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Showing posts from October, 2024

Of toilets

The British famously named one of their scientific boats Boaty McBoatface; in the same spirit, I hereby christen our new toilet Flushton McFlushface – “Flushy,” for short. (Karin’s dad kindly installed it yesterday.)

“Flushy” resided some days in our parlor, inside a big box, and became like a piece of furniture to us – which, I suppose, is what it is. Samuel and Daniel played upon, and inside, the box.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

The Middle Ages weren’t always so-called. Likewise, our old toilet, previously unnamed, is now “Not Quite Flushy” because of its position in the History of Toilets – and because of its chief defect.

We carried it out to the front porch where, due to rain, churchgoing (ours, not the toilet’s), etc., it has remained. With luck, it’ll be immortalized by Google Street View. This afternoon it toppled onto its side. I don’t know if it was pushed by wind, urchins, or stray cats; or if a part of it simply crumbled.

I intend to break it into smaller pieces with a hammer, to fit it into the trash.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Enough of toilets. For the second half of my reading year I’m plotting a march through Dostoevsky. Curious thing. His canon is crowned by the “five major novels.” Russians list them differently than do English speakers. Russians include The Adolescent; English speakers typically don’t. They might include Notes from the Underground (a novella) or reduce the list to four. It’s not as egregious as, e.g., Oregon’s having become the best college football team in the Midwest’s 18-team Big Ten Conference, but it’s gerrymandered, all right.

Anyway, I plan to read Notes, the Russians’ “five,” and probably The Double and The Gambler; so, either way, I’m covered.

P.S. See this useful webpage re: translations.

October’s poem

Ecuador 0, Paraguay 0.

More futility.

The ref and the VAR failed to decree a penalty kick for us.

Such mistakes happen less often in these days of video review. I’ll be interested to listen when CONMEBOL publishes the booth officials’ audio.

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A rather chilling poem by John Keats:

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
And in the icy silence of the tomb,
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights
That thou would wish thine own heart dry of blood
So in my veins red life might stream again,
And thou be conscience-calm’d – see here it is –
I hold it towards you.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Netflix just released a new Unsolved Mysteries season. One episode shows Britons talking with the dead. These spiritualists, with their fancy electronics designed for listening to bat-calls, first seem nutty … and then, well, they record some strange things.

Most remarkable, to me, is one spiritualist’s less-than-admiring verdict of another: “He’s possessed.”

You’d think they would have considered that risk from the beginning.

Too much

Reading:
  • Dante Alighieri, Paradiso (yes, still)
  • Isaiah Berlin, Four Essays on Liberty
  • **Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked this Way Comes
  • E. H. Carr, What Is History?
  • *Erskine Childers, The Riddle of the Sands
  • John Cottingham, ed., Western Philosophy (this anthology is terrific; if you only ever read one philosophy book all the way through, let it be this one)
  • René Descartes, Discourse on the Method
  • ***Charles Dickens, Hard Times
  • G. R. Elton, The Practice of History
  • E. M. Forster, Maurice
  • **Elizabeth Gaskell, Gothic Tales
  • Homer, Odyssey (this month’s fantasy book)
  • Anne Jacobsen, Nuclear War: A Scenario
  • C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy
  • The New English Bible, M’Cheyne schedule (Kings, Paul, Psalms, Ezekiel)
  • Anthony Powell, The Kindly Ones (bk. 6 of A Dance to the Music of Time)
  • Sally Rooney, Intermezzo (a library copy, barely begun; time is running out)
  • **The Marquis de Sade, Justine, a.k.a. The Misfortunes of Virtue (so far, basically Candide)
  • Peter Temple, Truth
  • Laura Ingalls Wilder, By the Shores of Silver Lake (bk. 5 of the Little House series)
  • Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations
Good grief.

* = for fall-time
** = for Halloween-time
*** = “for relaxing times”

My (cat) lady love

Happy birthday to Karin. I found an age-appropriate gift at Goodwill: a volume of James Herriot’s Cat Stories (large-print).

We celebrated at a Mexican ice-cream shop. Nachos, jalapeños, elotes, tortas, paletas, and ice-cream, washed down with mineral water: What could be better?

The shop’s Instagram page has a photo of ice-cream with spicy Cheetos in it.