Orientation begins Wednesday. For the love of all jayzus, Wednesday, do arrive with celerity. Because whatever anxious anticipation exists would likely be better off aimed at, say, more actual concerns (that is, notions with more than the vaguest of bases, though lud knows I love those well enough).

And, yes, apparently, am in Iowa. Not sure how clearly brain recognizes that, but how clearly does brain recognize anything? Have apparently gone back into "ignore livejournal and really most other things" mode. Which was bound to happen, suppose. And if am to be honest, will likely continue. BUT WHO KNOWS. And have tried to skim things and may try to poke at some things. Erk. Focus-fail.

Wednesday, you ought to show up. Though I suppose tomorrow evening will be, what?, the first meeting of the many? Which could be. Interesting.

For whatever reason (right, probably the grad connection, dumbshite), brain keeps jumping back to The White Devil of the Webster-written variety. And thus to hypnagogia (not sure what about it, but he-ey). Also mulling over how verrah, verrah excellent are the dumb shows. See heah, for a brief blip. (Brain also keeps flicking to Moby Dick, but that one's pretty standard.)

OH ALSO Hawthorne. Of the not-raven variety. Eyes and veils and faces shrouded and really, everyone ought to keep close watch on their eyes. OR SET THEM FREE, LET THEM ROAM WILD! And then see in autres ways. (Well, all right, you could try keeping your eyes AND opening what-is-it some more penetrating sight, but eyes are so easily distracted by surface and expectations. Not that expectations wouldn't set themselves when blind, so... Well. Vision in whatever sense doth tend toward the blurred.)

This post brought to you by nothing at all. Rather, by poking around course options and trying to figure what may-I propose to take. Because brain has had ideas, but who bloody knows. May be time to go back to some Malcontent reading, or to that French thing. HMMMMM PRE-HAPS. (Yus, that's correct. Prior to all the haps that ever happed.)

Leaving for Iowa in... under twelve hours, if all goeth according to the vague plan.

And I am online rather than finishing up that business of packing. Because this is clearly the best course of action.

Doooooo.

Way-hey, back from the fambly trippin'. Possibly a bit on that later, but FOR NOW it seems time to turn the attention to A Dance with Dragons, which I did indeed finish in none-too-swifty fashion.

So. Some thoughts. Here they be.

( Where 'thoughts' is a loose term, and spoilers do lurk. )

Maybe more later. Probably not, given actual motivation and the like, but autres thoughts may occur as am recalled to certain aspects of the book. VE SHALL SEE. and otherwise, further post-age should follow... hopefully-soon? Avec meme-responses, at the very least. Hmnhmn.

Fshhhhwyswsxhasshhhh, brain-zap.

Tomorrow (er, today, noon-ish, whatevvvvs) begins the fambly trip. Sort of chilling 'round and abouts in Michigan (PURE Michigan? XD FAIL-FAIL-FAIL, especially when crossing the border from Ohio because OKAY IT STILL LOOKS LIKE THE/A CRAPLAND AREA OF OHIO), probably because it doesn't take as much thought. Probably, we will end up in the standard areas (seriously want to put money down on those age-old falls, because for whatever reason, it seems to be the thing). Seems that the idea is to keep things more toward the low-key end, which is fine avec moi. The tent may be involved, so-as to have privacy and not be in the trailer in all its air conditioned glory.

At some point during the trip, there will probably be a Harry Potter-viewing party. Because going to the release didn't so much happen, just... Because it didn't, really. Excitement level not particularly high in that direction. Possibly in part because, you know, Rufus died a while ago. And most of that book didn't cull particular interest. BUT. Should be amusing, or somesuch? So rainy evening or at some autre point, it'll probably happen.

