Wednesday, May 20, 2009

The Continuing Saga

I received an email from Amazon yesterday saying, "Congratulations! We, the benevolent ones, have decided the time is almost right for you to receive the item for which we already charged you. Since you paid the ransom, we've released your Linksys KVM switch unharmed to the shipping gods."

Not really, but since I ordered the switch May 14, and the online ad read, "Usually ships within 24 hours," I foolishly thought it would be on the truck within the stated time frame. Oh, dopey me. The package is now in the hands of UPS awaiting liberation after a road trip across this great land of ours. I'll trust 'Brown' when the switch is in my hands.

I don't generally read poetry

There are many metaphors and allusions in them, names of mythological divinities, meant to symbolize the subject, that I just don't understand. But, making an effort to try something new, I dug out an old book, Treasury of the Familiar, and browsed some of the great poems of the ages. It is for just this reason that I collect anthologies, those old, forgotten Reader's Digest Treasuries, compilations of all sorts. The books that used to be on every shelf to provide a tinge of the immortal on dusky evenings by the hearth. So many people are touched by poetry, it seems ignorant to ignore it altogether. One thing I've noticed, it helps to read aloud, to get the full rhythm of the words.

The only forays into poetry that I myself have taken encompass my song lyrics, and a few very entertaining e-mails. It is a mood, once begun, that lasts in my mind for a while, setting words together, arranging ideas in consonance. It's a lot of fun, and can be quite meaningful.

I often think that blogging is immaterial, my personal ignorant opinion on all sorts of subjects, without regard to the true realities of matter. Subjective likes and opinions, that change as fast as they can be revealed. But friendship and community is often defined by what we share, the peculiar joys of delight in finding a common interest. That is why I can hazard to say, for example, that I revel in the eccentricity of the words of Poe, and sweep aside the whole of Shakespeare as out of my depth. But only for this time. Hopefully, as I branch out, a tasteful appreciation of more poetry will enter into my head.

But for all the passion in poetry, it is the commonplace that struck me in my readings this week. You might enjoy it too.

What We May Live Without
Edward Lytton

We may live without poetry, music and art;
We may live without conscience and live without heart;
We may live without friends; we may live without books;
But a civilized man cannot live without cooks.

He may live without books, - what is knowledge but grieving?
He may live without hope, - what is hope but deceiving?
He may live without love, - what is passion but pining?
But where is the man that can live without dining?

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Fat Buster Doctor

Finally, a miracle cure for fat that really works! You are a Fat Buster Doctor and you have a high-tech anti-fat scanner that generates fat-busting codes in this online memory game. Scan your clients to find out how they broke their diets. Watch for the code. Then, punch the code into the machine exactly as it appeared. No mistakes, or your clients will gain fat. Level up to more complex fat-busting and become the top Fat Buster Doc!



See more memory games

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Novocain

Today's main event was an exciting trip to the dentist. I'm really reaching low when I have to talk about teeth on the blog. Maybe no one wants to hear about it, so I'll say very little. Fear Factor should have a stunt involving dentistry. It seems to top the fears of most people. I would say that my dislike of needles in any situation is pretty high on the list, leading me to stay away from dentists, dealers and doctors. But the visit today was less painful that I expected, four fillings. I've got four more coming next week.

On the subject of books, a pleasurable meander through a large second hand store in the city produced several neat things. I bought Erasmus' Praise of Folly, The Four Loves by C. S. Lewis, I'm a Stranger Here Myself by the very funny Bill Bryson and finally, Confessions of a Philosopher by Bryan Magee. Also on the shelf is a volume of poetry by Alexander Pope. Poetry isn't really my favorite, so I doubt that Pope will get read, at least not very quickly.

I can't tell if this blog is becoming boring. That is another fear, coming after heights, snakes and robbers.