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Strange Connections

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Daniel:
I can't do a subjects of interest today, I'm dead tired.

I managed to get up around 10, get to work at noon, got off work at 8:30. My brother dragged me off to see The Fountain at 9:30, and I got home at 1:00 AM

Daniel:
Subjects of Interest Day 2

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

** I lazed in bed for some time this morning. Mainly because I could. It provides just a little more energy when you do get up.

** I did go with my mother to pick up the thanksgiving dinner from Boston Market. I had offered to come and cook a small meal that would not have had as much waste or leftovers, but she was insistent upon having an entire turkey and all the trimmings. Old ways die hard, I suppose. I don't think anything is wrong with a turkey dinner, but as long as I can remember my family eating this huge meal, we have never finished it (and usually throw out the leftovers 2 or 3 days later).

** On the way home I heard a song on the radio that I hadn't heard before: "Brandy" by Looking Glass.

(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda)

There's a port on a western bay
And it serves a hundred ships a day
Lonely sailors pass the time away
And talk about their homes

And there's a girl in this harbor town
And she works layin' whiskey down
They say "Brandy, fetch another round"
She serves them whiskey and wine

The sailors say "Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"Yeah your eyes could steal a sailor from the sea"
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)

Brandy wears a braided chain
Made of finest silver from the North of Spain
A locket that bears the name
Of the man that Brandy loves

He came on a summer's day
Bringin' gifts from far away
But he made it clear he couldn't stay
No harbor was his home

The sailor said " Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea"
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)

Yeah, Brandy used to watch his eyes
When he told his sailor stories
She could feel the ocean foam rise
She saw its ragin' glory
But he had always told the truth, lord, he was an honest man
And Brandy does her best to understand
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)

At night when the bars close down
Brandy walks through a silent town
And loves a man who's not around
She still can hear him say

She hears him say " Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea"
(dooda-dit-dooda), (dit-dooda-dit-dooda-dit)

"Brandy, you're a fine girl" (you're a fine girl)
FADE

"What a good wife you would be" (such a fine girl)
"But my life, my lover, my lady is the sea"

For some reason this immediately reminded me of Brokeback Mountain, and I was swallowed up by the great plains of pain that that film has provided to so many. Especially when you consider that the Great Plains is often called a sea of grass. There are a number of connections that I made rather instantly, but I am loathe to describe them individually. Some subtleties are far too beautiful to explain.

** Nothing really exciting or unusual happened at work, nothing worthy of notice. In fact, work went by as a blur. All 8 and a half hours of it. When I got home, I sat down for a few moments of immediate relief from the pain in my heels. I remember the television being on, but I can't recall what was on it. Oh, "Law and Order SVU" I think. I didn't have the energy to get the remote and change the channel, so I wonder how many brain cells I lost watching the rerun.

** About an hour after being at home, my brother and I went to see The Fountain, which apparently has received very poor reviews, no doubt due to its lack of apparent connectivity. Why do people go to a source of entertainment where they expect to be told exactly what to think...? Things are sometimes vague on purpose, and rightfully so. The film is worthy of its own blog entry, so I will certainly post something later on.

** I was driven nearly insane by the pointless advertising and inane drivel before the film began.

** I will say this about the film. I have heard it originally cast Brad Pitt and Gwyneth Paltrow in the main roles; but they left the project to do the film Babel instead. Having seen the film, I can say that Gwyneth might have performed that role well, but cannot see in any way how Brad Pitt might have performed with the emotional depth and intricacies the role that Hugh Jackman played.

Daniel:
What I am thankful for.

Every year, as long as I have eaten Thanksgiving Dinner with my family, the patriarch of our clan has insisted that we debase our sense of intimacy by professing those things which we are thankful for. I am grateful (thankful) for many things, but lack the immediate vocabulary to express it well when sitting at a dining table. In other words, I suppose someone else will need to give the toast. But I am indeed grateful for things, and on this special day, I can try to consider those things and profess them in some way.

