After recently turning 24, I thought it might be an interesting to project to document whatever wisdom I have recently acquired so as to compare year to year now what I was seeing, but how I was seeing it. The nature of these are varied, but that is to be expected; I’m less and less fond of boxes and labels. Here is a by no means complete list.
- Smoking in the bathtub is perfectly safe, except for the cancer.
- Some mistakes are easier done than said.
- Most people have good intentions and lousy methods. Be quick to support them with better methods, and quick to condemn those with truly poor intentions.
- Everyone has their drug of choice. The main types are: Caffeine, Nicotine, Marihuana, Cocaine, or Jesus.
This should be a good tradition; I think it would be healthy for me to remember what I’ve learned from year to year.
Sesamstrasse; Just in case you wondered whether this ever existed.
The real point of this post:
Recent discoveries and accomplishments:
- Some of Emily Dickinson’s poems are absolutely terrible. These, however make excellent country/gospel tunes; “If I could stop one heart from breaking,” is a good example.
- Autodidact
- The Tale of Genji
- Red Guitar
- The Big Lebowski
- “Hillosophy” (folk wisdom, e.g. )
- Getting out of debt — the hard way.
- Purchase of a Victrola! A 1921 VV-50, currently on layaway. Suitcase model.
- Finally acknowledging my inherent materialism, and staging a personal revolution.
- Deduced the difference between kerning and tracking by accident when someone asked me what it was.
“Do your children enjoy jazz music? For I am here to tell you that Cab Calloway, Dizzy Gillespie, Duke Ellington and the whole weed-blowing, ginger-colored lot are merely masquerading as musicians and are in fact agents of evil. Reefer slows down the smokers’ sense of time, allowing them to squeeze in unnecessary “grace notes”, giving this voodoo music the power to hypnotize white women into indulging in unspeakable acts of degradation.”
I had a dream last night. The dream had no characters or familiar places or faces or belongings. There was no plot nor any confusion. Just a single event which I focused tighter and closer upon as it progressed.
There was a tree, placed in the exact center of a barren valley. The ground was caked mud, heated and cooled until split and cracked and dried out, a chaotic checkerboard pattern stretching to the horizon. Mountains surrounded the valley dramatically and symmetrically, though I did not look directly at them. My eyes were on the tree. The dead tree
The tree had smooth dark brown bark, very gently muscled. It seemed familiar to my eye, but I could not name it now or then. The tree had no leaves anywhere. It’s brances stretched outward and upward strong without being brittle. There was one branch that stood out. It was large and stout, almost as big around as the tree, with an ovoid bisection. The branch extended farther upward than any other part of the tree. Slowly, without any visible mechanism or apparatus, a fine line began it divide the branch from the tree very near to the trunk. It was not a saw or knife, but more an incision that separated and pulled branch from tree, until the limb was completely shorn and freestanding, sturdily in the air some six inches away from its former home.
Then, slowly at first, then quicker, beads of blood developed where sap should have been. The blood thickened and pooled, covering the visible growth rings until it began to drip. At this point the entire scene began to look like a Dali, in that it was very surreal and purely observed, but the colors and tones had the look of painting and art, and now how eyes see. A subtle music built to a climax and ended abruptly, though did not notice it until it had been muted.
I did not wake up. The dream left me and I continued sleeping.
Malia bought me a pocket copy of the Tao Te Ching as a gift when she came back from New York. I’ve really enjoyed reading it, and I think it’s been in my back pocket almost everyday. Here’s one of my favorite sayings:
A great nation is like a great man:
When he makes a mistake, he realizes it.
Having realized it, he admits it.
Having admitted it, he corrects it.
He considers those who point out his faults
as his most benevolent teachers.
He thinks of his enemy
as the shadow that he himself casts.
In addition to reading, reading, and more reading, repairing my potato gun, and (alas) delivering pizza, I’ve been getting known to have the ability to throw a great party. So, after the Firecracker Jazz Band concert in Rogers Park in Tryon which was great, the after-party at my house did not disappoint. Appearances were made by the Reese and his brother Mike of the band, as well as numerous attractive women including, of course, Malia. Hopefully before I move I can throw one more good party.
Apologies for the long sabbatical. No lame excuses; I’ll just tell you where I’m at and you can do the rest.
I’ve moved away from Asheville. That’s the biggest news, I imagine. I left a lot behind, and I’m realizing that I shouldn’t (and don’t) miss much of it. To preserve who I am, I’ve had to leave a lot of folks behind I feel, and I’ve certainly lost many more friends then I have gained. There has been a lot of quiet pain had to/decided to deal with, and in many ways that’s all I can see in front of me; more life of just scraping by, and coping with old scars and maybe being too afraid to get new ones. School seems like a distant prospect, but I’m working slowly (the new SAT will make my October 8 probably very depressing.) Applying to college is a lot of work, and I feel it is such a long shot for me that I’m almost doing it a little to keep my mind busy and a little just to say I tried. I feel myself becoming bitter again, and that usually does not forbode good things either. There’s no future without winning lottery numbers or an education in this world, and I do not come from old money (or any money.) Without those things, even being a white male in the most successful capitalist nation ever to exist cannot save me from overt and enduring mediocrity. Youth is the only antidote for entropy, and I feel that even that is slipping from my grasp…
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However, some light hearted moments still occur. For instance, in my new place there is an old organ, one that Shane’s family bought from a funeral home. It’s a Kimball “Swinger 300,” with the nameplate Scotch taped to the front. The thing is so damned corny, the sound it produces is so un-funereal, but I love it. I’ve been learning how to play some things on it, and I’m going to try and learn a couple of lounge tunes which Dan will be able to sing at parties. I know he has some terrible suits, and I think this has some serious potential. What will we be called, though? Wit fails me; suggestions are welcome.
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Tonight was odd in one other respect; I talked politics with someone who claims his name is Howard Hughes III, and that he is the son of THE Howard Hughes (who was actually Howard Hughes, Jr.) He quoted (correctly!) Hesiod’s Theogony, Herodotus’ History of the Persian Wars, and Aristotle’s Economicus. He rides a bicycle, but only under cloud cover. He works at the Royalty Foods convenience store. I hope I run into him again.
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A party is in the works, which many of you know about. It’s very preliminary right now, I’m not even sure of the date yet, but I’ve been trying to build buzz. I’m hoping it will be an all-weekend kind of thing, there should be a keg, etc… lots of outdoor activities, maybe camping or paintball or whatever. Certainly a bonfire. If you read this, you’re probably invited, so please offer any suggestions. Forty-five acres can be a lot of fun…
I’m beginning to feel the tingle of my own potential again, something I haven’t felt in years. So many things will be up for renewal in a matter of months, and I hope that I can use that to navigate myself back on track, back to school. The good news, is that in preparation for the coming turbulence my mind has been very active and I’ve been doing a good bit or reading.
Right now, I’m at work. It’s almost 11 at night, and I’m listening to the Wu-Tang Clan. Timeless shit, yo.
It’s funny how just when you get your money situation under control, your personal life goes out the window. I’m looking for a new place to live right now, and the reasons for it make me very sad. My roommate and I no longer get along, and it pains me to realize this. I’m very disappointed, but I feel backed into a corner. I deserve better. I have three months. Three long months, but in fact a very short time. It shall be the end of an era for me, and I hope that you will all see a newer, better me come July 1.
I’m sorry.
