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Zeno No More: .posted by ben on Aug 21 at 20:19


stupid dog woman... this has nothing to do with Winterson: .posted by ben on Aug 21 at 15:15

For some reason I have a visceral reaction when told The Tale of Genji is the first novel. On the most superficial level I think this is based in a deap seated prejudice in favor of European culture, a prejudice so potent that it borders on racism.

So, having come to my conclusion first... I set about reading about early European novelist again. I have a book called Mothers of the Novel that doesn't so much as bother with Lady Murasaki. In it, Spender argues that novels are necessarily public and for profit.

So... knowing little or nothing about Murasaki, beside what google has furnished me with, I can speculate that The Tale of Genjii wasn't written for profit and wasn't public if only because the literacy rate in 11th century Japan had to be even worse than 17th century England... of course, none of this is very compelling... in fact, it all seems very self serving to me... in an argument that arouses strong sentiment in me for no obvious reason.

I start with the proposition that European culture is best, and then build my pathetic argument backward from there... and even I know this is wrong.


Saint Ignatius: .posted by ben on Aug 21 at 15:00


Where the fuck is everyone?: .posted by ben on Aug 20 at 15:16

tidy requires libtool... libtool requires automake... which requires autoconf... which requires m4... oh, yeah... and autoconf won't build with the make that comes with OpenBSD, no it needs GNUMake. Stallman can fuck himself.


I've been awake a while now...: .posted by ben on Aug 20 at 13:56

Should I go to movable type? There's a certain cool factor to having written my own blog code... though if I stick with it, I ought to write a html interface and something so I can post pictures from my phone... and while it's possible movable type has these things, the volume of code combined with the shit liscense make me nervous... can't decide, can't get tidy to build either... The W3C sucks, and slack variables on the surface of high dimensional hyperspheres confuse me... explain!


putty lags less than ms telnet... yes, I suck: .posted by ben on Aug 18 at 21:37

Usually I think Revival Spanish Colonial is about the most hideous style... but I like this picture, apparently of a George Washington Smith. Though the only other pictures I can find are terrible.

I'm at the Triedent, and it's even more tedious than usual tonight. The old, jobless and intellectually arrogant are out in full force while I do my best to not make eye contact.

Lauren, Collin and I went camping last night... by camping I mean we drove up to a cold hill at treeline, yet paradoxically in view of all the twinkling lights of Boulder County. These lights did an excellent job of blocking out the stars until the storm front that's now, a day later, above Boulder proper moved in. And while Collin was all tucked away in his tent suffering from the neverending onslaught of prudery, I was outside in the rain... because I'm dumb... because I forgot my tent... and I was thinking... maybe if I leave them alone in the tent and brave the outdoors, prudery will die a horrible death... see how generous I am? So it rained... and I crawled back to the car, which was parked alarmingly close to where we were camping... and I read For Whom the Bell Tolls until my headlamp started to dim. Then I woke up when the sun did... but they were still asleep... and though the tent window was fogged over, I suspect prudery is alive and well... and then it started raining again and I hid in the car...

Today I got my drivers license... which involved biking through torrential rains with a flat front tire because Italians can't make bicycle pumps. Biking home though... that was actually good... by that point, I was completely soaked, so biking through the six inch overflow of storm drains actually felt good... the water a bit warm and the mesh toes on my bike shoes allowing them to fill with water.

Where is everyone? This is supposed to be Tridenting time... I thought.


Those bastards in geophysics were supposed to give me Erebus data.: .posted by ben on Aug 18 at 20:56


uhh...: .posted by ben on Aug 18 at 20:45

I just realized I may well live to see this poem four centuries old.

I've been reading For Whom the Bell Tolls. I don't understand. Whenever one of the characters speaks what is supposed to be Spanish, Hemmingway transcribes it in incredibly formal and archaic English. It's inundated with thees and thys and sir and so forth. Why is this?


explain: .posted by ben on Aug 18 at 20:42

No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe;
every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine;
if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea,
Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were,
as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were;
any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde;
And therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls;
It tolls for thee.

-John Donne
"Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions XVII."
Meditations, 1624

cheese: .posted by ben on Aug 16 at 21:00

"They want to get you the medaglia d'argento but perhaps they can get only the bronze."

"What for?"

Because you are gravely wounded. They say if you can prove you did any heroic act you can get the silver. Otherwise it will be the bronze. Tell me exactly what happened. Did you do any heroic act?"

"No," I said. "I was blown up while we were eating cheese."

"Be serious. You must have done somthing heroic either before or after. Remember carefully."

"I did not."

"Didn't you carry anybody on your back? Gordini says you carried several people on your back but the medical major at the first post declares it is impossible. He had to sign the proposition for the citation."

"I didn't carry anybody. I couldn't more."

"That doesn't matter," said Rinaldi.

He took off his gloves.

"I think we can get you the silver. Didn't you refuse to be medically aided before the others?"

"Not very firmly."

"That doesn't matter..."

-Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms, pg. 62

 

 

Wasabi

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