Dog doing that thing where, having reached a slick he spot, he starts into a gallop so as to speed beyond it; I doing that thing where, attached to a now galloping dog at the moment I have started to slip, cry out for him to stop that.

“Deliberate practice involves effort and isn’t inherently enjoyable. Individuals are motivated to practice because practice improves performance.” (*)

Σοφοκλῆς, ὁ τῶν τραγῳδιῶν ποιητής, ἀκούσας Εὐριπίδην ἐν Μακεδονίᾳ τεθνηκέναι εἶπεν· „ἀπώλετο ἡ τῶν ἐμῶν ποιημάτων ἀκόνη.” sententiae

Finally started an offline proejct I’d been contemplating for a while, which I’m calling The Grocery People.

Premise: seems like every time I go to the grocery store there is always THIS ONE OTHER CUSTOMER I keep bumping into. These are “the grocery people” and I want to keep track of them.

My very first grocery person: a brunette in her 30s. Slender, puffy orange winter coat, blue sweat pants, pink socks, white tennies, basket not a cart. Ran into her among the salad greens, the “natural foods,” in a communicating aisle and by the frozen pizzas.

I was surprised not to encounter her in the self-checkout. In fact, here I started seeing some other familiar faces and began to wonder if one of * those * might actually by the day’s true GP.

Good appreciation of David Lynch. I would have liked to have heard more about how his conservatism and daring aesthetics are complimentary.

Main points of Iliad 16 for me: (1) the opening conversation between Patroclus and Achilles; (2) how the battle over the corpses of Sarpedon and Kebriones prefigures 17’s battle over Patroclus’ body; (3) the weird formulaic repetition of P. attacking “three times” and its reference to Apollo.

I keep forgetting about (2), and (3) is really weird.

Patroclus calling Hector his “third slayer” is also fairly odd, more Shakespearan than Homeric in feeling and again includes that idea of ‘3’.

The more I think of it, the more something “numeric” to be seems going on with Patroclus: for not only is he rebuffed three times in his assault (first from the walls of Troy, then from the melee around Kebriones) but in the latter instance he kills 9 men — for a total of 27. That’s an odd fact for the narrator to disclose!

Fascinating on Cold War era geopolitics in South Asia (in which I didn’t previously know I had an interest.) “Frozen Conflicts” is an interesting concept.

Yesterday the dog had picked up and discarded a dried-out orange rind. Today, I’m thinking of that when the dog has a multi-armed frozen banana peal in his jaws. And when I get him away from that, and am reminded of the previous day’s rind, I actually see the previous day’s rind, in which, today, the dog has no interest.

Love this. I will not agree to disagree.

A fuzzy from my hat somehow tied to the cuticle of my thumb and buffeted by the hot air of the car vent.

Noticing that moments after Achilles compares Patroclus to a child/ fool (νήπιος) weeping to be picked up by her mother (16.8), the narrator calls Patroclus a child/ fool (νήπιος) for pleading with Achilles to grant what will result in his own destruction (16.46). But feminine in the first case.

Usually after recording a song I’ll find it difficult to get it out of my head, having heard it so many times. On this occasion, I’m having difficulty recalling the first thing about it, even the title, as if it’s been wholly expunged. Obviously not a memorable song, you will say — yes but none of them are: this was rather an example of Immaculate Transference, I’ve come to suspect, from me to device, one to one.

………..I ominaion y
………..n……………. e
………..d…………… l
………..e………….. l
………..f…………. e
………..e……….. h
………..n……… s
………..s…….. t
………..e…… e
………..o…. i
………..f… r
………..h.r
………..a
………..a
……q……g
.au………..ra
lia…..b……vel
swin…ang…ines
ging..siron.. sand
Maryof Egypthami
dabashitru
nnel

A neighbor across the street when I step out, whom usually I would not acknowledge, I call out to — Heh there! Howdy! — the deep snow having so collapsed the perceived distance between us. We’re the only colored things in the street. She seems a bit annoyed but knows it too.

I asked Gemini (Google’s A.I.) to complete some analogies that had been suggested to me by a few recently read Homeric similes. Results are edited for length:

ME: how would you conclude the following analogy. “As ships are to horses, stones are to what?”
GEMINI: As ships are to horses (transportation over water), stones are to birds (obstacles to flight).

ME: How about this: “As stones are to snow, ships are to what?”
GEMINI: As stones are to snow (hindrance to accumulation), ships are to waves (hindrance to smooth passage).

ME: “As wave is to fire, fire is to what?”
GEMINI: As wave is to fire (extinguisher), fire is to wood (fuel).
(Of this answer Gemini further says: “This analogy highlights the contrasting roles of opposition and sustenance.” It gives explanations for all its responses but this one I was curious to know.)

ME: Last one! As fire is to wooden ship, wave is to what?
GEMINI: As fire is to wooden ship (destruction), wave is to sandy beach (shaping).

Finally combining all these analogies (or rather, the similes they came from), I asked it: “How is standing on multiple ships like an expert horse-rider riding multiple horses like how fire is brought upon a ship to burn it like a wave is brought over a ship to sink it like how the falling of stones cast as weapons is like the falling of snow?”

Gemini, while admitting this was an interesting question — in fact, it always concedes the interest in the question — discussed the meaning of each individual simile without making an effort to say how the similes were alike.

Isaiah 28:20: “The bed is too short to stretch out on,/ the blanket too narrow to wrap around you.” Impressed by how contemporary and universal in appeal that metaphor is: people over every epoch and walk of life know what it means to have too small a bed.

Learned the new to me word “prodrome” the other day. I’d forgotten δραμ- (which I’m guessing is where the “drome” is coming from) was a form of τρέχω — run.

Beautiful piece by Noah smith… The Players on the Eve of Destruction.

Surprised by the number of typos I encountered in my Vintage International edition of Knight’s Gambit. Just three or four but somewhat at odds with the meticulous manuscript notes of the Appendix.

‘Nothing by which all human passion and hope and folly can be mirrored and then proved, ever was just a game,’ his uncle said. ‘Move.’ (Knight’s Gambit. Statement about chess but with clear application to Art.)