Thanksgiving has been great, family together on and off all weekend. Yesterday we watched "Brother where art thou", tonight it's "Juno". So I'm feeling warm and relaxed, and probably shouldn't be tackling a mini review of Of Human Bondage. But . . .
The first pages are so sad, and I think the two great early disappointments in his life are what bind Phillip for the rest of his life. He, like all children, have absolute faith in the invincibility of his mother. She dies. Later, he has absolute faith that faith in God can cure his clubfoot. It does not. His infirmity slows him, but it's his sure knowledge that life's point is to smash belief and thwart hope that leads to his calamitous decisions -- maybe even masochistic decisions -- particularly in regard to Mildred. Mildred is a loser, but a loser with a sugar daddy.
Phillip's savior is a guy with a ridiculous name, Thorpe Athelny (or Athelny Thorpe, I forget, and yes, I also forget how to spell it). This is a great character; all the characters are fully developed, unique personalities, an interesting in their own ways, which is maybe the best thing about the book. But Thorpe is the best. He's an extraordinary man in an ordinary life, and it's his daughter with whom Phillip finally finds fulfillment.
By the way, these people are all pretty randy. Yet, that Mildred's a hooker horrifies them beyond belief. Irony? Hypocrisy?
Sky wants to use the PC now to look up something about Wario. And so to bed. NOT!!
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Friday, November 14, 2008
True Enough
I've noticed that in the morning the wind always blows from the west, and in the late afternoon it blows from the north. And, it should be noted, in the morning I have to face west to see the bus, and after work I have to face north.
I don't suppose that's scientifically true, but it's true enough.
When you're lightly dozing, words get mixed up and inverted and you're not really sure what you're hearing. Maybe other words were said, and maybe it wasn't just one but many conversations, but this is what I heard today'
"In the puddle."
"No!"
"When that happens."
The Bolshoi?
"Yes I think so."
If I'd paid more attention, of course, I would no longer have been lightly dozing.
So I just finished Of Human Bondage. Now I know what critics mean by "great". I'm not sure yet why it's great, but I know what it is. It may be great, but it's greatness sneaks up on you. More on that, and the book, later.
I don't suppose that's scientifically true, but it's true enough.
When you're lightly dozing, words get mixed up and inverted and you're not really sure what you're hearing. Maybe other words were said, and maybe it wasn't just one but many conversations, but this is what I heard today'
"In the puddle."
"No!"
"When that happens."
The Bolshoi?
"Yes I think so."
If I'd paid more attention, of course, I would no longer have been lightly dozing.
So I just finished Of Human Bondage. Now I know what critics mean by "great". I'm not sure yet why it's great, but I know what it is. It may be great, but it's greatness sneaks up on you. More on that, and the book, later.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Election Day 2
3:30pm (CST) You know, it's apparent that the networks are preparing for an Obama win, and that almost everyone expects an Obama win, and that almost everyone wants an Obama win.
It's almost like we've been an occupied country and now help is on the way. I think most Americans -- liberal or conservative, Republican or Democrat -- don't want us to be a nation that embraces torture, that allows spying on its citizens, that has a strongman who ignores the legislature and the rule of law in general, that invades countries and starts wars without provocation.
It's an hour till the first polls close. Chris Matthews is saying "Americans want this election to happen, they want hope." So I guess he agrees. Now David Gregory is saying that America knows war but not prosperity, and Rachel adds it's the first time there has never been an inkling that the sitting VP would run. We want Obama.
Now MSNBC is recollecting, the first slaves brought here, the sense of history.
At Fox, no one looks happy. Karl Rove is forcing his smile. Perhaps the day is coming when he will be arrested. He should be. Crimes against the American Ideal.
4:17pm CNN now adds a Funnel of Drawers to its tech collection and, with the Movable Map, is close to becoming totally incomprehensible.
Back to MSNBC. I suppose I am not alone in being surprised to learn that this is not an "election", but an "election cycle".
Meanwhile, I get the cosmic view from the pets. The dog sleeps, the cat wants to eat and go outside. On the surface of the sun, on the pluperfect planet Wouldhavebeen, in the center of the Earth - this election is quite trivial.
5:56pm So I went outside and played with Sky for a long while, because we're surrounded by important things, and playing with a child is right at the top of the list.
But then it got dark.
Two happy things have happened: 1) the "Hateful Pastor" anti-Obama Wright ads are backfiring in Pennsylvania, according to Howard Fineman. Seems it's managed to get virtually every black person in Philadelphia riled up and out to vote.
NBC has given Kentucky to McCain, Vermont to Obama.
