February 15, 2010
Another day of desperate Olympia. The streets are swarmed. I am amazed at the volume of people. Fireworks are riping through the sky like machine gun fire, everything, even fireworks, have a military auditory tone. They are lighting up red in the window opposite me, but I have no idea where they are coming from. Who knows maybe they are for Chinese New Year, which is overshadowed by Olympic siege.
February 14, 2010
The juggernaut has rolled us out-of-the-way.
I’m nearly so used to the sound of helicopters, it will be most odd when they depart.
The weather has been superb. Putting up the most appropriate protest by pissing down on the entire five ring bling shenanigans. It enamours me even more to the weather, if that were conceivable. Enforced optimism cannot push its way into the clouds. Praise be for that.
The sirens are wailing as I type this, undoubtably delivering some dignitary up to a late night snack.
February 9, 2010
If I examine the years of the essays of Queneau’s that tickle me there is, unfortunately, no mathematical rhythm to them. Darnit. 1937 and 1949 for starters.
The only other distiction is the ones I like are a bit more vague in their subject matter. Just as this post is vague in its disclosure.
February 5, 2010
contradiction
Today close to Main Street in Vancouver I noticed an obese white SUV 2010 Olympics car parked on one side of the road while opposite a wide and long line of people queueing for the food bank curled right around the community centre and down the alley.
One cancelling out the other.
The line moved eventually while the car did not.
The line had spirit, the car did not.
You cannot take a bite out of a car, but it can take a bite out of you. Curious that.
February 5, 2010
Today I need to be fired out of a canon like Hunter. If I begin to balloolalaloola on the Olympic siege and all that I witnessed today that had me cross-eyed with the scale of this lugh-nacy I would have to enter the canon. It is not easy to find a canon in the street I live on. Just like it’s not so easy to find a post box these days.
Instead I turn my attenton to sharing that I read Raymond Queneau’s essay The Technique of the novel today and I read it as I passed through some of the lugh-nacy. I like his circular, pause, calculations, removal from those calculations and how he sets up rhythm within them. (“Removed the scaffolding and syncopated the rhythm”).
So much is currently being imposed on us here in Vancouver that we must hope somehow to figure out a way to remain intact within all that has been calculated on our behalfs. I am tired of being “instructed”. Our public spaces have been invaded. I’ve yet to witness anything that relates to sports whatsoever. (Indeed my weekly gymnastics training is actually closed for a month! ) The thrust seems to be a non stop proclamation to the world on security. An advertorial. Today I watched a man be told he could not rummage in a bin. “Not here, you can’t do that here.” A young buck of a guard told him.
Remove the scaffolding and syncopate the rhythm.
February 1, 2010
Natter
Great talk On the Ends of Sleep: Shadows in the Glare of a 24/7 World by Art Historian Jonathan Crary at UBC on Friday about the erosion of sleep, sort of.
What was remarkable about his talk was its solidity and thus when it came to questions he stuck to it and did not waver to pick up and lace it into every ping-ponged idea diverted at him. When you listen to someone who has thought things through, inevitably many in the room become fired up with 5 new or related ideas each and the urge to postulate them up to the fluorescent tubes is hard to resist.
They’re all valid ideas, but they’re not cured so rapidly and given time they may be interesting in their own right, rather than ping ponged back at what emerged. A less solid thinker would extend and try to pick up every dropped thread and bring them onto his needle.
Not Monsieur Crary. I liked that, or maybe I liked that he made a great deal of sense and he didn’t decorate up his language in academic terms to prove he knows things. Intelligent, articulate folk don’t need to constantly prove they know things because they have a relaxed, inclusive confidence. In contrast spouters tend to announce themselves every five words, are tedious on the ears and love giving grandiose titles to the most rudimentary information.
For my biteen of ping-pong. A few things struck me during his talk on sleep (sort of) I say sort of because as he said himself he’s interested in the limits of human nature. (correct me if I am wrong ?)
Crary (who primarily talked about events since 2001) cited the example of sleep deprivation as/and torture in extraordinary rendition.
I was reminded
1. Margaret Thatcher survived on four hours of sleep. Amongst results of her handiwork: the Hungerstrikers in the Maze Prison, internment in the North and the destruction of the mines, the unions, privatisation of the railways etc in England ..the list goes on.
2. The low tech crude nature of available drugs to put people to sleep versus keeping them awake, which are much more effective.
3. Michael Jackson, one of the richest men in the world, died trying to fall asleep. He could have had anything and the thing he needed most was (maybe) sleep.
4. I cannot fall asleep these days unless I have the lights on. Historically I had a strange habit of listening to the radio all night long.
At the end of the talk a man told me a story of a dream he had about flying that potentially had put paid to any further Superman dreams I may have. That night I dreamt about insomnia and experienced it live intermittantly.