Jan. 1st, 2017

Sunday

Jan. 1st, 2017 03:53 pm
monk222: (Default)
After not getting to bed late, at around one, thanks to the fireworks, I was not open to playing nocturnal games with the cats. Sammy would come in and just whine about the house, perhaps looking for Ash, not knowing that she was outside somewhere, perhaps hiding from the dwindling pops of fireworks. I grabbed Sammy and literally tossed him out on the patio, and then I shut the blinds, so that I won't be subject to guilt-inducing sites of the cats at the door. They can wait a few hours to eat. I, on the other hand, must have my sleep when I can get it. It's not as though the night was wintry cold or stormy. ... ... Thomas Mann, talking about his tetralogy and his appreciation for Goethe: "This novel is a Joseph game. The imitation of God in which Rachel's son indulges corresponds to my imitatio of Goethe: an identification and unio mystica [mystical union] with the Father." [Cambridge Companion to Thomas Mann] ... ... Pop is on the phone with Victor, talking about how he is about to give up trying to keep up with his credit card payments. It's a little scary. I have never figured out how Pop has kept up our lifestyle, as relatively modest as it might be, for all these years, on top of playing Sugar Daddy for Kay and Lorie, and helping Jack over the years. I mean, has he been allowed to run through a hundred credit cards, always able to sign up for another one to pay for the old cards? However, Pop also laughs and seems to think it is all funny, like he might not be as serious as one might think, but that could just be old-age fatalism. ... ... People are still popping fireworks today and tonight. It is as though it has come back into fascination, whereas in previous years it was just something customary to do on a couple of nights a year, if only for old times' sake. ... ... Watching the dreamy movie "Waking Life", I catch the mention of Philip K. Dick's "Flow My Tears, the Policeman Said", which I never heard of before. I look it up and am interested. I especially love this review: "Written straight from Philip K. Dick's broken and wandering heart, this is one of the genre's best, and saddest, books. Instead of clanking heavy-metal robotics, quantum theory, or brave new worlds, Dick offers up our future peopled by fragile humans, all looking for love. It is impossible to read this book, and not feel Phil's heart breaking as he wrote every beautiful word." I have read only one of his books, but I keep coming across mentions like this over the years that lead me to think I should get to know this guy and his work much better.

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