I am most grateful for life, for the opportunities that present themselves to me where I am, in this current form, where my mind, heart, body, and soul can engage and reflect upon their presence and meaning.
Secondly, I am grateful for love: any capacity of one human to address and affect another, as Henry David Thoreau himself once spoke of. (See my earlier blog). Any ability to care for another, to see their needs, wants, hopes, and dreams and do what we can to see them completed. For me, personally, I would place hopes and dreams above wants, but it seemed more universal in application when given in that order.
I am grateful that there are people who understand me, at least as well as you all here do.  To me, it seemed almost an impossibility that anyone could understand my deep and intricate self unless I spelled it out to them. And even then there would be misunderstanding as words cannot capture the presence of mind. The mind, and perhaps my mind especially, seems to thrive upon themes and ideas, images and ideals, dreams and qualia. The most human philosopher has the greatest difficulty expressing or defining these constructs, so how could a normal person do so. It is amazing that human beings are able to understand one another at all, so I am forced to believe that there is some deep, symbolic depth of interaction that humans are capable of, and that it is this which allows understanding, rather than any attention to grammatical constructs of language or philosophy.

Whatever this deep and provocative "substance" is, this quality of the self that others are capable of grasping as I mentioned above, I am grateful for it. It is this inner being which a beloved film so desperately transformed; and it is this inner being which continues to ache by and for that transformation, whatever it is, however it occurs: a lifting of spirit towards some deep and transcendent meaning present within the universe itself. It has always been there, but I am only now seeing glimpses of the light filtering through dark cloud.

Dark cloud, dark cloud, dark cloud...... dark cloud?

An excerpt from The Cloud of Unknowing written in the fourteenth century by an unnamed mystic.

You must be careful never to strain your body or spirit irreverently. Simply sit relaxed and quiet but plunged and immersed in sorrow. The sorrow I speak of is genuine and perfect, and blessed is the man who experiences it. Every man has plenty of cause for sorrow but he alone understands the deep universal reason for sorrow who experiences that he is. Every other motive pales beside this one. He alone feels authentic sorrow who realizes not only what he is but that he is. Anyone who has not felt this should really weep, for he has never experienced real sorrow. This sorrow purifies a man of sin and sin's punishment. Even more, it prepares his heart to receive that joy through which he will finally transcend the knowing and feeling of his being.
     When this sorrow is authentic it is full of reverent longing for God's salvation, for otherwise no human being could sustain it. Were he not somehow nourished by the consolation of contemplative prayer, a man would be completely crushed by the knowing and feeling of his being. For as often as he would have a true knowing and a feeling of God in purity of spirit (insofar as that is possible in this life) and then feels that he cannot - for he constantly finds his knowing and feeling as it were occupied and filled with a foul, stinking lump of himself, which must always be hated and despised and forsaken, if he shall be God's perfect disciple, taught by him alone on the mount of perfection - he almost despairs for the sorrow that he feels, weeping, lamenting, writhing, cursing, and blaming himself. In a word, he feels the burden of himself so tragically that he no longer cares about himself if only he can love God.
     And yet in all this, never does he desire to not-be, for this is the devil's madness and blasphemy against God. In fact he rejoices that he is and from the fullness of a grateful heart he gives thanks to God for the gift and the goodness of his existence. At the same time, however, he desires unceasingly to be freed from the knowing and feeling of his being.
     Everyone must sooner or later realize in some manner both this sorrow and this longing to be freed. God in his wisdom will teach his spiritual friends according to the physical and moral strength of each to sustain this truth and in accordance with each one's progress and openness to his grace. He will instruct them little by little until they are completely one in the fullness of his love - that fullness possible on earth with his grace.

I do not agree completely with this philosophy, nor do I ask any who read it to. Instead let it speak to you however it will; many words sow discontent, but few words can clarify the greatest complexities.

Daniel:
It seems that I am not the only one suffering from some sort of seasonal disorder.

Allergies are in full bloom, at least that is what I think they are. For the past four days or so my eyes have been absolutely on fire. I can't look at anything or anyone for very long. It seems to be abating somewhat, but I still feel dried out. Will post more tonight. Must go to work.

Lumière:
You take it easy there, Danny!   :)

The seasonal disorder I am experiencing at this time is just the bone-chilling cold/winds we have been experiencing here over the last few days ..brr!  Gotta love ol' man winter!

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