Tuesday 30 June 2009

What Big Cat are You?

Find out here. (The questions were not what I expected).

I'm a lynx.

"You are a quiet observer of the world around you.
Your wisdom comes from listening carefully.
You've always been extra sensitive and aware.
And it's made it difficult for you to fit in.

You see past people's outward personas.
You are able to penetrate a stranger's soul.
What you've learned about people is both beautiful and ugly.
And you keep these secrets to yourself
"

Kind of true. Spooky.

Apparently, the lynx has some mythological status, being an elusive, ghost-like animal that sees without being seen, and is often called: the keeper of the secrets of the forest. Groovy.








Sunday 28 June 2009

Still in Hibernation

And still sleepy. And still craving high GI foods. I've found that the best way to combat this is to sleep a lot and eat high GI foods. Also, this weekend, I've had my monthly visit from my red friend (not a communist, more like a fascist), who requires lots of sloth and gluttony.

Under these circumstances I would usually make a trip to the video store for 10 weekly DVDs but I've got a larger than usual stack of books to read (some from the library), which I need to get through.

This is my reading stack:
(I'm an ADHD reader, so I'll read a few chapters of one book then switch to another book etc)

Fiction:
The Brothers Karamazov By Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Perdido Street Station by China Mieville
Children of the Alley by Naguib Mahfouz

Non-Fiction:
Uncertainty: Einstein, Heisenberg, Bohr and the struggle for the soul of Science by David Lindley
The Curies: A Biography of the most controversial family in Science by Denis Brian
Love, Life, Goethe: How to be happy in an imperfect world by John Armstrong

(Why do all the non-fiction books have sub-headings?)

The biography of the Curies, obviously, is about Marie and Pierre Curie, as well as their daughters Irene and Eve, but also contains some interesting background information on the politics and culture of Europe in the late 19th and early 20th centuries (mainly France and Poland). It's quite readable, but in terms of its physical weight, it's the heaviest of the books - not surprising, since it's the only hardback.

Perdido Street Station - which defies neat categorization, so I'm going with 'grunge fantasy' - is also physically heavy, despite being a paperback. I've nearly dropped it onto my cat, Willow, a few times (she likes to sit on my lap when I'm reading). Because it's a paperback, I make the mistake of holding it in one hand, usually with a cup of tea in the other. Eventually my hand will cramp-up, the muscles in my arm will give out, the book will tumble and Willow will be squashed. I'll have to be more careful.

Interestingly, Uncertainty, which is about the development of Quantum Physics in the early 20th century, and is the intellectually "heaviest" of the books, is actually the physically lightest. You'd think it should 'feel' heavy - but quantum physics is pretty wild and unpredictable; it doesn't like to go with the obvious.

I haven't read very much of Love, Life, Goethe, so I don't yet know how to be happy in an imperfect world. I need to read a bit faster, lest I become despairingly unhappy in an imperfect world. Its physical weight seems about right.

Children of the Alley is an allegory of the three Abrahamic religions: Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Physically, it's not nearly heavy enough.

The Brothers Karamazov: see this Effulgent13 label for anything Karamazov related. Physically, well, I can't really feel it anymore when I pick it up, it's just so much a part of me.

Sunday 21 June 2009

Nicole as Hibernating Bear

Today was the northern solstice (at 3:46pm EST). Or winter solstice for those in the southern hemisphere (ie. me). The sun is at its most northern point - directly over the Tropic of Cancer (during the southern solstice the sun is at its most southern point - directly over the Tropic of Capricorn). Last night was the longest night and today was the shortest day. I always mark the winter solstice. I notice the shortening days counting down to the solstice, and then the lengthening days on the other side. As the days get shorter I feel enclosed - the curtains are closed too early, the lamp turned on too soon and sleepy dark arrives well before I'm ready. And I am sleepier than usual; I go to bed earlier and have trouble getting up in the morning (more than usual), and I crave fatty, sugary foods (more than usual). Reasons - colder weather, too much melatonin due to lack of sunlight. I go into a kind of hibernation. Like a bear.

Snoozy:







Wednesday 17 June 2009

Karamazov Count: Page 200

I’ve now read 22% of "The Brothers Karamazov" by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. I'm becoming quite involved in the lives of those wacky Karamazov brothers (Dmitry, Ivan and Alyosha), and their obnoxious, lecherous, boozy father. It's a little tense at times. On page 160, the oldest brother knocked the crap out of papa Karamazov - they're both hot for the same woman (of course, being lecherous, papa Karamazov is hot for ALL women). But the story-telling is a little too slow at times. I'm noticing a definite over-meandering of words, a distinct inability, by Mr Dostoyevsky, to GET TO THE POINT.

