Desktop is dead. Long live the desktop! My last piece featured Dark Star, a dirge, an orchestral lament for a (mostly) well-loved computer. Like a plaintive child, I cried at the unfairness of it all. "I want to play with my keyboard!" Ha, doing so now. Gathering dust in a corner were the component parts… Continue reading Phoenix Rising
Category: rambling
Yes Dear
retrieved from a post published elsewhere on October 20th, 2016 In my last I mentioned “a post in preparation, called ‘Just Words’, but it may take several days, or forever.” All very well but there is real life to be lived, can’t leave this hanging & festering like a debt with mounting interest due. “Just… Continue reading Yes Dear
Luck & Angelic Messengers
Written July 10th, 2008. Worth republishing for the conversations among readers. See the Comments section, below It rained continually yesterday, didn’t stop but went through varying intensities. It reached the point that everyone ignored the light drizzle. Before the day was over I was taking no notice of the moderate rain either. I was fixing… Continue reading Luck & Angelic Messengers
Inner and Outer Landscape
A rambling essay written on October 19th, 2014, not published here before I decided to go for my usual loaf of bread by a circuitous route, over the Pastures; or rather, my feet took me that way while I readied myself to share what I had to say to Olympus, my companion of the road,… Continue reading Inner and Outer Landscape
Me and the Little Rock Nine
Another post to republish, written in March 2013, and relating to my life in 1958, aware of a momentous event in American history Now that my 16th birthday’s out of the way—it’s become a family event, this year bigger than last—the most exciting thing going on in my life is Winter’s retreat and Spring’s approach:… Continue reading Me and the Little Rock Nine
Back on the Briar Patch
Note to self on 12th March 2018: there is something seriously wrong with this post, but I'll fix it some day. Comment on 1st April 2026: I've no idea what, but have put in some missing graphics I never like to fight with a tar-baby. That's a game for losers, as Brer Rabbit discovers, when… Continue reading Back on the Briar Patch
Getting spruced up
This could describe me: While out walking I’ve formulated perfect phrases which I can’t remember when I get home. I’m not sure if the ineffable poetry of these phrases belongs totally to what they were (and which I forgot), or partly to what they weren’t. [from fragment 399 of The Book of Disquiet, by Fernando… Continue reading Getting spruced up
The printing-factory
I wonder why, out of the mass of all we forget, some inconsequential things stick in our minds. Perhaps they chime with our destiny, that elusive future no one can see till it arrives. And when it does, perhaps something from our rag-bag of memories may “ring a bell”, as if it had been foreshadowed.… Continue reading The printing-factory
The Sun-Dial Factory
I’ve written several times about the factory across from our bedroom and how the morning sun progressively reaches down from the tips of its roof. When you wake and look out, it gives you an idea of what time it is, taking the season into account. On many nights and days too, I see the… Continue reading The Sun-Dial Factory
Reader-Friendly
Seen rightly, the blog must be one of the great inventions for raising literature to a higher level. Apart from offering instant publication without middle-man intervention, it opens itself to instant feedback from readers. It can be edited ad libitum. Unlike a periodical, it has no obligation to publish at any set interval, or at all.… Continue reading Reader-Friendly
Binding a joy
He who binds to himself a joy Doth the wingèd life destroy; But he who kisses the joy as it flies Lives in eternity’s sunrise. This verse of William Blake is never far from me, internalised, imprinted upon my unconscious, and a work in progress. There is joy in being alive; breathing fresh air; having… Continue reading Binding a joy
Beginnings
My head says that the perfect wayfaring is to follow an ancient trail through the hills, where the eye can roam to horizons beyond where the feet can tread: a Himalaya or Grand Canyon of the soul. My feet know better. The other day, I set out on a banal errand, accompanying Karleen to town… Continue reading Beginnings
Sexual energy
Years ago, before the public library in this town was cunningly pruned and restocked to reflect the scientifically-determined reading taste of the residents, it contained some quirky books that made a rainy-day visit into an exciting adventure. In the foreign languages section I found a novel by Pierre Boulle. I was astonished to discover he… Continue reading Sexual energy
Preferring the old telephones
One of the useful functions of retirement must surely be to relive one’s youth. In between comes a time of working to support a-family and pay the mortgage, which can be irksome to the spirit. It’s easy to forget how hard it was to become adult: to find somewhere to live and pay a month’s… Continue reading Preferring the old telephones
Choosing mediocrity
Sometimes I wonder if I’ve chosen eccentricity as an alternative spiritual path. I was encouraged down this track by reading John Cowper Powys, who I consider to be the greatest novelist in English of the twentieth century, despite being hardly known. He was noted for obsessive fetishes, like baptising his walking sticks in rivers. I’d… Continue reading Choosing mediocrity
Lure of the Ordinary
Thursday, October 25, 2007 An ordinary valley For some months now, I’ve been drawn to the ordinary. I can’t exactly explain why. Perhaps something has rubbed off from walking the streets in Babylon Town and in this narrow valley. I live not far from little river which sneaks behind factories, workshops and the common dwellings… Continue reading Lure of the Ordinary
What is War?
I write early on Sunday morning, the windows having been wide open all night to maximise coolth in the bedroom, & no curtains pulled across so that light stole in long before dawn. Witty voices and song renditions from passing revellers and karaoke contestants also stole in to enliven the night hours. It’s a consequence… Continue reading What is War?