Bloglet, the gentleman's mock turtle soup -- Moss made it sweeter than myrrh ash and dhoup
Carlos's One Night Stand.
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(3)
12:38:21 PM,Tuesday 2 April 2002
I like countertenors 'cause they're beautiful, but I like mezzos 'cause they're sexy. I imagine I'd like castrati, 'cause by all accounts they're freaking amazing, but... I'm almost glad they went extinct and left all their kickass roles behind.
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(7)
05:22:10 AM,Tuesday 2 April 2002
I am blogging under duress.
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(1)
03:26:31 AM,Monday 1 April 2002
Sitting in computer lab.
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Participing in Johnny-talk interface "chat" module #01286.
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Annapolis adequate plus or minus several "glee" units.
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Three exclamation points requested.
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!!!
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Request fulfilled.
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Terminating transmission.
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(1)
03:12:25 AM,Sunday 31 March 2002
As far as I know, _Man of La Mancha_ is the only musical directly based on a Great Book (not counting the Bible, uh course). Why don't they do it at Johnnyland?
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(5)
06:07:45 AM,Saturday 30 March 2002
A vivid emotion of pleasure arising from a sense of well-being or satisfaction; the feeling or state of being highly pleased or delighted; exultation of spirit; gladness, delight.
The expression of glad feeling; outward rejoicing; mirth; jubilant festivity.
Used interjectionally, as an expression of joy.
A pleasurable state or condition; a state of happiness or felicity; esp. the perfect bliss or beatitude of heaven; hence, the place of bliss, paradise, heaven.
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(1)
05:34:10 AM,Saturday 30 March 2002
Well, it's half past midnight, my room ain't clean, the taxi comes at 4:30, and I haven't packed yet. But I sure been having fun!
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02:35:06 AM,Saturday 30 March 2002
Aaaah! You guys had a virtuoso recorder concert in the Great Hall and you didn't even tell me?! Did you make pirate tapes, at least?
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08:52:05 PM,Friday 29 March 2002
T.I.W.B.I.L.W.: Anne Arundel!
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08:44:58 PM,Friday 29 March 2002
Mosche di frutta senza cuoli!
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08:32:23 PM,Friday 29 March 2002
This is my kinda trash. I want it!
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(1)
02:51:46 PM,Friday 29 March 2002
Oh, I am an idle cuss.
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04:40:17 AM,Friday 29 March 2002
T.I.A.I.L.W.:Yiddish.
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(1)
04:33:09 AM,Friday 29 March 2002
I need to know about Wanderlust. I've heard the biological explanation -- adolescent animals are all seized with the instinct to roam, make whoopie with strange creatures, and return home, having sowed their seed far afield and averted the torments of inbreeding. Humans are animals, so they've got the same instinct, but how does it work in them? Lately I've wanted to go to the ends of the earth, never see a friendly face again, pick up my things and not put them down again for more than a few nights' sleep and exploration. It's not that the people who I love are repellent to me, but that, somehow, I want desperately not to be known and not to know anyone. I hardly ever use the phone or write email or seek out companionship -- somehow these blogs put just enough distance between me and the recipients not to make me feel squashed.
Classes are fine, too, because students and tutors are all talking with each other through the face of a text, and not demanding anything personal. I want to meet people on trains, take something from them, give something to them, and never see them again. I want to live by myself for years. I mean, at this point, it doesn't seem to have an end. That's why I'm wondering about the mechanism of it all. I've heard that this impulse dies down in middle age. I certainly never had it this strongly before. I want to see everything for myself; everything new. Will I get sick of it eventually? Will I get lonely for the first time? Or is this impulse actually a form of loneliness, but a tricky pleasure-giving one? I've heard people my age say that they're scared of dying alone. I'm not. I'm not scared of dying either alone or in company, but it seems like rather a nice thing to die alone; it wouldn't be so much trouble to everyone. I wouldn't mind being one of the elders sent off on an ice floe, or an elephant who walks to his own graveyard.
What I'm scared of is being plunked down and forced to take only a moderate dose of happiness every morning. I'm scared I'll find a person and "make do", and neither of us will have many complaints... but we won't have much fierce joy either. I've got an invisible, imaginary companion in my head, and I've never met anyone who matched up closely enough with it. If I don't find one in the flesh, maybe I can't be satisfied. I haven't got much to offer, either; if I don't want to live in close confining brotherhood with all my worthy neighbors, the least I can do is avoid being a burden. Sometimes the city appeals to me more, because it has people, and I'm very interested in people. Sometimes purity and waste and nothingness appeals to me, because I like the idea of having limitless time, no distractions, no compulsions. I feel like being imprisoned, or exiled, or cloistered, or marooned is the only way I'll be able to get deep enough inside myself to find what I want.
The funny thing is that I've got another opposing impulse -- and always have -- that most people don't have. I'm never sick of the place I'm at, just like I'm never sick of the people I'm with. I can always say, "I'll stay here a little longer. It's lovely here." But for some reason I can't say, "I'd like to stay here forever," about any place I've ever been or can imagine. I want to be unbound, unbounded, not bound for anyplace. I remember a science fiction story I read about the survivors of a rocket explosion floating away in their spacesuits far into space. They talked with each other on their radios for a while, and then they got out of range, and they just floated... Now, that seems nice.
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(2)
02:43:00 AM,Thursday 28 March 2002
(It's not the search engine's fault.)
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02:20:58 AM,Thursday 28 March 2002
Watching Leonard Bernstein's children's concerts with my left eye and the sunset with the other. !
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08:26:05 PM,Wednesday 27 March 2002
"This piece wasn't written by Johann Pachelbel. It was written by the Marquis de Sade."
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06:55:13 PM,Wednesday 27 March 2002
Do you think I should take a three-hour bath and then go swimming?
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(9)
06:02:56 PM,Wednesday 27 March 2002
Whoah! Remember the Disney cartoon version of Robin Hood? The "Phony King of England" song? That's actually to the tune of a glorious bawdy version possibly by Rudyard Kipling called "God Bless the Bastard King of England." Why didn't I know this? And did it cause a scandal?
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(4)
04:42:48 PM,Wednesday 27 March 2002
"Wherefore" used to mean "why". And now, "What for" means why. How did this happen? "What for" at least makes sense. "Wherefore" doesn't, as far as I can tell, but maybe I'm not thinking about it right.
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(2)
02:48:02 PM,Wednesday 27 March 2002
