I was familiar with this, but never read.
And, so, reading, a curious book that quotes Eddington & H. G. Wells, the premise of which is that time is an illusion created by our focusing our waking attention too narrowly at a "spot" in our existence; and that as we move our attention forward the illusion of time is created. He argues that while sleeping our focus is lessened, and so what we experience as dreams are as much a view of the future - if we would recollect them - as they are of the past.
Some curious ideas within, and - a hundred years later, many of his ideas find their echo in contemporary physics. Some interesting thoughts to assimilate and consider.
- Category: Books
I hate to admit, but the good Marquis is a man after my own heart. Condescending, supercilious, yet he has a way with words. The translator, Coward, is clearly a fan - and - to be sure, the Marquis's reputation is built largely upon a few sexual peccadillos when it should rather be built upon his philosophy.
That is to say, much, if not all he did was a rebellion against the "Virtues" Church and State imposed upon it's involuntary members, yet rarely practiced themselves.
His irony and contempt of the mores expected of him merely reflect the hypocrisies recommended the populace by it's leaders.
So, in a sense, still very relevant today. His primary relevance lies in speaking truth to power.
And he does so in so very droll a fashion, the descriptions, for example, by Justine of her rape, told by the victim as if it were the sole intent to inspire and titillate the reader.
He was not unaware.
Anyways, a good deal more intelligence than you'd suspect, given his reputation, and - very much like Celine and Henry Miller he was very much out to provoke his audience. And he succeeded.
- Category: Books
The longest weekend of the summer. There will be more.
Whacked, nonstop, 7, 8, 9 hours running without a break, the restaurant, falling apart, customers firing into, out of the restaurant, 60, 70 per hour, seating themselves at dirty tables, it's crazy, maddening, you can't keep up with this. Monday, after all the shit that went before, by 11:30 is looking to be slower, by 12:00 is full, packed again, and so it continues, the same again on Tuesday. The smoke hangs upon the lake, the helicopters, water bombers are dunking and putting out a blaze up 9 mile, you see the red smoke like a volcano against the night sky on the drive home.
Tuesday, worth of noting, I ring out the most of all the days and do the least amount of work. The result of working with a competent team-mate, Saturday, Sunday, shit shows largely because you're picking up after others, bussing others tables, fetching others drinks, I'm ringing out $3, 000 on my own accord but bussing, bartending after $6,000.
Anyways, that was the weekend to be dreaded, and now it's over. Phew.
- Category: Blog
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