RIGHT HAVE SOMETHING THAT I MUST NEEDS SAY REGARDING A DANCE WITH DRAGONS. Which I'm just plowing through, except for the part where I'm not. At all. Because I am ridiculous slow with reading? Partly that. Partly the prep for trip-thing. And the all-day meet-up of AWESOME Wednesday (whoo for hanging out with ze cousins and sech). And reading things and things that give more sparks for brain. BUT ALSO I AM JUST SLOW.

So, yes, spoilers up to all of page 419. And not many remarks, because mreh, BUT. A something.

( What ever could it be...? )

So-o book will be going avec moi. With multi other books, though do not wish to choose... >.< Erk, damnit. Don't really want to work on collecting things to pack. Probably should. Mmmmm... We'll see how motivation goes. WHAT THRILLS, WHAT THRILLS.



Edit-edit. Also, meme-thing. That may or may not have been altered just slightly. This one might actually stand a chance of being accomplished (er, possibly a week down the road, given the trip... though maybe random internets time'll happen, who KNOWS?), should anyone go for't.

Give me a fandom, and I'll tell you...
-mein favorite character(s):
-mein least favorite(s):
-the character with whom I'd go for a nice, long jog:
-the best choice for a ROAD TRIP HELL YEAH partner:
-the best partner for a card game:
-the most attractive (oh-dear):
-who resembles me (who resembles you? WE'LL SEE):
-any other characters I particularly enjoy:

OR I'll tell something along those lines. We'll see. Fandom possibilities include Moby Dick (what it's a fandom I decided), Deadwood, Carnivale, Mad Men, ASoIaF, Harry Potter, LotR, Firefly, West Wing, Dark Tower, and god knows what else (M*A*S*H*? Vicar of Dibley? Foyle's War? Oliver Twist? . ETC. ETC.). TRY SOMETHING, see what happens. Etc.

Soooo am probably going to be taking a bit to a lot of a while to read through A Dance with Dragons (given autres activities, autre-reading, and general brain-distraction), bu-ut going to leave remarks here once in a while BECAUSE I CAN.

Cutting on account of possible sort of spoilers, though really, I'm making a few dumbass comments that don't spoil much of anything. BUT STILL BETTER SAFE, YUS?

So, er, around page 131 (as-noted, SPEEDY oh wait not). Not saying much, but blurting comments is FUN.

( Dragons dance, but only when especially tipsy. )

OH CRAP BULKINGTON AHAB GUYS YOU ARE ALL OVER THIS AND EVERYWHERE EVERYWHERE

Can we just keep going out to sea and being tossed about amid this brackish-gray always crashing mingling and never stark or sharply defined waters? Keep reaching for fragments of ideas and thoughts tossed on waves, grasping the slipping ends of these and re-weaving them, taking them into something nearly as new. Appropriate all the ocean for your use, and still the waters roar and still the wash is endless.

And though you drift alone and apart from living bodies still you have these scraps and scratches and above all the sense of your self and the ideas within finding form, given form through your actions and all strivings. What is seen at sea can be relayed only in reflection and through your lens(es), will never strike with quite the strength, yet you may return with word and thought, and some time it may at last connect.

And now the urge to re-read Moby Dick runs stronger still.

Which is to note that I did finish reading Beyond Good and Evil, and... damn. Brain spinning off, and eyes agape at some of that prose, there... Oh, the words. Oh, the thoughts woven and sparked. Mmmmn, yus.


"What things do we copy, writing and painting [...] what are the only things we are able to paint? Alas, always only what is on the verge of withering and losing its fragrance! Alas, always only storms that are passing, exhausted, and feelings that are autumnal and yellow! Alas, always only birds that grew weary of flying and flew astray and now can be caught by hand--by our hand! We immortalize what cannot live and fly much longer--only weary and mellow things! And it is only your afternoon, you, my written and painted thoughts, for which alone I have colors, many colors perhaps, many motley caresses and fifty yellows and browns and greens and red: but nobody will guess from that how you looked in your morning, you sudden sparks and wonders of my solitude, you my old beloved--my wicked thoughts!"
-Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil (trans. Walter Kaufmann)

Bits of this and that and a few or thises and thats... Because, WHAT, there are new people (er, new-to-here? new-to-me? somethingsomething)? HULLOOOOOO. Also because I've apparently decided to use today's random-time for the internets. Which hasn't been happening much, of late. And likely, I will soon do some more disappearing (er, yes, say fambly trip in about a week, what? and then about a week, and then Iowa, and... fuckdamn).