The 2nd good news: Elizabeth Dole is evidently going to lose her Senate seat. She ran that horrible, sleazy ad about her opponent's religious faith.
Please oh please let this be the end of negative advertising.
9:39pm Obama has 207 electoral votes projected), and California and a few other biggies in his pocket still aren't in. It's pretty much over.
Bye to everything George Bush is a symbol of: dividing, demonizing, bullying, arrogance, hate. America is free again.
Still, tomorrow's gonna be another working day, and I've got to get some rest.
That's a line from another great song. Hooray for us.
It's almost like we've been an occupied country and now help is on the way. I think most Americans -- liberal or conservative, Republican or Democrat -- don't want us to be a nation that embraces torture, that allows spying on its citizens, that has a strongman who ignores the legislature and the rule of law in general, that invades countries and starts wars without provocation.
It's an hour till the first polls close. Chris Matthews is saying "Americans want this election to happen, they want hope." So I guess he agrees. Now David Gregory is saying that America knows war but not prosperity, and Rachel adds it's the first time there has never been an inkling that the sitting VP would run. We want Obama.
Now MSNBC is recollecting, the first slaves brought here, the sense of history.
At Fox, no one looks happy. Karl Rove is forcing his smile. Perhaps the day is coming when he will be arrested. He should be. Crimes against the American Ideal.
4:17pm CNN now adds a Funnel of Drawers to its tech collection and, with the Movable Map, is close to becoming totally incomprehensible.
Back to MSNBC. I suppose I am not alone in being surprised to learn that this is not an "election", but an "election cycle".
Meanwhile, I get the cosmic view from the pets. The dog sleeps, the cat wants to eat and go outside. On the surface of the sun, on the pluperfect planet Wouldhavebeen, in the center of the Earth - this election is quite trivial.
5:56pm So I went outside and played with Sky for a long while, because we're surrounded by important things, and playing with a child is right at the top of the list.
But then it got dark.
Two happy things have happened: 1) the "Hateful Pastor" anti-Obama Wright ads are backfiring in Pennsylvania, according to Howard Fineman. Seems it's managed to get virtually every black person in Philadelphia riled up and out to vote.
NBC has given Kentucky to McCain, Vermont to Obama.
The 2nd good news: Elizabeth Dole is evidently going to lose her Senate seat. She ran that horrible, sleazy ad about her opponent's religious faith.
Please oh please let this be the end of negative advertising.
9:39pm Obama has 207 electoral votes projected), and California and a few other biggies in his pocket still aren't in. It's pretty much over.
Bye to everything George Bush is a symbol of: dividing, demonizing, bullying, arrogance, hate. America is free again.
Still, tomorrow's gonna be another working day, and I've got to get some rest.
That's a line from another great song. Hooray for us.
Election Day
12:55pm I voted a few days ago, and tool today off so I could help others vote in some way. I didn't do much. In fact I did much less than what was done to me.
I was asked a little after nine to pick up a lady, Charlene was her name and I guess she was about 65. She was sitting on her front porch in North Omaha, surrounded by a beautifully trimmed and manicured garden just a few weeks, maybe, past its prime. She told me she went out to empty lots and parks and found plants she liked, and she didn't really know what she was doing beyond that, just gathering what she liked. I said I'd like to see it in the summer.
Her polling place was Girls Inc on 45th Street. The parking lot was full and there were lots of cars parked on the street, and Charlene worried that a Brenda Council sign was too close to the polling place, that she sure didn't want anything to mess anything up, that there be nothing to cause any problems or raise any questions from the people who cause problems and raise questions. I just said I think it's okay.
She brought a chair with her, Charlene did, and it was a good thing. There was no one outside, but inside the line stretched from one end of Girls Inc to the other. There were a few white people, but it was mostly African Americans, and I went to the front of the line and asked what time those folks had arrived. "Eight thirty-five" a guy told me. It was now 9:28. I went back and told Charlene it's be an hour or so.. She knew some people and started talking to them, so I went outside and read a little and talked to a few older guys, and then I noticed how many of the people in line were probably as old or older than me, over 60, and I realized they were being patient and careful and cheerful, like they know someone was waiting to take something away but, goddammit, this time they weren't letting go.
Mari had said we'd probably be crying tonight as the returns came in. Well, I started tearing up about 10am. Here's why.
I had never done much, really: worked a little for RFK, went to Grant Park one night during the '68 Democratic Convention, out campaigning for Ernie Chamber in 1970 or '71, a few other little things. I'm a member of SGI, the world's foremost peace organization. Mostly, back in the day, I sang.
