Autopsychographia
Abandoned Space
ASCENSION
CAN THERE BE A NATIONAL THEATER
OF THE INNER-SELF?
OF THE INNER-SELF?
NEWSPAPER & SCISSORS
A CASE FOR SNOW
Ascension
THE LAST MOORING OF OUR SAYING GOODBYE
HERE IS MY BOX of dejecta. Middle terms, various fragments, lengths of celluloid gathered from the floor of the cutting-room -- the collective’s cutting room floor. Little purges in the tensed struggle for brevity -- our storied mother of wit. Even though our laughter is forgetting, mostly. Which is like having no laughter at all. Yet no one can be in the position to ever be certain of this. But speaking for everybody, one would perhaps happen, or blunder as the outcome may present, into anything like a real argument. Yet one may hear you, and hear you with perfect understanding, but they may gather differently a whole other interpretation. They may hear you and they may say something entirely off the mark of what you meant to say. “Yes,” he may say, “I quite agree with you. Laughter is like that. Laughter is like there being no laughter at all.” He may say this, yet he may be thinking that while there are transports of laughter, what difference can it possibly make, since all is futile in the end. I mean to say -- What is futile? Answer me that! “Answer me this, please.” I would say. But will he hear me? I mean will he truly hear me? He may fall silent; he may fall silent and be merely taking pause, or he may have fallen into a stunned silence of the sort that brings even carefully nourished beliefs into question. A withering silence nevertheless, which only one with the best constitution could weather. In either case, it would be a simple matter of enduring, of keeping a straight countenance and enduring such silences -- whether they be of a somewhat protracted pause, or a silence of, let us say, that great performer of the stage who, while playing Phaedra before a rapt but nonetheless adoring audience, suddenly fell silent and ceased to utter further even a single syllable. And this not uttering even a single syllable went on for many, many years I gather. I imagine that it must take an enormous force of character to successfully pull off a feat such as this -- who can say for sure that it is a necessary silence, or moreover that this silence shares any sort of relation with the larger and perhaps more profound silence of anything like what the cosmic ocean may present in its terrifying and absolutely unsettling capacity to harbor anything like what we mean when we talk about what is fathomless, what is eternal -- in that it would be something so monstrous and horrible as to dwarf each and every one of us, to dwarf us I say, on the order of an enormity such as an infinite, infinite number of endless infinities! I mean holy! Yet on the other hand one could perhaps see how this may not be horrible at all, but actually present the possibility of some sort of enfolding, gentle principle fostering many layers, variations and all manner of comfort. I mean, while one may carelessly careen through life heedlessly nourishing all hurts, there’s this incredible immersion in the infinite bliss that has been going on all along, yes, and all along mending and healing, even though one may go through much of one’s lifetime scarcely aware that anything like this is actually going on. May yet have glimpsed it, glimpsed it as a bee tastes honey while laboring at the hive. And the boat and the boy and the bride are away.
Can There be a National Theater of the Inner-Self?
ON THE PROBLEM OF A DRAMA OF THE INNER-SELF
(fragments)
I AM SKEPTICAL of any reductionist categories. Yet, there's that fundamental problem of knowing the self. If one were to set about writing a drama of the self, therein one must set forth with two characters. The one being that character whom we ideally see ourselves as, and the other being the character as-others-see-us. For instance, if I go through my days seeing myself as a lady's man, then let the first character be a lady's man. And if others in fact see this lady's man as a grey church-mouse, then let the second character be a grey church-mouse. Now, the dramatic conflict immediately arises when the lady's man meets a stunning beauty. This stunning beauty happens not to see herself as such. She sees herself as the worst, the lowliest sort of creature. Let's call this character which accompanies the beauty, for the sake of clarity, the ugly duckling. Yet if we were to listen in to how the character who is the ugly duckling incessantly berates and maliciously lambastes herself in her thoughts, which is to be of course understood as the beautiful character -- as we and grey church-mouse see her -- berating and lambasting herself and
Newspaper & Scissors
ON THE PROBLEM OF A DRAMA OF THE INNER-SELF
(fragments)
I AM SKEPTICAL of any reductionist categories. Yet, there's that fundamental problem of knowing the self. If one were to set about writing a drama of the self, therein one must set forth with two characters. The one being that character whom we ideally see ourselves as, and the other being the character as-others-see-us. For instance, if I go through my days seeing myself as a lady's man, then let the first character be a lady's man. And if others in fact see this lady's man as a grey church-mouse, then let the second character be a grey church-mouse. Now, the dramatic conflict immediately arises when the lady's man meets a stunning beauty. This stunning beauty happens not to see herself as such. She sees herself as the worst, the lowliest sort of creature. Let's call this character which accompanies the beauty, for the sake of clarity, the ugly duckling. Yet if we were to listen in to how the character who is the ugly duckling incessantly berates and maliciously lambastes herself in her thoughts, which is to be of course understood as the beautiful character -- as we and grey church-mouse see her -- berating and lambasting herself and
Others look on and can not understand it. How does such a grey church-mouse get on with such a beauty. The grey church-mouse has no doubt as to the gratefulness of this beauty to be seen with such a stunning lady's man such as himself. The amazing beauty can only wonder why anybody would venture a word.