Er. In perhaps clearer terms. This strange level of internet-activity is not likely to last long. Partly on account of poor (and often unavailable) connection, partly on account of heyyyyy doing autres things, partly on account of disinclination, partly because it... Well. You see the idea. But while I'm doing some more extensive poking around, thought I might actually post a sort of something (we-ell shoot, there goes that attempt at clarity). I tend to be a bit (sometimes just a very small bit) more active in the land of tumblr, and that'll likely continue... BUT HEY, WHO KNOWS?

So. Right. Onto bits of this and that and thises and thats...

IT HAS BEEN WARM OH GOD SO FECKING EXCELLENT. Have been consistently not-cold for several days now. This makes of life a happy place. Or near enough.

I keep reading Beyond Good and Evil. And I keep thinking "OH-HEY, ICEMAN!" Talk of tomorrow and today. *face-to-palm* Just to take a sample line out of context: "[T]hey belong to the day before yesterday and the day after tomorrow--as yet they have no today."

Now consider Hickey in Iceman Cometh: "You'll be in a today where there is no yesterday or tomorrow to worry about." That also taken a bit out of context, though the idea is there. Certainly calls for thought along with context (and all of my flawed supposed-understanding).

Anyway, all I'm trying to say is, THIS PEACE IS REAL, BROTHERS AND SISTERS. >.> Or that the brain wants to read and think through Iceman again (oh, god, thoughts on pity, too), and I really do think it's high time. Or maybe after finishing this reading. Y'know.

Also. Tonight included an encounter with the end of part seven, in which Nietzsche tirades about-against women AND HOW GODDAMN HORRIBLE EVERYTHING THEY'RE DOING IS. Which was... Oh. Oh, it was fun. I write all the hell over books, I've been writing all the hell over this, but that section? Pretty much just "..." and "what the damn," "really?" and such-like. Particularly wonderful when he goes on about how wimmins all try to take over the kitchen but they suck at cooking so the population just can't be strong. NIETZSCHE, DID SOMEONE BURN YOUR TOAST? Just... damn. So much in his writing that sparks brain to happy places and twisting thoughts, but that? Engh. Still, good to know it's there. Have heard about his misogyny, saw bits of it in earlier sections, but this pretty thoroughly exposed it (it-it-it, ernnn).

Did like Kaufmann's notes in that section, though. Kind of running in, waving his hands going "WAIT WAIT GUYS uhhhh yeah, this is pretty awful" and making an attempt at damage control.

Otherwise, finished the latest read-whilst-walking book, which was William Saroyan's The Human Comedy. Put in brief (and compressing thoughts sadly, alas), if it seemed a bit blatant at times, was all oh-damn at others. Points and moments to keep the head tilted and brain quick-clicking. And would recommend for a fairly quick read. Read a couple of further sections (some Artaud action and a bit o' Walter Benjamin) from Krasner's theater theory book. Hurrah for cruel theaters, etc. (And yes, images useful, but keeping words isn't necessarily a ban plan. Still, would say.) Also continuing with the bits of the first two Song of Ice and Fire books. Would rather focus on the third, but as I don't actually own it, hey, 'tis tricky.

All of that rambled on longer than intended. Er. ERPS.