But I will persevere. In fact I’m feeling extra motivated at the moment having been visited, last night, by the ghost of Dostoyevsky. We talked well into the night - he doesn't lack for words. It was a little unsettling though (my cat kept running through him, then meowing accusingly at me!). I wondered how I was able to understand him – perhaps my Russian is improving. He agreed with me that some of the events in the novel seem to take a long while to unfold (eg. 80 pages for one meeting!). But he explained that the slow pace and obsessive attention to detail are all part of the Karamazov Experience. He wasn’t too happy about my 2-pages-per-day reading technique. “Karamazov,” he ranted, “must be read as one, no intermissions! You children of the 20th century are weak and lazy. You are slaves to the infernal internet and the soul-eating television. There must be revolution!” Then he waffled on about how, when he was alive, he was nearly shot by a firing squad before being sent to a labour camp in Siberia, because he stood up for his principles. Bloody do-gooder.

Towards the end of the visitation, he showed me two possible futures: one where I don’t finish reading Karamazov and one where I do. It was very interesting. Apparently, if I don’t finish Karamazov, within the next 2 years, all of Dostoyevsky’s works will spontaneously combust, and all knowledge of him will disappear from the world. But if I do finish Karamazov, within the next 2 years, the ghost of Dostoyevsky won’t come back to haunt and torment me for the rest of my living days. (I’m beginning to suspect this was some kind of thinly veiled threat.)

In case anyone wonders how unnerving being visited by the ghost of Fyodor Dostoyevsky is, here is a photo of the crazy fucker…I mean, brilliant writer:




That is one spectacular beard. I have to admit to a little beard-envy. If I were a man I’d definitely grow a massive beard, at least once in my life. I do have one whisker though, which grows on the lower left side of my chin. But this whisker is really due to my kooky, pre-menopausal hormones, rather than any conscious effort on my part. I don’t know if many women have successfully grown beards. But some have tried. Read here about the valiant attempt of one woman to grow a beard.

Tuesday 9 June 2009

Existential Crisis

I think I've identified my problem – thankfully I only have the one problem – I might be having an existential crisis (now I really feel like a member of the human race).

Recently I watched the film “Year of the Dog”, in which a 40-something, unmarried, childless, animal-loving woman, working in a less-then-satisfying job, has a breakdown (existential crisis) after the death of her cherished dog. It’s described as a comedy but isn’t – it’s probably closer to a black comedy, but not quite – so I’ll have to categorize it as a grey comedy. It was a little difficult (sad, uncomfortable) to watch, but in the end I found it worthwhile. But I found it more worthwhile, even illuminating, when I listened to some of the commentary by the writer/director, where he used the exciting expression “Existential Crisis”, to describe what the woman was experiencing. (Interestingly, the film I watched next was “Superbad” – a film about teenage boys who are also experiencing existential crises - really).

So, what is an existential crisis. (Warning: film spoiler alert) In the case of the woman in the film her crisis evolves when she finds she doesn’t have anything in her life to deeply connect with, to be passionate about. A series of encounters following the death of her dog result in an obsession with animal rights; with her behaviour becoming increasingly erratic, and then dangerous, in support of this cause. (Another warning: dodgy sentence alert) Her animal obsession is both an external manifestation of her internal crisis, as well as being a strong indication of where her true passion lies. Eventually she is arrested (as can happen during an existential crisis) after she attempts to attack her deer-hunting neighbour. She finally realizes what she needs to do – she quits her job, leaves town and joins a group of animal activists.

I googled 'existential crisis' to find a definition, but it’s difficult to narrow down. Here are some possible explanations (from Wikipedia):

-A sense of being alone and isolated in the world
-A new found grasp or appreciation of one’s mortality
-Believing that one’s life has no purpose or external meaning
-Awareness of one’s freedom and the consequences of accepting or rejecting that freedom

I also found this comforting website which informs that: “You are alone.”

Does existence require meaning and purpose? Hell no. A few years ago I came up with a philosophy for life, which I can explain in 4 words: born, live, diewhatever. Other than that, we’re deluding ourselves. This might sound like a bleak philosophy, but it doesn’t have to be. It all depends on “whatever”. I’ve found so much more joy in “whatever” once I realised I was going to die – which was when I was in my mid-30’s (prior to this I believed I was immortal). So now I try to make the most of what I have, find out as much as I can (there’s a lot to know), try to make my brain the best that it can be – while (mostly) trying not to annoy anyone or anything in the process. And, hopefully, I will have made the best possible use of my existence before I keel over.

