I am horrified at the death and cruelty one man delivered in Oslo, Norway. If you can't persuade with logic and reason people to understand and adopt your political views then open fire.
We are on very limited means right now, until the 29th of July. I blame myself of course, having initiated a refinance that required a cashier's cheque of the amount equal to three weeks' living expenses. I liquidated two silver coins and did some creative rearrangement of funds, shopped at a very low-cost grocery for vegetables, and started pulling food from our garden. We're also using two-for-one coupons and searching for money in the house. Again, this is only for another week, but it's $20/day. It'd be a lot worse if we didn't have a full freezer, and had to take the car out everyday.
We'll see how far $27 takes me. I imagine there'll be many lentil and bean, soba and udon dishes this week. On the plus side, we won't have a mortgage payment until September 1 at the earliest, and an escrow refund cheque by September 15.
I've read The Pope's War by Matthew Fox, and recognized several names on the "Wall" appendix, theologians, clerics and women religious who have been silenced or deemed dissident. Contrarian/perverse that I am, I am interested to read the works of the dissenters. All I need is a stamp and the will to walk to the post office to send a postcard to an eighty-three-year-old professor emeritus telling him how lately I came across his writings: he is one of the dissidents. I am always a dissident of counter-reformation and corrupt hierarchy. How out and proud I am about being a dissident, well, obviously not much. I can't say that the current antics of the Vatican, nor learning that while Jesus was interested only in reforming the spirituality and rules of his Jewish faith and appointed twelve MARRIED JEWISH MEN, to represent the twelve tribes of Israel, the Catholic Church decided two of those three qualifications had to go a thousand years after Jesus abandoned preaching exclusively to Judea and started traveling and introducing Gentiles to the Word of God. But not all three of them. As the original Gospels get translated and reinterpreted to suit church powers, a New Testament reader can't be at all certain what was originally meant. And if the qualifications for preachers and Eucharistic ministers changed, who's to say that no books now apocrypha were included in earlier versions of the New Testament?
Life Unlocked: 7 Revolutionary Lessons to Overcome Fear by Srinivasan S. Pillay
The Tao of Abundance: Eight Ancient Principles for Living Abundantly in the 21st Century (Compass) by Laurence G. Boldt
I am reading Cat's Cradle by Vonnegut. Fascinating. Vonnegut and Murakami are almost always out of the libraries I frequent.
Five minutes later edit OH YEAH I am now on Google+.
22 July 2011
20 July 2011
why read the classics
Why Read the Classics
Italo Calvino
The classics are the books of which we usually hear people say, "I am rereading . . . " and never "I am reading . . . "
We use the words "classics" for books that are treasured by those who have read and loved them; but they are treasured no less by those who have the luck to read them for the first time in the best conditions to enjoy them
The classics are books that exert a peculiar influence, both when they refuse to be eradicated from the mind and when they conceal themselves in the folds of memory, camouflaging themselves as the collective or individual unconscious.
Every rereading of a classic is as much a voyage of discovery as the first reading.
Every reading of a classic is in fact a rereading.
A classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say.
The classics are the books that come down to us bearing the traces of readings previous to ours, and bringing in their wake the traces they themselves have left on the culture or cultures they have passed through (or, more simply, on language and customs).
A classic does not necessarily teach us anything we did not know before. In a classic we sometimes discover something we have always known (or thought we knew), but without knowing that this author said it first, or at least is associated with it in a special way. And this, too, is a surprise that gives much pleasure, such as we always gain from the discovery of an origin, a relationship, an affinity.
The classics are books which, upon reading, we find even fresher, more unexpected, and more marvelous than we had thought from hearing about them.
We use the word "classic" of a book that takes the form of an equivalent to the universe, on a level with the ancient talismans. With this definition we are approaching the idea of the "total book," as Mallarmé conceived of it.
Your classic author is the one you cannot feel indifferent to, who helps you to define yourself in relation to him, even in dispute with him.
A classic is a book that comes before other classics; but anyone who has read the others first, and then reads this one, instantly recognizes its place in the family tree.
A classic is something that tends to relegate the concerns of the moment to the status of background noise, but at the same time this background noise is something we cannot do without.
A classic is something that persists as a background noise even when the most incompatible momentary concerns are in control of the situation.
Italo Calvino
The classics are the books of which we usually hear people say, "I am rereading . . . " and never "I am reading . . . "
We use the words "classics" for books that are treasured by those who have read and loved them; but they are treasured no less by those who have the luck to read them for the first time in the best conditions to enjoy them
The classics are books that exert a peculiar influence, both when they refuse to be eradicated from the mind and when they conceal themselves in the folds of memory, camouflaging themselves as the collective or individual unconscious.
Every rereading of a classic is as much a voyage of discovery as the first reading.
Every reading of a classic is in fact a rereading.
A classic is a book that has never finished saying what it has to say.
The classics are the books that come down to us bearing the traces of readings previous to ours, and bringing in their wake the traces they themselves have left on the culture or cultures they have passed through (or, more simply, on language and customs).
A classic does not necessarily teach us anything we did not know before. In a classic we sometimes discover something we have always known (or thought we knew), but without knowing that this author said it first, or at least is associated with it in a special way. And this, too, is a surprise that gives much pleasure, such as we always gain from the discovery of an origin, a relationship, an affinity.
The classics are books which, upon reading, we find even fresher, more unexpected, and more marvelous than we had thought from hearing about them.
We use the word "classic" of a book that takes the form of an equivalent to the universe, on a level with the ancient talismans. With this definition we are approaching the idea of the "total book," as Mallarmé conceived of it.
Your classic author is the one you cannot feel indifferent to, who helps you to define yourself in relation to him, even in dispute with him.
A classic is a book that comes before other classics; but anyone who has read the others first, and then reads this one, instantly recognizes its place in the family tree.
A classic is something that tends to relegate the concerns of the moment to the status of background noise, but at the same time this background noise is something we cannot do without.
A classic is something that persists as a background noise even when the most incompatible momentary concerns are in control of the situation.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