A QUESTION OF ABSOLUTELY NO MOMENT: Is Ahab a Greyjoy? That would be the immediate thought, and THANK YOU it is more than the "oh-hey, he's all at sea" aspect. Because, you know, Targ could possibly work, but don't think that suits Ahab's kind of call-it-insanity. I'll be thinking on this one. Not quite certain how-it-is I'd define or loosely define Greyjoy types, but... He's got more of an iron (right, I didn't mean for that to connect as obvious-such, but there you are) edge to 'im. Also, I dunno, can just see a Greyjoy takin' on nature, following it TO THE ENDS OF ALL THINGS because he/she lost a leg.

Ahab and the Drowned God. BFFs like-mad.

You just wait. Because now I'm all thinking about Ishmael and Starbuck and Stubb and Queequeg oh-god I need to stop. (BUT DON'T STOP BELIEVIN'! Particularly if you happen to be in marching band, because that was apparently the song to snag, this past year.)

OH GOD ALSO. The Clash of Kings prologue. Patchface who was washed overboard, met the sea, and returned an apparent-fool? NOW ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT IS PIP. Which raises the question of whether Stannis is an Ahab. Which also leads to Lear and that fool. And the net weaves on and inter-on...

GET OFF MY SCREEN, BUG. This is what happens when sitting on the screen porch. Especially when some of the screen isn't so very secure and IS so very hole-ridden (this happens when cats decide to try climbing on screens, oy).

Do not MAKE me say "piffle" at you. Oh, do not.

I don't know why I haven't posted this, but for anyone who knows how NEAT nature is (and for all-a y'all unbelievers who don't), see Neature Walks. You'll learn all about how to tell one tree from another (hint: you can tell because of the way it is).

Right, and. I've decided that there is something I rather enjoy about my name: the invariable variant spellings. How many different ways can we spelling it? Well, all right, maybe not that many, but enough to keep it from being too fixed a weight. So, hey, the spelling can shift, the name itself is loose, and there isn't much to say that it's binding. To hit the matter at a glance. (There have been further thoughts along this line, but for now, think I'll just spare 'em.)

On another note. I do sometimes feel as if there is an infestation of theater, theaters, and those presenting themselves as theater artists. HEY not that I'm helping this any. Just... every day, almost. Hrn. And not that a useful answer is to say NO. Just that it itches the brain, time to time.

Have this candle burning. Blueberry waffle, which doesn't necessarily sound like a good idea... But this candle. Is bloody amazing. The blueberry muffin one also wins, if in a somewhat different way. Actually, many candles are excellent and I HAVE A CONFESSION. I enjoy candles greatly. And smelling candles. Pretty much any time am in a shop or store of any sort that happens to offer candles? Yep. MUST SMELL THEM. The siblings do the same, so it sort of works? Anyway, candles. Whoo.

ON ANOTHER POINT OF CONFESSION (or point of, say, pride?), as already noted, I write in books. Pretty much all of the damn time. Granted, depends on the particular work and the time I've set on taking with it and margin space and whether am walk-reading or not and etc. etc. BUT. Writing in the margins and around the words. Marks everywhere. IT MAKES READING SO MUCH FUN.

This cat makes some strange goddamn noises.

And I should probably shut up now. Heyyyyyy rambling post. Yep.

Well-sir, have ordered A Dance with Dragons. Brain is curious, timing works well (oh-hey, family trip approaching), and birthday giftie card for Amazon was all "yo." So-o... ZAY. Granted that I've not read the others in a while, but what the hell; 'twill work, if with a bit of confusion. Re-reading some of the first two, but likely not to move far with that as, hey, autres works to be reading. BUT. Hurrah. Hur-rah.

Next item on your list ought to be finding ad adopting a pickle-foot. If you know not of the pickle-foot, we-ell, I suggest you get about educating yourself, now.

Ah, crap. Brain keeps going "heyyyyyyy, some singin' of ice and fire, heyyyyyy." Oh, brain. (Perhaps that should be "O brain!")