But it was like this was a big relief, a happy ending, a load off the shoulders. I just saw it as a long, long path, a hallway like the crowded one inside Girls Inc., from 1968 to November 4 2008, a light barreling through, people waving along the way, (who they were I don't know) and getting happier and happier the closer the light got to the present.
The past is being changed. It's being vindicated. It's being made whole.
And those songs echoed again.
"How many years must some people exist before they're allowed to be free?"
"Oh what a feeling just come over me,
enough to move a mountain, make a blind man see."
"Sing a song, full of the faith that the dark past has taught us.
Sing a song, full of the hope that the present has brought us.
And from maybe the greatest song ever: "Deep in my heart, I do believe we shall overcome someday."
I heard them all and I wanted to start singing them, but I knew I had no right to do that. The people in line did, if they wanted to, but they didn't want to: they were in the moment only.
On the way out - the weather was gorgeous - I told Charlene I wished I could be in Grant Park tonight -- for Obama's gathering -- and she was horrified. "You want your head beat?" she said. "The beat the heads of people trying to something different. You just vote and be happy."
So there are scars that even electing Barack Obama can't heal. Can't heal, maybe, but damn I'll bet we can transcend those scars so they won't matter so much any more.
One more song. (I'm a sentimental goofball, I know) (and a drama queen) (but, nonetheless:)
Far between sundown's finish an' midnight's broken toll
We ducked inside the doorway, thunder crashing
As majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in the
I was asked a little after nine to pick up a lady, Charlene was her name and I guess she was about 65. She was sitting on her front porch in North Omaha, surrounded by a beautifully trimmed and manicured garden just a few weeks, maybe, past its prime. She told me she went out to empty lots and parks and found plants she liked, and she didn't really know what she was doing beyond that, just gathering what she liked. I said I'd like to see it in the summer.
Her polling place was Girls Inc on 45th Street. The parking lot was full and there were lots of cars parked on the street, and Charlene worried that a Brenda Council sign was too close to the polling place, that she sure didn't want anything to mess anything up, that there be nothing to cause any problems or raise any questions from the people who cause problems and raise questions. I just said I think it's okay.
She brought a chair with her, Charlene did, and it was a good thing. There was no one outside, but inside the line stretched from one end of Girls Inc to the other. There were a few white people, but it was mostly African Americans, and I went to the front of the line and asked what time those folks had arrived. "Eight thirty-five" a guy told me. It was now 9:28. I went back and told Charlene it's be an hour or so.. She knew some people and started talking to them, so I went outside and read a little and talked to a few older guys, and then I noticed how many of the people in line were probably as old or older than me, over 60, and I realized they were being patient and careful and cheerful, like they know someone was waiting to take something away but, goddammit, this time they weren't letting go.
Mari had said we'd probably be crying tonight as the returns came in. Well, I started tearing up about 10am. Here's why.
I had never done much, really: worked a little for RFK, went to Grant Park one night during the '68 Democratic Convention, out campaigning for Ernie Chamber in 1970 or '71, a few other little things. I'm a member of SGI, the world's foremost peace organization. Mostly, back in the day, I sang.
But it was like this was a big relief, a happy ending, a load off the shoulders. I just saw it as a long, long path, a hallway like the crowded one inside Girls Inc., from 1968 to November 4 2008, a light barreling through, people waving along the way, (who they were I don't know) and getting happier and happier the closer the light got to the present.
The past is being changed. It's being vindicated. It's being made whole.
And those songs echoed again.
"How many years must some people exist before they're allowed to be free?"
"Oh what a feeling just come over me,
enough to move a mountain, make a blind man see."
"Sing a song, full of the faith that the dark past has taught us.
Sing a song, full of the hope that the present has brought us.
And from maybe the greatest song ever: "Deep in my heart, I do believe we shall overcome someday."
I heard them all and I wanted to start singing them, but I knew I had no right to do that. The people in line did, if they wanted to, but they didn't want to: they were in the moment only.
On the way out - the weather was gorgeous - I told Charlene I wished I could be in Grant Park tonight -- for Obama's gathering -- and she was horrified. "You want your head beat?" she said. "The beat the heads of people trying to something different. You just vote and be happy."
So there are scars that even electing Barack Obama can't heal. Can't heal, maybe, but damn I'll bet we can transcend those scars so they won't matter so much any more.
One more song. (I'm a sentimental goofball, I know) (and a drama queen) (but, nonetheless:)
Far between sundown's finish an' midnight's broken toll
We ducked inside the doorway, thunder crashing
As majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in the
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