When comes the day, and alas soon, when the grey church-mouse throws the amazing beauty over, she's scarcely surprised. And when that day comes and she glimpses grey church mouse with another woman -- she does not give it a second thought, just gathers up her belongings and goes. And as she goes, men with jaunty caps give a whistle and she smiles. Now one of these men with a jaunty cap was not a nice man, in fact he was a mean one. And even though he relished the sport, he did not imagine himself to be a mean man. Not at all. On the contrary he knew himself to be a champion of the ladies. His forte was noses of men who crossed him -- mashing noses flat with his fists. He'd let fly teeth if given the chance. So here was a lady's man who liked to strike up conversation with any stunning beauty, and with even the not so beautiful, for if they ever be ladies of any stripe he was ever ready and at their service in an instant. The amazing beauty who believed herself to be the ugly duckling could care less whether he came sauntering her way or not. Blithely she went along the pavement -- carelessly she let this mean one so easily into her life. Until one day, when
the lady's man beds a beauty only to awaken in the morning in her arms, but in her arms as the grey church-mouse. Meanwhile, the bedded beauty is accompanied by the fourth character who's say a maudlin mary, or a plain jane, or a yellow wallflower -- of which she sees herself. And thus she wakes up in the arms of a grey church-mouse and she's crushed to be so plain. Moreover, we see her as being in fact the stunning beauty that she is -- which is also how the grey church-mouse sees her. Yet, she
Newspaper & Scissors
No, no one knows where he is. There's no way her family's paying for this now.
Sixty thousand dollars just to rent the hall! Did you see all the orchids?
What did you think of the cake?
A Case for Snow
CORRECTIONS
THEN AND NOW: The L.A. Then and Now column about singer and film star Pedro Infante in the Sunday California section said the song "Yo No Fui" translated as "I Didn't Leave." The translation is "It Was Not Me."
The Big Picture column in Tuesday's Calendar section described the film "Screamers" as being about Turkish genocide. It is about the Armenian genocide in Turkey.
Exxon Valdez: An article on Tuesday's Opinion page about corporate responsibility misstated the date of the Exxon Valdez oil spill. It was in 1989, not 1979.
Joshua trees: An article about author Deanne Stillman in the Feb. 4 Calendar section said Joshua trees grow only in Joshua Tree National Park. They exist elsewhere.
A music review on Feb. 12 about “Eugene Onegin,” at the Metropolitan Opera, misstated a character’s name. He is Prince Gremin, not Gremlin.
A picture caption on Saturday about national elections in Lesotho attributed an erroneous distinction to the African country’s mountain range, where a young herder was shown with his dogs. While Lesotho’s Maluti mountain range is the highest range in southern Africa, it is not the highest range in all of Africa (Both the Atlas and Ruwenzori ranges have higher peaks).
...Eastern Shore, said he has seen that kind of damage. "I looked at my great uncle a couple of times," said Johnson, a retired corrections officer. "There was a hole in the side of the vault, and he was floating on a casket piece. "But in most of the instances..."
An article on Dec. 31 about winter events in St. Petersburg, Russia, referred incorrectly to the Seventh Symphony of Shostakovich. He composed part of it as shells fell on the city (then known as Leningrad); he did not conduct it. The article also referred incorrectly to meters in taxis there. Taxis typically have meters, but they are not always used.
A map with the 36 Hours column on Dec. 24 about Paris incorrectly located the Champs-Élysées. The avenue runs from the Arc de Triomphe to the Place de la Concorde, not to the Place de la République.
An article in The Arts yesterday about Steven Johnson, the author of ''The Ghost Map: The Story of London's Most Terrifying Epidemic -- and How It Changed Science, Cities, and the Modern World,'' misidentified his major at Brown. It was semiotics, not semantics.
