Tuesday, March 3, 2009
reluctance
reluctance
1641, "act of struggling against," from obsolete verb reluct "to struggle or rebel against" (1526), from L. reluctari "to struggle against," from re- "against" + luctari "to struggle." Meaning "unwillingness" is first attested 1667. Reluctant "unwilling" is recorded from 1706.
what is now a simple unwillingness or hesitancy was once an overt act of rebellion... how we've tampened down the insurgencies, and transformed them to a mere distanced "nonparticipation." the struggles have all turned within, and churned so far beneath the surface that their only trace is halting speech and motion. an impotent impasse is reluctance.
1641, "act of struggling against," from obsolete verb reluct "to struggle or rebel against" (1526), from L. reluctari "to struggle against," from re- "against" + luctari "to struggle." Meaning "unwillingness" is first attested 1667. Reluctant "unwilling" is recorded from 1706.
what is now a simple unwillingness or hesitancy was once an overt act of rebellion... how we've tampened down the insurgencies, and transformed them to a mere distanced "nonparticipation." the struggles have all turned within, and churned so far beneath the surface that their only trace is halting speech and motion. an impotent impasse is reluctance.
Monday, March 2, 2009
strange: he recalled that, at a certain point, all alzheimer's patients degenerate to the "homeless" stage, the stage at which the afflicted individual would stubbornly proclaim that s/he needed to "go home," even when they WERE home. it was as though they no longer realized where home was. or, to put a twist to it, that they realized that home, in its truest sense, did not exist: never had, never would.
when put this way, he felt, in his mid 30's, a strange affinity with all alzheimer's patients.
when put this way, he felt, in his mid 30's, a strange affinity with all alzheimer's patients.
he arrived at 8:30. death had already been proclaimed at 8:20, by his older brother. still, as a matter of practice, or perhaps an offshoot of some morbid curiosity, he placed his fingers lightly upon the wrist of the deceased, to discern the radial pulse. a surprise, first of all, to feel the warmth of the body; how it was dead, and yet, it still held that most distinctive mantle of the living, heat. a surprise, next, to feel, with deep pressure, a pulse: no, it was not distinct enough to be considered a "living pulse," nor did it have the consistency of a heart behind it; but it was palpable nonetheless, a ripple-echo, like something left over and unsettled, long after the stone that was cast had sunk to the bottom of the sea...
he closed his eyes, nodded to his brother. with a strange giddiness, he agreed: his grandfather was dead.
he closed his eyes, nodded to his brother. with a strange giddiness, he agreed: his grandfather was dead.
neglect, negligee
negligee
1756, "a kind of loose gown worn by women," from Fr. négligée, from fem. pp. of négliger "to neglect," from L. neglegere (see neglect). So called in comparison to the elaborate costume of a fully dressed woman of the period. Borrowed again, 1835; the modern sense "semi-transparent, flimsy, lacy dressing gown" is yet another revival, first recorded 1930.
neglect (v.)
1529, from L. neglectus, pp. of neglegere "to make light of, disregard," lit. "not to pick up," variant of neclegere, from Old L. nec "not" (see deny) + legere "pick up, select" (see lecture). The noun is first attested 1588.
***
to be in the practice of neglecting one's life (if such a thing could be called a "practice") results in one becoming a figurative "negligee": a "semi-transparent, flimsy" thing that reveals all of your nude and embarrassing parts to your glazed eyes, and, perhaps, reveals them to the world as well... we only appreciate the solidity (and perhaps the shallow surfaces) of the world that we actively care for; and we only see through that world (into a kind of ruined ghost world) when we cease to attend to its beck and call... there are thus two worlds: one of attention and one of neglect. they interpenetrate, and depend upon (or don't?) the cares of the observer.
the tree that falls in the forest, with no one to hear, is thus NEGLECTED.
