I

can't help remembering the William Blake quote: If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise.

It spins around my head a bit, even though I'm not so interested in wisdow. And just because he said it, it might mean nothing, or mean something while being plain wrong. But still it spins around my head. Does it imply that we should seek folly? That prudence and good judgement are somehow not adviseable. That many of our good decisions are bad decisions?

So it means none of this. Barely suggests any of it. But something drives these skewed interpretations.

Suddenly last

supper, was the title of a lesson in an advanced ESL book for Japanese learners of English, who pretty much already speak the language. This lesson was the true story about a group of people who were evicted from an apartment. On their last night there they had an eviction dinner party, and left the apartment for the last time towards the end of the party, with the party still going on.

Some guy I told all this to mentioned that the name "Suddenly last supper" was a nod to the title of a movie "Suddenly last summer". But there also seem to be other "Suddenly last supper" things out there.

Time to clear out

the pickled head grime.

We called it

space based aqua pop. It was music from outer space, only underwater. Listening to it freed you, loosened connections, opened possibility. Soon to be a necessity for creative ventures.

And the rest of the time its the baroque certainty of Bach.

Some guy

at a party once told me that "Einstein on the Beach" by Phillip Glass was music from 50 years from now. This guy was somehow involved in the music industry, as a composer of movie music, or something like that. I went out and bought the CD, and haven't been able to listen to it at all, though some other music by Phillip Glass I like.

But the idea was the interesting part, the music of the future. Right now I've been listening endlessly to "Silent Shout" by The Knife, and half felt that it was from the future. As I listened to it the phrase music from the sterile world came to me, not as if it were music from a world where everyone was sterile, but from music from a place that is very modern, but also very under-populated.

The vast

underground corridoors lie ahead. I know that there is a stairwell going a level further down, and there await special treats. I find it and go down.

This skeletal outline describes a dream, partially recurring, from when I was a child. It doesn't recurr as a dream anymore. But it does in memory, and it sort of even does in airports, because some have hired commerical artists to create these strange tunnels with odd lights and sounds to connect various terminals.

And for another time (or have I mentioned it already?): The Terminal Terminal.

There is the split

between those who say that the actor is ultimately responsible for his deeds, and those who say he is not, because other factors matter and they matter more.

I can't seem to get as much work done as I'd like. There are no background factors. I see my limits. And yet, perhaps I shall change them.

"Has all

the blood been drained out of me? " thought the kelp as it saw its reflection in the pool. "Why, I'm only green, now."

It's time

to go to Moss Farms, and see how the moss is growing and how far it has spread -- seems to be out further now.

"Once," says the old farmer indicating the vast moss field, "these rocks were bare. But now you can't even see them for the moss." I'd never even known it was rocks under the moss. Hadn't really thought about that. He continues, "They said it wouldn't work, but it has, it has..." He's done talking for the day. Now its time to just stare out at the moss.

Muhshroom belts, moss fields, dingy canals? What is it that I'm asking for?

One wall

of my office is entirely cork. Why did the builders stop there? Why not four cork walls? ...then I could have giant tacks to pin my books to the walls.

Do you think

that "Satanic Impulse" would be a good name for a brand of coffee?

There is

an inconsequential canal running through your city. The canal is narrow, but spacious enough for a small boat, and there is a walking path next to it. Very rarely you pass by it and you hardly notice it. Or if you do notice then it strikes you with a moment's oddness, and you wonder why you never noticed it before, but you wonder this (or overlook it) every time that you see it.

On the back of "Upwingers"

a book by one Esfandiary, it says:

"I am Universal. I translive all over the planet. Learn via Unicom. Have many professions. Am involved with many people. Consider all children as mine also. Neither Right nor Left - I am Up."

This (the bold) reminds us of a song. Which one?

A day of borrowing...

because I am not the painter of this, its "Sinbad the Sailor" by Paul Klee.

On re-looking at stuff by Klee lately I haven't liked much, but this one I still do.

Mystery

First, this picture was not taken by me, but stolen from the vast reaches of the web.
Second, it's awesome.
Third,...

The past

has become unscrewed from the present.

Today's

question was: What is the single most important thing you can know about another person?

And I haven't a clue anymore. Somehow this question might have seemed important to me a few years ago (how many I'm not sure) but now it just feels faded, irrelevant, stale. Maybe new people just don't matter all that much anymore, and the people I already know, well I already know them. Or maybe new people matter plenty but not for any predictable reason or in any single way. Or maybe its just that I'm not 17 or 23 anymore, and haven't been for some time.

You might just keep going

till one day you think, "I'm playing a losing game". And then its time to change ways.

Discrimination

is the basis of taste.

Not so much

movement. This is not a voyage on a boat. This is not trip of the bicycle, nor a long hike. It is sitting at the desk. Sitting, sitting, sitting. And now for a song:

Six little ducks that I once knew
Fat ones, skinny ones, fair ones, too
But the one little duck with the feather on his back
He led the others with a quack, quack, quack
Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack
He led the others with a quack, quack, quack
Down to the river they would go
Wibble, wobble, wibble, wobble, to and fro
But the one little duck with the feather on his back
He led the others with a quack, quack, quack
Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack
He led the others with a quack, quack, quack
Back from the river they would come
Wibble, wobble, wibble, wobble, ho, hum, hum
But the one little duck with the feather on his back
He led the others with a quack, quack, quack
Quack, quack, quack, quack, quack, quack
He led the others with a quack, quack, quack.

For a more sophisticated version:

Six little ducks that I once knew
Sad ones, happy ones, some like you
But the one little duck with the feathers on his back
Waddled to his mama with a quack, quack, quack

Quack, quack, quack. Quack, quack, quack
Waddled to his mama with a quack, quack, quack

Five little ducks that I once knew
Silly ones, funny ones, some like you
But the one little duck with the feathers on his back
Waddled to the shore with a quack, quack, quack
Quack, quack, quack. Quack, quack, quack
Waddled to the shore with a quack, quack, quack

Four little ducks that I once knew
Jolly ones, bright ones, some like you
But the one little duck with the feathers on his back
Waddled through the water with a quack, quack, quack
Quack, quack, quack. Quack, quack, quack
Waddled through the water with a quack, quack, quack

Three little ducks that I once knew
Old ones, young ones, some like you
But the one little duck with the feathers on his back
Waddled up a hill with a quack, quack, quack
Quack, quack, quack. Quack, quack, quack
Waddled up a hill with a quack, quack, quack

Two little ducks that once knew
Play together, just like you
But the one little duck with the feathers on his back
Waddled by a frog with a quack, quack, quack
Quack, quack, quack. Quack, quack, quack
Waddled by a frog with a quack, quack, quack

One little duck that I once knew
A happy little duck. the same as you
This one little duck with the feathers on his back
Waddled to his family with a quack, quack. quack
Quack, quack, quack. Quack, quack, quack
Waddled to his family with a quack, quack, quack