I left the office early today, last night was a bad
night of itching and dive bombing mosquitoes and I washed my fitted sheet for
the first time, gulp, and it dried on the line in under an hour and I still
couldn’t get in a good nap. Can we call
it a night by nine tonight?
I watched this Sanjay Gupta’s special on cannabis and
damn, if only I were sick, Mildred. I
have occasional dementia; I’ll take a gram of Shiva kicks butt, please. Of course living in the special states I wouldn’t
have to feign an illness but would I be able to work. If this nutty spirit really wanted to return
to earth he'd be more than welcome to take me to one of these states and we could go to work. Doing what?
Ya know you wanted to get published but you’ve never
come up with an academic topic worthy of any effort and except for your dreamy
eyed new new testament, of which you keep saying you need the bricks and mortar
environment, there is in your midst the connections to get at least an introduction
seen by someone, perhaps even a publication in a journal no one has ever heard
of. Ok.
Toccata and Fugue in D minor is still a kick butt organ
grinder. It’s a great road song, it’s a
great shake it up song, did its contemporary teenagers dance to this? How?
Probably not. They could have let
the spirit unleash them into other sources of ecstasy like painting, of course
back then the only place to hear it was in concert so afterwards they hummed it
while chopping wood, or boxing the ears of the village bully, or they hummed it
while making love under the bridge or between the rows of corn, the
choreography of life for any part of the nine minute plus call to faith is
accessible. Ending the inevitably unfortunate
relationship at 7:47, or making that
crucial decision and jumping out of the tower and landing in a soft cushy field
of sunflowers and running away with the blonde who lived behind the fishmonger
two miles away at 8:45…ahh, Bach.
Today and for the next two days we switched classes after
the break, to give other students a chance to perhaps learn something different
from another teacher. The student in
front of me showed me a mock listening exam exercise and I wished I had kept it
because all day I’m wondering if this is too similar to the listening part of
the exam. Similar is ok, too too similar
is what is bothering me and I hate myself for role playing what may never be
true. It has to be mentally and
physically damaging to imagine the worst and what is the worst? Banishment of this teacher for cheating!
Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1: prelude will always to me be
remembered in the movie Master and Commander, the doctor happily exploring the
Galapagos Islands. Is that good? To remember a 400 year old piece of music
with a movie? Sure, why not? Unfortunately it’s short.
The Brandenburg Concerto No 5: I Allegro, were there
bikes back then? This is a bike song,
rolling through the country side, waiving to the farmers and the little kids,
too fast for them throwing sods of cow dung in jealousy, a feel good piece, a contemplative moment is
had on a bike, consider the lilies of the field, consider becoming a child
again, running away from the responsibilities and the unfortunate. What a mess it is to be a migrant. Has it ever been this bad in human
history? Maybe, though there weren’t as
many people three hundred years ago, and during world war one did people flee
or did they just remain in place and get plowed under? During the black plague no one was fleeing,
right? And how many migrants died trying
to reach the new world? Millions made it
and most were welcomed though the Catholics had it rough, they had to keep
moving and there was plenty of land for them to settle down on and populate like rabbits.
Bach would be good music to greet us in the next
world. It is other worldly.
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