that cheating.
15. I'm leaving for China in 2 weeks.
From birth, I've been cursed by an inability to fall asleep easily, and sleepiness is most definitely not induced because some clock indicates 22:51. For a long time, while my ex was still willing to share a bed, this caused no shortage of hours staring at a dark ceiling or listening to crickets, accompanied by the inevitable worrying about bills or any momentary irregularity of my heartbeat. She had the ability and need to fall asleep at a specific time each day, and if I came to bed after she was asleep this woke her and she was angry. You know the type of anger: you should feel guilty for breathing, for living, for failing to act exactly how I want you to act...
Eventually I solved the issue of her frequent anger, which eventually extended way beyond interrupting her sleep, simply by selling the house and saying good-bye. I also learned not to fight the clock. These freedoms brought a happy roaming of deserted streets, or endless reading, or a focus on some real or imagined issue demanding a solution, well into the night usually or past dawn occasionally. I lay down when I'm beyond tired, and effortlessly drift into sleep.
The huge downside to whatever chemistry causes persistent insomnia is the inability to naturally awake at a time generally accepted as responsible and reasonable. When I travel there are inevitably early flights or trains, early meetings, or the tricks of traversing time zones, and I get less and less sleep. It is not uncommon for some days to run to 20 or 25 hours, and the cumulative effect is higher and higher levels of fatigue.
But, here's the rub: I like it. It is my drug of choice. There is an absolute inner stillness when the ability to process complex thought is broken by fatigue, when being tired becomes a primary sensation accompanied by feelings of reduced body temperature and respiration rate. Some nights, once I'm well past the point of productive thought and function, I continue to stay awake just so that I can enjoy the feeling.
One of my friends, who has one of the most conforming sleep patterns I know (up at 5 every day), keeps suggesting one of the various drugs to induce sleep on a timetable. A drug to suppress the pleasure of another drug, methadone for fatigue. I ain't doing it. Taking that pill is turning back to the command of others, submission to time, and acceptance of the concept that life must be scheduled.
I'm freebasing right now, two hours past the point of extreme drowsiness. So good; damn good. Spellchecker doesn't recognize freebasing, and that makes me smile.
Eventually I solved the issue of her frequent anger, which eventually extended way beyond interrupting her sleep, simply by selling the house and saying good-bye. I also learned not to fight the clock. These freedoms brought a happy roaming of deserted streets, or endless reading, or a focus on some real or imagined issue demanding a solution, well into the night usually or past dawn occasionally. I lay down when I'm beyond tired, and effortlessly drift into sleep.
The huge downside to whatever chemistry causes persistent insomnia is the inability to naturally awake at a time generally accepted as responsible and reasonable. When I travel there are inevitably early flights or trains, early meetings, or the tricks of traversing time zones, and I get less and less sleep. It is not uncommon for some days to run to 20 or 25 hours, and the cumulative effect is higher and higher levels of fatigue.
But, here's the rub: I like it. It is my drug of choice. There is an absolute inner stillness when the ability to process complex thought is broken by fatigue, when being tired becomes a primary sensation accompanied by feelings of reduced body temperature and respiration rate. Some nights, once I'm well past the point of productive thought and function, I continue to stay awake just so that I can enjoy the feeling.
One of my friends, who has one of the most conforming sleep patterns I know (up at 5 every day), keeps suggesting one of the various drugs to induce sleep on a timetable. A drug to suppress the pleasure of another drug, methadone for fatigue. I ain't doing it. Taking that pill is turning back to the command of others, submission to time, and acceptance of the concept that life must be scheduled.
I'm freebasing right now, two hours past the point of extreme drowsiness. So good; damn good. Spellchecker doesn't recognize freebasing, and that makes me smile.
Update: Security Alert! Somebody randomly breaks into my journal, leaves disjointed prose, then disappears into the ether. I'm going to find out, someday...
I've noticed that the majority of journals here generally attest to inebriation or other altered state of consciousness, debilitating horniness, gluttony, or sloth, with the balance either a swoon or a swoop directed toward the object of a member's affection. None of this applies to my friends list, since they are unique and virtuous unto themselves.
I am unguided in how to describe nothingness, or more correctly the consciousness of action without intention to achieve anything for others. Today I did exactly what I intended to do and accomplished what was planned; all had little meaning or value to anyone other than myself. It takes long reflection to go past the restraints and boundaries of social purpose and economic value, and this can be viewed either as illness or enlightenment.
Yesterday was illness. Excessive recrimination indiscriminately directed at others and myself. Unrealized expectations. People around me fabricating promises to placate those who deserve the truth, and I am ashamed. Pushing and pulling thin jute strings, which only yield or coil to no effect.
Today was enlightenment. I balanced by the release of all dreams and goals, and a focus on action: wield the hammer and heat the steel until it has conformed to my own sense of beauty; score the glass and strike it sharply so the fragments fly away to reveal a vision; compose a sentence only I will read; observe the reflection of light on the infinite sky.
A church window originally built in 1887, but this glass was restored recently. Professionally done, but not to the original copper and lead joining of the pieces. Personnally, this "modern" technique for restorations is shit.
I've noticed that the majority of journals here generally attest to inebriation or other altered state of consciousness, debilitating horniness, gluttony, or sloth, with the balance either a swoon or a swoop directed toward the object of a member's affection. None of this applies to my friends list, since they are unique and virtuous unto themselves.