Edit-edit. Because I don't feel like kicking up a new post, but I do feel like noting that it is a GORGEOUS goddamn night for a drive. Particularly whilst listening to Slipknot (though The Doors also suited quite well, hmn). Just saying. HOKAY TIME FOR READINGS.

Let's play a game where it's Monday--and becoming rather late on a Monday, at that--and the stars ceased to be and anyway, somewhere, the sky spiraled out of control, so the stars wouldn't have anywhere to live. (And why deprive stars of their home, eh?) Some days, the numbers don't add up; this is one such day. As perhaps the numbers ought not to add up, after all, the fact or its appearance must be accepted, and so the slate that reads "2 + 2 = 4" is no more to be believed than that arguing "2 + 2 = 19." In any case, the typist is out.

What started with the impression of the sky quickly spiraled away. Ah, well. So runs the mind, away and away. Or(/and) the world falls, and the mind stays in its apparent little (or not-little) place. Better make its bed, allow it to stay the night. To act otherwise might be taken as rudeness.

The actual intent of this post being to set in journal the following quotes:


"So man’s insanity is heaven’s sense; and wandering from all mortal reason, man comes at last to that celestial thought, which, to reason, is absurd and frantic; and weal or woe, feels then uncompromised, indifferent as his God."
-Herman Melville, Moby Dick

"There are heights of the soul from which even tragedy ceases to look tragic; and rolling together all the woe of the world—who could dare to decide whether its sight would necessarily seduce us and compel us to feel pity and thus double this woe?"
-Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil (trans. Walter Kaufmann)

Nn. Suppose in terms of a few "oh-hey, this is what happens to be going on" notes, could say the following...

-August first is the noted day o' moving to Iowa and into the apartment (though driving out may happen the night before; 's currently a big damn mystery). Presumably, will then be more or less set for orientation on the seventeenth, and shortly thereafter for the commencement of classes. Becauuuuse August brings the beginning of this MFA Dramaturgy Dealie program. So, hey. Yep. This is, I suppose, the MAIN point. And there it stands.
-BERATE YOUR HEDGEHOGS, QUICK! June 25th is the day they get out of hand.
-I actually read a Jane Austen novel (the first after Pride and Prejudice in the days o' Hillsdale) and... actually quite enjoyed it. That is, the brain enjoyed mulling over the "hey now, what's this?" of Mansfield Park. Being removed from the Austen cults of Hillsdale probably helped somewhat... though starting Sense and Sensibility led to "meh" again, and finally read The Stranger, instead. Which was more to the thumbs up, though still mulling over whether it left much of a mark in mind... Ve shall see. At any rate, part of me feels guilty for almost-enjoying Mansfield Park. Then the rest of me yells at myself for giving a shit like that.
-I currently have the Walt Whitman song stuck in my head.
-I suppose I'm twenty-five, now. Whatever that means. We went to the zoo. Just because.
-Actually, there be a trip to another zoo planned for Sunday. This will, it seems, be the summer of zoos. Well, hokay.
-GAHHHH ROBYN AND AMY SOON GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. :D :D :D
-Fuck you, recurrent cold weather. (Well, "cold" being... I'm usually cold. The lack of quite warm doth annoy.)
-Sometimes, I want to punch theaters, or at least their publicity, in the face.
-Our grandparents came, and were here for two weeks, and then returned to California. It was something of an awkward time.
-The youngest brother graduated from high school.
-This is the space for things and such that probably require, if they are to be discussed, a separate post. The maybe not-so-snazzy bits, if you will. Feck them, anyway.
-The Nietzsche might be arriving today. 'twould be much appreciated, and much awesome. Hrmn.
-Oh-hey, look. It's Saturday.

I sort of want to watch Mad Men for the next five million hours. Brain is attempting to avoid. Probably, I will a-try to read some of this theater theory sterf. The Pirandello excerpt made for intrigued-brain; shall see if the next sparks as well. If that doesn't work, we'll try reading something else. WHATEVER THAT SOMETHING MAY BE. Hmn...