Tuesday

[monk222]

The weather actually got worse, or rainier. Stormy this afternoon with ka-booming thunder. Our power even went out. I thought we would be tapering off. Pi said, "It's almost four. It was not the fault of the power-outage that you were so quiet today." I know, I, uh, I was just content to read my "Sisyphus" this morning. Pi said, "Excuses, excuses. But does this mean you have a new favorite book?" Oh, no. I mean, I got some quotes, and I am glad that I am reading it, but ... this is not going to be a rereadable. In fact, I was wondering how Camus got the Nobel Prize for it, but then I realized that he probably got it on account of his role in the French resistance as much as for the book itself. He just comes across as such a puppy-doggy undergraduate trying to come off smarter and more learned than he really is. Daimon says, "Yeah, but he is kind of like you in having this idea in his head that knowing 'Hamlet' places him among the true intellectual elite." That did make me feel a little self-conscious and embarrassed, but nobody gives me a Nobel Prize for such posing either ... ... Donald has toned down his anti-immigrant talk with his new policy proposal for "extreme vetting", as opposed to outright bans and possible deportations. He is in some trouble in the general election. Thank god! He is trying to adjust. He now realizes that the general election is a contest played on a different field than that played for the Republican nomination ... ... Pi says, "No survey questions today?" Maybe not. It is kind of late, after ten. I got into playing my own games of chess today. I practically forgot that I have the Chess King program. It's easy to get absorbed in that. Pi says, "But aren't games just time-killers? You miss out on a chance to explore and maybe discover something about yourself." Yeah, but I'm not only interested in chess as a game. I kind of like its culture and history. I don't think it's the same as playing solitaire, for instance. I am building something. It may be very slow-going, but I am building something. I like the chess world and making it mine. Moreover, it's not like I'll be doing this everyday. It's nice to have a little menu of things to do, to vary the routine a little and help to keep things fresh ... ... Oh, hell, it's too late to play another game of chess, and, in truth, I've had enough for one day. Let's do a survey question. Pi says, "This is a good one: Where did your last kiss take place and with whom?" Daimon says, "And pets don't count!" Damn, then I guess that wipes me out: nada! Daimon says, "Now, now, teenage girls count, even if they do make good pets. There's no statute of limitation on this question." Man, how long ago was that? It was before we got on the Internet, that's for sure, but not much before, half a year, a year, something like that. Somebody having troubles at home and needing a place to stay for a while. Daimon says, "And you ready to play the good Samaritan." Well, Christian duty bids me: to feed the hungry, house the homeless -- Daimon says, "And, if memory serves, to clothe the naked, not to strip a girl naked." Well, I get confused, so many rules, so many sins. But that was it!, the only time fortune smiled on me. They say that every dog has his day, and I guess that was mine. Pi says, "How about if we move on to another question: Did you get into trouble a lot at school?" Oh, lord! Funny as it seems, with me being so quiet and passive and intimidated, I probably got into more than my fair share of trouble. But it's kind of hard to condense all the embarrassments of 18, 19 years of schooling. I am tempted to say that it didn't mar me, because the educators and administrators understood that I was a fairly bright boy, but that depends on what actually happened in my last year at Douglas High. I'm not sure that they didn't hit me hard in underhanded ways, in ways that might have even kept me from getting a ticket to the Ivy League, albeit as a minority for affirmative action. But that could just be paranoid thinking. Pi says, "Um, can we get a little more specificity here?" I don't think so. It would take a novel, and Dostoevsky would probably need to write it. Maybe we can try it some other day. It's not going to happen tonight.