Does our host care to comment on why, probably for the first time in the life of this blog and that of its ancestors, the blond in the window enters the catalogue with a 3rd letter from the Roman alphabet in sequence with the numerals? If this reflects merely the exhaustion of permutations available within previous limits, I shouldn't wonder, so prodigious has been the invention here (at two digits of 10 options per slot and two letters at 26 - or is it 24? - would you run that out for us, Lucien?).
If, however, as the immediate resumption of the standard system suggests, this "extra" letter (all consonants) is something other than a convenient instrument for accelerating access to the data in this file by countless precious nanoseconds, I, for one, would be fascinated to know what that might be. Not to pry, naturally.
Because this blond signifies almost horrifyingly, that reality which moved Fitzgerald (whom we know you not to overpraise) to remark on that singular curiosity of the rich: they are simply fucking god damned different. Or, they used to be; and this boy seems wholly to place that human need for something mortally distinguishable quite squarely where it belongs, and fix that standard in the bargain.
Name me somebody who wouldn't take a middle fingertip and lightly trace his clavicle once, from throat to shoulder, and save himself a trip to the Medici tombs of Michelangelo, and I will listen to the denial that his 3 consonants mean a thing.
I do feel badly for Anon. We all saw "Good Will Hunting," we all know the agony of observing the dispatch of a theorem representing a conundrum for centuries: we seem to have to walk through fire to concede, without reluctance, the existence of the unexpected in the very body of the desired. That this boy strikes him as in that class is not worse than any other opinion he might state, but it does explain its wretched length. :)
Unless one says goodbye to what one loves, and unless one travels to completely new territories, one can expect merely a long wearing away of oneself. - Jean Dubuffet
. . . .
___________________
. . . Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.
-- His Holiness the Dalai Lama . . .
Contents of this blog are the viewpoints and choices of the blogger, and are not in any way related to the blogger's employer or its clients. Copyrights of images and other materials appearing on this site are the property of their respective owners, unless otherwise noted. If you are the copyright owner and wish to have an image removed, you can contact this blog.
Comments posted in the Comments area of this blog are not necessarily the opinion or viewpoint of the blogger.
The Slabber
_____________________
.
. .
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies; succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you; be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight; build anyway.
~ Mother Theresa
.
Click this pic for Special Content
Special Content
.
. A conservative is a man who is too cowardly to fight and too fat to run. -- Elbert Hubbard .
.
__________________
.
.My call for a spiritual revolution is thus not a call for a religious revolution. Nor is it a reference to a way of life that is somehow other-worldly, still less to something magical or mysterious. Rather, it is a call for a radical re-orientation away from our habitual preoccupation with self towards concern for the wider community of beings with whom we are connected, and for conduct which recognizes others' interests alongside our own.
- His Holiness the Dalai Lama
. .
Great men are they who see that the spiritual is stronger than any material force, that thoughts rule the world. -- Ralph Waldo Emerson
.
____________________
____________________
. . . Some people spend their entire lives reading but never get beyond reading the words on the page, they don't understand that the words are merely stepping stones placed across a fast-flowing river, and the reason they're there is so that we can reach the farther shore, it's the other side that matters. -- José de Sousa Saramago
. . .
____________________
_______________________
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. -- William Shakespeare
____________________
Fighting Against Neglect
. .
Our problems, both those we experience externally such as wars, crime and violence and those we experience internally as emotional and psychological suffering will not be solved until we address this underlying neglect of our inner dimension. That is why the great movements of the last hundred years and more--democracy, liberalism, socialism, and Communism--have all failed to deliver the universal benefits they were supposed to provide, despite many wonderful ideas. A revolution is called for, certainly, but not a political, an economic, or a technical revolution. We have had enough experience of these during the past century to know that a purely external approach will not suffice. What I propose is a spiritual revolution.
In a dying civilization, political prestige is the reward not of the shrewdest diagnostician but of the man with the best bedside manner. It is the decoration conferred on mediocrity by ignorance.
Does our host care to comment on why, probably for the first time in the life of this blog and that of its ancestors, the blond in the window enters the catalogue with a 3rd letter from the Roman alphabet in sequence with the numerals? If this reflects merely the exhaustion of permutations available within previous limits, I shouldn't wonder, so prodigious has been the invention here (at two digits of 10 options per slot and two letters at 26 - or is it 24? - would you run that out for us, Lucien?).
ReplyDeleteIf, however, as the immediate resumption of the standard system suggests, this "extra" letter (all consonants) is something other than a convenient instrument for accelerating access to the data in this file by countless precious nanoseconds, I, for one, would be fascinated to know what that might be. Not to pry, naturally.
Because this blond signifies almost horrifyingly, that reality which moved Fitzgerald (whom we know you not to overpraise) to remark on that singular curiosity of the rich: they are simply fucking god damned different. Or, they used to be; and this boy seems wholly to place that human need for something mortally distinguishable quite squarely where it belongs, and fix that standard in the bargain.
Name me somebody who wouldn't take a middle fingertip and lightly trace his clavicle once, from throat to shoulder, and save himself a trip to the Medici tombs of Michelangelo, and I will listen to the denial that his 3 consonants mean a thing.
It was just a fluke.
ReplyDelete;-)
Well, one good fluke deserves another, as any Melvillian will tell you, and here they both slap the surface of coincidence with emphatic play.
ReplyDeleteI do feel badly for Anon. We all saw "Good Will Hunting," we all know the agony of observing the dispatch of a theorem representing a conundrum for centuries: we seem to have to walk through fire to concede, without reluctance, the existence of the unexpected in the very body of the desired. That this boy strikes him as in that class is not worse than any other opinion he might state, but it does explain its wretched length. :)
ReplyDeleteAh, yes, length. One wonders.
ReplyDelete;-)