I'm having a time out until I can learn some manners.
It's been a rough week where I am for sure, I am completely down with the moment of silence concept right about now.
It's kind of a graceless aside, but sometimes I wonder if floodwaters are just mad because their chemical name looks so much like, well, you know, h 2 tha izzo, that bad word there kind of thing, wuzzat there, "HO".
I've spent the bulk of the last week reading about the "Western Interior Seaway" for a Nature Center project I've been working on. This one line, from the naturalist Henry Fabre, hanging on my desk.
"The Natural state of the world? Oceans. Continents are just interruptions in the course of the waters."
Howdy, neighbours! Enjoyed the interlude - it occupied my brainmeats just as well as a normal episode. Carlos Ezquerra would be a lot more hunched, but he had his spine replaced with a molten rod of pure THRILL POWER!
Has it already been twelve? The first four or so were a bit slow, but we've now hit a point where this is a part of my week. Check Freakangels on Friday.
Will this essay get collected, or is this an internet special? And can we expect interludes every dozen or so episodes?
I'm having a time out until I can learn some manners.
<blockquote>take this thread to spin out some idle speculation and maybe say hello to your neighbors.</blockquote>Hey neighbors. You guys are brilliant, you know that right?
Here's some speculation I stumbled on recently:<blockquote>"She told me about a group of people in Guinea who carry the sky on their heads. They are the people of Creation. Strong, tall, and mighty people who can bear anything. Their Maker, she said, gives them the sky to carry because they are strong. These people do not know who they are, but if you see a lot of trouble in your life, it is because you were chosen to carry part of the sky on your head."</blockquote>From <i>Breath, Eyes, Memory</i> by Edwidge Danticat
I'm having a time out until I can learn some manners.
Just trying to visualize the survivor's guilt concept a little bit. Jeanette Winterson wrote that book <i>Weight</i> which is a retelling of the Atlas myth, about the Titan who has to hold up the sky. Pretty much no one wants that job. It seems fitting though to a certain extent when reading about the Freakangels coping with having dropped death out of the sky on the whole world.
You know these guys in Guinea, what if they found out somehow that they're carrying part of the sky on their heads? What if it (excuse me here) <i>dawned</i> on them what that implied about all their little quirks and habits and personal dramas when the actual sky is riding on their well-being?
I mean, what do you do? Where is the government office where you get benefit checks for being a weather god?
If such people exist, do you think they read Freakangels? They'd probably like it don't you think? Anyway, I think about this all the time, it seems like forever <a target="_blank" href="http://www.readprint.com/work-1222/Herman-Melville">people</a> have been wondering about it.
Was Herman Melville a Freakangel? Or Virginia Woolf?<blockquote>As a cloud crosses the sun, silence falls on London; and falls on the mind. Effort ceases. Time flaps on the mast. There we stop; there we stand. Rigid, the skeleton of habit alone upholds the human frame.</blockquote>-from <i>Mrs. Dalloway</i>
How many leap off bridges? How many Freakangels left society and became monks?<blockquote>I climb the road to Cold Mountain, The road to Cold Mountain that never ends. The valleys are long and strewn with stones; The streams broad and banked with thick grass. Moss is slippery, though no rain has fallen; Pines sigh, but it isn’t the wind. Who can break from the snares of the world And sit with me among the white clouds?
- Han-shan</blockquote><blockquote>Every day priests minutely examine the Dharma and endlessly chant complicated sutras. They should learn how to read the love letters sent by the wind and rain, the snow and moon.
- Ikkyu (1394-1491)</blockquote> I was so excited when my ex's favorite band reunited because I knew she'd buy the album and see my name all the time.
Even the interlude is well paced, excellent. As I read it I could picture you sitting in the garden, birds singing, the remnants of a rain shower making the greenery glisten, a cigarette in hand, looking contemplative. Having grown up on the North West coast flooding was never in my mind. Instead we had the steady retreat of the sea, the beach stretching further every year it seemed to me, like a desert being revealed. With the East coast crumbling into the sea I always thought our island must be on the move, picking up Ireland along the way. Maybe we'll just end up as a small group of islands instead.
Aw, I was especially looking forward to my dose of waterily-fucked up London this week - dammit man, I'll just have to do something else to get the spectre of General BoJo, Predatory Vegetable Unintelligence squatting like a giant malevolent blond mop over Westminster, out of my poor little addled head.
I read the Midwich Cuckoos when I was quite young and it disturbed the hell out of me, so much so that I've never read it since, seem to recall an Arthur C Clarke novel in a similar vein - Childhood's End? Again that scared me a lot, maybe it's the thought of being one of the old people, a throwback, evolutionarily obsolete?
liquidcow -- In this case I see that as almost a design element rather than something that's necessarily there to teach the uninformed. I believe the title page was designed to set the stage and lead the reader smoothly into Warren's text.