I am unguided in how to describe nothingness, or more correctly the consciousness of action without intention to achieve anything for others. Today I did exactly what I intended to do and accomplished what was planned; all had little meaning or value to anyone other than myself. It takes long reflection to go past the restraints and boundaries of social purpose and economic value, and this can be viewed either as illness or enlightenment.
Yesterday was illness. Excessive recrimination indiscriminately directed at others and myself. Unrealized expectations. People around me fabricating promises to placate those who deserve the truth, and I am ashamed. Pushing and pulling thin jute strings, which only yield or coil to no effect.
Today was enlightenment. I balanced by the release of all dreams and goals, and a focus on action: wield the hammer and heat the steel until it has conformed to my own sense of beauty; score the glass and strike it sharply so the fragments fly away to reveal a vision; compose a sentence only I will read; observe the reflection of light on the infinite sky.
A church window originally built in 1887, but this glass was restored recently. Professionally done, but not to the original copper and lead joining of the pieces. Personnally, this "modern" technique for restorations is shit.
First, to everyone, best wishes for the new year...
Second, have you ever noticed how serious alcoholics have a very clear view of the world and it's ills, irrefutable proof, as applicable, of the incompetence of leaders in academia, the church, or the government, MRIs of the delusional brains of the megalomaniacs in some position of authority, and the perfect solution to each problem at hand?
Here is how my last several memos have been worded:
Blah (current state of affairs), blah (options for a logical course of action), blah (recommendations for remediation), and furthermore, blah (endgame scenarios if you fail to act), blah (the meaning of "irrevocable"), and blah (financial ramifications, or risks in adjudication, of such failure to act).
Then I get to the crux of the matter: you people*, for all intensive purposes, behave like inflamed and oozy rectal tissue**, misshapen pustules on humanity, and ill-bred replications of parasitic invertebrates. Inexplicably, you consistently demonstrate your incapacity for basic cognitive processes in the most egregious manner. I'm not even sure if the meager cost of the propane necessary to incinerate you is worth the expense but I'll borrow the money if necessary.
From their viewpoint, and I'm always sensitive to the feelings and opinions of others, I must be an over-the-edge alcoholic. So, why should I not comport myself accordingly?
*This is a specific "you people" denoting only those who are obligated to pay me for services, and does not in any manner refer to any past or present observer, reader, moderator, participant, member, owner, or model, or their respective agents, successors, or assignees, of the SG community or this site.
**In the interest of civility and a concern for the use of insensitive or inflammatory rhetoric in a public forum, I have omitted several of the more forceful and colorful phrases which depict the utterly vile and repugnant nature of having to attend to such tissue on a day-to-day basis.
Update 12-31-05
Forget all the bile in the post above. Tonight was beyond all expectations for happiness, kinship, and plain fun. A really happy time and a great dinner at a Buddhist restaurant with many of my friends. They wanted an group photo:
I'm very happy. The fireworks have started. Only an hour remains of 2005, and I'm optomistic for the new year.
Second, have you ever noticed how serious alcoholics have a very clear view of the world and it's ills, irrefutable proof, as applicable, of the incompetence of leaders in academia, the church, or the government, MRIs of the delusional brains of the megalomaniacs in some position of authority, and the perfect solution to each problem at hand?
Here is how my last several memos have been worded:
Blah (current state of affairs), blah (options for a logical course of action), blah (recommendations for remediation), and furthermore, blah (endgame scenarios if you fail to act), blah (the meaning of "irrevocable"), and blah (financial ramifications, or risks in adjudication, of such failure to act).
Then I get to the crux of the matter: you people*, for all intensive purposes, behave like inflamed and oozy rectal tissue**, misshapen pustules on humanity, and ill-bred replications of parasitic invertebrates. Inexplicably, you consistently demonstrate your incapacity for basic cognitive processes in the most egregious manner. I'm not even sure if the meager cost of the propane necessary to incinerate you is worth the expense but I'll borrow the money if necessary.
From their viewpoint, and I'm always sensitive to the feelings and opinions of others, I must be an over-the-edge alcoholic. So, why should I not comport myself accordingly?
*This is a specific "you people" denoting only those who are obligated to pay me for services, and does not in any manner refer to any past or present observer, reader, moderator, participant, member, owner, or model, or their respective agents, successors, or assignees, of the SG community or this site.
**In the interest of civility and a concern for the use of insensitive or inflammatory rhetoric in a public forum, I have omitted several of the more forceful and colorful phrases which depict the utterly vile and repugnant nature of having to attend to such tissue on a day-to-day basis.
Update 12-31-05
Forget all the bile in the post above. Tonight was beyond all expectations for happiness, kinship, and plain fun. A really happy time and a great dinner at a Buddhist restaurant with many of my friends. They wanted an group photo:
I'm very happy. The fireworks have started. Only an hour remains of 2005, and I'm optomistic for the new year.
Chirstmas Eve. My choice was to get on a plane in about 6 hours, have a turkey-free Christmas dinner in Heathrow tomorrow, then fly on to China. It's work, but still much fun for me. For most of the past 10 Chirstmas holidays I've gone to non-christian countries, which suits me just fine. I guess that now makes me unpatriotic, since that seems to be the new label for nonconformity. I cut off all labels.
