19 May 2016

Kinda scatterbrained reverie

Mes chers,

After all these eons of life, no living thing has ever asked: What’s the point!? So today I posed this question to the mirror and was told…

(Gosh I love non-monetized blogging.)

The press. The printing press. Someday physical newspapers will go extinct—that’s what the man on the corner of Main Street told me. Therefore the members of the press will wonder where their…

The members of the press will never wonder. This just hit me. They will never fall in love with the art of poetry. If one of them grows so proud as to try to get at the meaning of a poem, soon the others will start enjoying life as well; but then some sky-borne moneybags will…

Here are some other things that I predict will soon go extinct. (I write this in the late twenty-tens.) Paid jobs. Movies.

And the LORD God said, Who told thee that thou wast naked? (Genesis 3:11)

I think paid jobs will die because it’s ludicrous to believe that anyone would ever pay anyone to do anything that is already automated or being done voluntarily. People have big hearts.

And before the days of telethons and telemarketing, there existed primitive plays that took place in spacetime (not virtual reality). But then plays got wiped out by the virus known as technology, and the void they left was filled with motion pictures, also known as movies. But eventually film culture vanished because the play-shaped wound healed up.

It’s funny that Ronald Reagan was an actor who became an emperor. I’d have guessed his career would’ve gone in the other direction.

Is it not monstrous that this player here,
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
Could force his soul so to his own conceit
That from her working all his visage wann’d,
Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect,
A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit? And all for nothing!

That’s a quote of Hamlet (~2.2.545); and this next one is from Willa and Edwin Muir’s translation of Franz Kafka’s “Eine kaiserliche Botschaft,” which I share now only because it contains the ‘e’-word:

The emperor, so a parable runs, has sent a message to you, the humble subject, the insignificant shadow cowering in the remotest distance before the imperial sun; the Em­peror from his deathbed has sent a message to you alone.

Isn’t it nice that we find ourselves here together on this planet? I mean, we could’ve ended up in some vacant and faraway nightmare without a companion to relate to.

Let’s say that you design a dress. Would you go heavy on the sequins or not? I’d go heavy on the sequins.

Some people own exotic animals; some people manage pet hospitals that specialize in treating exotic animals; some people work for the Department of Defense; some people attempt to create new diseases that kill animals, in hopes of studying the results so as to prevent similar deaths in humans. And some painters paint paintings.

Why is the exclamation point so effective—it’s just a line with a dot underneath! But it feels so exciting too look at; so I tend to overuse it when I send my sweetheart notes from my wireless typewriter.

P.S.

Just so you know, our household’s scented candle passed away last evening; so we replaced it with a new one. The old candle was self-styled “Summer Slices,” and it was supposed to smell like “juicy watermelon and refreshing cucumber.” Its successor, “Mulled Cider,” is scented as “apple with cinnamon, clove and vanilla.” (I’m very happy to report that the new one is better.)

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