I have lapses, though. Sometimes my “whatever” doesn’t seem to be enough. I want more. I can’t be fulfilled unless I have more. Give me more! But I don’t need more. I can live quite well without more. In fact “more” might bring me misery. “More” might not be what my self-serving imagination has made of it.

Enough of the obscure. Back to the slightly less obscure.

Some people feel the need to make a mark on the world, or to change the world, or both. Is this about ego or compassion? Or both? Maybe this is the best combination for positive change. But what is “positive”? There are things I’d like changed about this world – but I don’t know how much of that is to my liking. What about everyone else’s liking? What if my way isn’t the fairest? I’ve always just survived the best I can, not trying to change the world but trying not to inflict damage. But I do inflict, not intentionally but from laziness and selfishness and inaction. And I don’t want to inflict. I wonder if this is at the heart of my existential crisis. It’s not very glamorous – be less lazy and selfish and more active. Fuck. Can’t it be something exciting, like buying red shoes or howling at the moon? Actually, I have a pair of red boots, and I am a little infatuated with the moon, but I’ve never howled at it.

Tuesday 2 June 2009

Paranoid

Being a weird loner myself, I find this bible quote interesting:

“Blessed are the weird loners: for they shall inherit the earth.” (Matthew 5:5)

Although some bibles say “Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth”, but Aramaic is notorious for getting lost in translation. Or having multiple translations. Or having translations that suit an agenda (ooooh – fighting words – Effulgent13 is a little rebellious today).

I’m not entirely sure what any of this has to do with the title of this blog entry. Perhaps paranoia is a characteristic of weird loners and the meek. Call me crazy (or Nicole – which I actually prefer) but I think being paranoid is a sensible state of mind. It should be the default position for humans. We’re standing on shaky ground, literally. Forget about inheriting the earth. We need to beware of the earth. All of us. The weird loners, the meek, the sociable and the downright noisy attention-seeking showponies, we’re all in trouble.

The Earth (and its minions) is out to get us. The changing climate, greenhouse gases, melting glaciers – it’s all part of the earth’s cunning plan. It spent millions of years observing us, and our ancestors, analysing our nature, until it formed the perfect plan. Coal. It offered up its fossilized carbon, which it had been brewing since its Carboniferous days (3oo million years ago), knowing we would abuse it. We are fools!

(I wonder if the earth had other plans for its fossilized carbon, it's certainly put a lot of effort into creating it - or maybe the earth presciently knew that Pre-Cambrian single-celled organisms would eventually evolve into people, and has been planning our destruction for 600 million years - spooky.)

And who are the minions? Right-hand minion is the Moon. With its control of the tides, human sanity and werewolves (and some believe, menstrual cycles) – it wields immense power. Formed as part of the Earth, but violently separated during a crazed cosmic storm, it shares a mind with the Earth. It’s definitely in on the plan.

And the left-hand minion? This is difficult to assert. I’d always assumed it was the Sun. Or maybe Cats. Both powerful forces in the universe (just ask the ancient Egyptians). But possibly too powerful. The sun, with its ability to burn a human in one afternoon, could surely wipeout all humans with a wave of its fiery hand. And Cats, with their amazing powers of mind-control and 9 lives, could easily subvert the human race. Actually, they’ve kind of already done this, at least with a substantial proportion of the population – and I think they’re in collusion with dogs, and possibly fish (why do people keep fish as pets, they’re not cuddly, they don’t wee on the carpet – they’re not very fun). I believe the Sun and Cats have agendas which are different from, and possibly, in opposition to, that of the Earth.

But I’m beginning to wonder about Mars. Could this elusive planet be the left-hand minion? It might not share a mind with the Earth, but the Earth and Mars probably have a telepathic connection. They formed in the same particle mire. They played together as children. These are strong and lasting connections. Currently, Mars is seducing humans with its promise of hidden water, luring us with surface markings that hint at ancient water erosion. It wants us to come to it. Then it’s going to eat us. Tasty. (I think this would be plan B or sub-plan A – if people start leaving the Earth and heading to Mars, because of climate change, then it's dinner time for the red planet).


Some Pictures:

Earth:






The Moon:





Mars:





Mars after ingesting humanity: