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Les Français et les Belges pensent que nous sommes fous de nous débarrasser d’un actif aussi stratégique et précieux (8)

*

Portrait of a Lady. The search for “Experience” will ultimately uncover only a core of falsity that exists solely to preserve its own appearances, (the essence of “Experience” is “appearances for their own sake”). But those who love truly are free from appearances and aren’t beholden to what people may think.

Side by side, faces forward, four hands clasping four elbows,…

“Almost everyday, I hike up the hill out my back door. Within a hundred yards the woods swallow me up, and there is nothing to remind me of human society — no trash, no stumps, no fence, not even a real path. Looking out from the high places, you can’t see road or house; it is a world apart from man. But once in a while someone will be cutting wood farther down the valley, and the snarl of a chain saw will fill the woods. It is harder on those days to get caught up in the timeless meaning of the forest, for man is nearby. The sound of the chain saw doesn’t blot out all the noises of the forest or drive the animals away, but it does drive away the feeling that you are in another, separate, timeless, wild sphere.” Bill Mckibben, The End of Nature (1988) [Page 40.]

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Populations of mammals, birds, fish, reptiles and amphibians have declined by 60 percent since 1970, according to a report released Monday by the advocacy group World Wildlife Fund. The animals that remain will fight against warming oceans choked with plastic, toppled rain forests may zero out fragile species, and refuges such as coral reefs may nearly die off… POST 10/30/18 (Explanation of what this exactly means here. Essentially, the absolute number of animals hasn’t declined by sixty percent, but the average species has lost sixty percent of its population.)

“I miss him already, the best president of my lifetime.”

“le marais livide” “de longs haillons de brumes” [ Mallarmé]

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Our societal advancements are not close to keeping pace with our technological advancements — Gil Scott-Heron – Whitey On the Moon

*

As late as July 1921 the “New York Times” was calling it wireless telephony, and wireless remained widespread until World War II, when military preference for radio established it as the word.… radio (n.)

Chaque artiste semble ainsi comme le citoyen d’une patrie inconnue, oubliée de lui-même, différente de celle d’où viendra, appareillant pour la terre, un autre grand artiste. ***

and “We are the tongues into Being” is absurdly supposed, and “We are The Tongues and Tongs of God,” is absurdly thought…Opening Wrong Cabinet

What do we know of the experience of being ignorant, of how it feels? We know of the experience of being ignorant that it resembles closely the feeling of thinking one knows, the feeling, indeed, of being omniscient. (Perhaps even the numbness of total unknowing is a sort of presumption of knowledge… Would we go so far as to say that that person whom we deem most ignorant feels himself to be most omniscient?)

Does the feeling of (actually) knowing differ in any way (in many ways?) from the feeling of incorrectly thinking one knows? In the way we just said, yes, ignorance is a far more sweeping feeling of knowing, of knowing all, than actual knowing. The person who thinks he knows more than he does thinks also that knowing is more than it is. (Perhaps: real knowing isn’t a “feeling” at all while thinking one knows is. And yet knowing, whether correct or incorrect, can often be accompanied by a feeling of victory.)

Additionally, although those who know tend to be guarded and cautious about the things they know, there is one thing which, through experience, they have come to know with confidence and certainty: and that is the misconceptions of those who only think they know. (That is, experts know very well the errors of amateurs and students of their field.) These — the misconceptions — the knowers may know even better than the thing they hope to know about, we suggest.

4.38 / trans.
καὶ ὅκου ἔνι τοῦ σώματος ἱδρὼς, ἐνταῦθα φράζει τὴν νοῦσον.

Tracking Tax Runaways ; Apollinaire recite le pont Mirabeau ; Literature is against us (int. anne Boyer); saving electricity / air conditioning; Electrons and their Interactions — Richard Feynman ; ETRUSCAN ENGINEERING & AGRICULTURAL ACHIEVEMENTS ; Kurtis Blow – Basketball ; What we’re doing to the Earth has no parallel in 66 million years … [POST]

A ‘mad monologue’: he is –a conspiracy theorist or paranoid– he thinks that historical events (he concentrates on 9/11 but knows a few you haven’t heard of) are conspiracies to keep us from thinking of our personal lives, that all history has been invented to keep us from thinking about ourselves.

Why can’t we think about ourselves, he wants to know? The world movers don’t want me to contemplate me so they dream up and orchestrate these extraordinary “historical” things that supposedly happen to us. And they don’t care what history is just so long as it’s got “big events”.( They know what would happen were people ever to “know themselves” and they know that under those conditions there certainly wouldn’t be any “history”.)

Child with mother behind, rushing toward street.

Three couples with dogs, each with very big dogs.

Mother and daughter returning from memorial day celebration — mother, head down, pushing crib up the steep hill. Daughter, smiling to herself, head to one side.

Wanted to call them “Elleman turns” (U Turn) a sedan and service truck in synchronicity.

Bird propelling itself with wings just enough to get over the fence; having passed that mark, let herself flop.

Ethiopian gal asking directions to DMV (Day — um- vay) with umbrella for the strong sun.

Couple crossing, as I cross, — do I go between them as my trajectory and a sense of symmetry suggests, or instead be obedient to a vague social principle?

The idea is not that “everything I think is wrong” but that “everything I think is wildly wrong” (that the area of what I think does not, perhaps will not, intersect the area of what is the case)

Like two feet: a white van in the right lane accelerating then gliding forward, followed by a yellow school bus, a heavy step on the gas, then gliding by the white service van.

Just passed by a woman jogger — expect as she passes to breathe in her perfume– but at that moment I become enclosed in a block of aroma from a different source: laundry is being done in nearby home; strong scent of Bounce or similar product.

Area between the cuff of the electrician’s pants and the sole of his shoe, the brown curving part of the heel, or back, carved out by the grey end of the pant leg.

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“Herzog wrote letters to order his thoughts; Bellow wrote a book, the one you are reading”… Article touches on a number issues for me. First of all, a perplexity about the various levels of text that occur in Herzog (which I somewhat addressed in a fictional context here: substitute “tweet” for “jot”), but also the idea that I’ve had about Markson’s This Is Not A Novel that it is most comparable to a Twitter feed — that it really is not a novel, and perhaps not even an artwork, because unlike Herzog, there isn’t a context provided for the “tweet.” (The context of This Is Not A Novel, such as it is, is that there is this real person, David Markson, who is an artful, knowledgeable person tweeting.) Finally there is the idea that Bellow was being unfair in Herzog, giving a highly subjective account of a real autobiographical episode of his life. Though I couldn’t say why, I wonder if that kind of unfairness is demanded by a novel, while the opposite is demanded by tweeting and social media — because after all, that is really us in social media, and most of us like to be regarded as being fair; and, too, whether we have been fair or not is rather more verifiable in social media than in fiction.