1756, "a kind of loose gown worn by women," from Fr. négligée, from fem. pp. of négliger "to neglect," from L. neglegere (see neglect). So called in comparison to the elaborate costume of a fully dressed woman of the period. Borrowed again, 1835; the modern sense "semi-transparent, flimsy, lacy dressing gown" is yet another revival, first recorded 1930.
neglect (v.)
1529, from L. neglectus, pp. of neglegere "to make light of, disregard," lit. "not to pick up," variant of neclegere, from Old L. nec "not" (see deny) + legere "pick up, select" (see lecture). The noun is first attested 1588.
***
to be in the practice of neglecting one's life (if such a thing could be called a "practice") results in one becoming a figurative "negligee": a "semi-transparent, flimsy" thing that reveals all of your nude and embarrassing parts to your glazed eyes, and, perhaps, reveals them to the world as well... we only appreciate the solidity (and perhaps the shallow surfaces) of the world that we actively care for; and we only see through that world (into a kind of ruined ghost world) when we cease to attend to its beck and call... there are thus two worlds: one of attention and one of neglect. they interpenetrate, and depend upon (or don't?) the cares of the observer.
the tree that falls in the forest, with no one to hear, is thus NEGLECTED.
unmade
you never appreciate the gravity
of your situation
unless you float-
or fall-
the way the world wants to
keep you all your own-
the way the sinews tightly
fold themselves around the bone-
you never delight in this, your solidity
with your pretended independent fluidity
the linking chains of thoughts and acts-
how long you never face the facts
that those self-same chains are
winding round your feet?
we are always already bound
bound up in this flesh and in this fold
and this prison our only liberation.
and in pause between intended motion
feel the free fall floating ocean-
what you are and what you can never do:
the unmade true that's undeniably you.
of your situation
unless you float-
or fall-
the way the world wants to
keep you all your own-
the way the sinews tightly
fold themselves around the bone-
you never delight in this, your solidity
with your pretended independent fluidity
the linking chains of thoughts and acts-
how long you never face the facts
that those self-same chains are
winding round your feet?
we are always already bound
bound up in this flesh and in this fold
and this prison our only liberation.
and in pause between intended motion
feel the free fall floating ocean-
what you are and what you can never do:
the unmade true that's undeniably you.
march funk
as usual at this time of year, i start feeling pretty blah... depressed. there isn't really a specific reason. i'm not happy about turning a year older, but then again, i don't feel particularly sad/afraid about it either. nevertheless, whenever my birthday comes around, i've come to expect a certain weariness/emptiness.
***
i had a thought about tides, the in and out of everything, and how, with a large enough perspective, everything balances out. with respect to people who are quiet or silent, not because they are insensitive or shallow, but because they have taken the world in too much, there is also a balance. so i thought: a quiet person can either save the world or destroy it, depending upon how s/he "outs" the potentials that have collected within. and the day when a person "outs" is inevitable. people are not like pits or abysses, no matter how they would like to pretend that they are (for that matter, the world is not a "landfill" either; we are currently facing the consequences of the world we have thrown away); people are more like high compression springs. we can take a lot of pressure, but at a certain point, something has to give, something has to release. it all depends upon how a person releases the collected flood that determines whether s/he will be of benefit or ruin to those around.
***
***
i had a thought about tides, the in and out of everything, and how, with a large enough perspective, everything balances out. with respect to people who are quiet or silent, not because they are insensitive or shallow, but because they have taken the world in too much, there is also a balance. so i thought: a quiet person can either save the world or destroy it, depending upon how s/he "outs" the potentials that have collected within. and the day when a person "outs" is inevitable. people are not like pits or abysses, no matter how they would like to pretend that they are (for that matter, the world is not a "landfill" either; we are currently facing the consequences of the world we have thrown away); people are more like high compression springs. we can take a lot of pressure, but at a certain point, something has to give, something has to release. it all depends upon how a person releases the collected flood that determines whether s/he will be of benefit or ruin to those around.
***
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