Updates to recent posts

[porphyry]

1. The other day A. called out from the back-seat of the car, "I wish they would stop all those weird noises!" "There is nothing weird about Brahms," I told him, imagining he meant the stereo, but he said nothing to that and a moment later came, "And I wish they would stop all those weird voices talking to me all the time!"

"When do you these voices talk to you?" I asked, somewhat alarmed.

"In the morning."

"You mean when you are waking up? You must mean dreams."

"No, I'm not asleep. Its at night and in the morning when I am lying in bed."

"Well, it is a kind of dream. You think you're awake, but you're not. You're between dreaming and waking." I could not resist telling him these are hypnogogic states, but even to him I am sure that made no impression.


2. Here is A.'s latest toy:



(don't ask me why he's not nude)

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Wow, is that uncool that I'm replying so quickly. Anyway, I happened to find your reply today and next week I'm off-line for five days, so.

I can never get enough of a book that really interests me. (Like favourite music, like favourite paintings.) So I guess Joyce, Horace and a few others will eventually have taken my whole lifetime. I'm not complaining.

Joyce calls Finnegans Wake "the hardest crux ever" (FW 623). It's without the apostrophe, by the way. Wow, you really didn't get very deep into it, hahaha! (Just kidding.) I wouldn't want to answer any questions on that book in general, I couldn't draw a map so to speak, but I could go on forever about things I found in the underwood. Frightfully fertile ground, that, and a very straining read.