The Photographer's Journal caption last Sunday, with a picture showing a poster with a disembodied face and hands in a trash can, misstated the location. It was Third Avenue in Manhattan, not Fourth Avenue.
An Op-Ed article on Nov. 8 mischaracterized the innovation for which Robert Fulton is known. It is steam navigation for ships, not the creation of the steam engine.
The obituary of the New Yorker cartoonist and children's author William Steig in some editions on Sunday and some on Monday credited him erroneously with a famous 1928 cartoon. The drawing, of a child refusing a vegetable, is by Carl Rose, and the caption -- ''I say it's spinach, and I say the hell with it'' -- is by E. B. White.
A map in Science Times on Tuesday with an article about forecasting ocean conditions misspelled the name of a canyon in Monterey Bay. It is Soquel Canyon, not Sequel.
Rafe Esquith: The Words listings in Thursday's Calendar Weekend said that teacher Rafe Esquith would discuss his book "Teach Like Your Hair's on Fire" at 7 p.m. Tuesday at the Mark Taper Forum in Los Angeles. The event will take place at the Mark Taper Auditorium at the Richard J. Riordan Library, 630 W. 5th St., Los Angeles.
The credit for a ring worn by the model in "Why Not Be Perfect?" (The Forever Young Issue, July 9) was omitted: Anthony Nak citrine ring, at Barneys New York, Beverly Hills
The recipe for roasted tomato oil dressing that accompanied a trout recipe by chef Josie Le Balch ("Into the Frying Pan," Style, April 2) did not have the measurement for extra-virgin olive oil. It is 1/4 cup.
The caption for the photograph with the article "'Terrorist Chic' and Beyond" (Men's Fashion Issue, April 9) misidentified the location of Barbara's at the Brewery. It is in Lincoln Heights, not downtown.
The Big Picture column in Tuesday's Calendar section described the film "Screamers" as being about Turkish genocide. It is about the Armenian genocide in Turkey.
Exxon Valdez: An article on Tuesday's Opinion page about corporate responsibility misstated the date of the Exxon Valdez oil spill. It was in 1989, not 1979.
Joshua trees: An article about author Deanne Stillman in the Feb. 4 Calendar section said Joshua trees grow only in Joshua Tree National Park. They exist elsewhere.
A music review on Feb. 12 about “Eugene Onegin,” at the Metropolitan Opera, misstated a character’s name. He is Prince Gremin, not Gremlin.
A picture caption on Saturday about national elections in Lesotho attributed an erroneous distinction to the African country’s mountain range, where a young herder was shown with his dogs. While Lesotho’s Maluti mountain range is the highest range in southern Africa, it is not the highest range in all of Africa (Both the Atlas and Ruwenzori ranges have higher peaks).
...Eastern Shore, said he has seen that kind of damage. "I looked at my great uncle a couple of times," said Johnson, a retired corrections officer. "There was a hole in the side of the vault, and he was floating on a casket piece. "But in most of the instances..."
An article on Dec. 31 about winter events in St. Petersburg, Russia, referred incorrectly to the Seventh Symphony of Shostakovich. He composed part of it as shells fell on the city (then known as Leningrad); he did not conduct it. The article also referred incorrectly to meters in taxis there. Taxis typically have meters, but they are not always used.
A map with the 36 Hours column on Dec. 24 about Paris incorrectly located the Champs-Élysées. The avenue runs from the Arc de Triomphe to the Place de la Concorde, not to the Place de la République.
An article in The Arts yesterday about Steven Johnson, the author of ''The Ghost Map: The Story of London's Most Terrifying Epidemic -- and How It Changed Science, Cities, and the Modern World,'' misidentified his major at Brown. It was semiotics, not semantics.
The Photographer's Journal caption last Sunday, with a picture showing a poster with a disembodied face and hands in a trash can, misstated the location. It was Third Avenue in Manhattan, not Fourth Avenue.
An Op-Ed article on Nov. 8 mischaracterized the innovation for which Robert Fulton is known. It is steam navigation for ships, not the creation of the steam engine.
The obituary of the New Yorker cartoonist and children's author William Steig in some editions on Sunday and some on Monday credited him erroneously with a famous 1928 cartoon. The drawing, of a child refusing a vegetable, is by Carl Rose, and the caption -- ''I say it's spinach, and I say the hell with it'' -- is by E. B. White.
A map in Science Times on Tuesday with an article about forecasting ocean conditions misspelled the name of a canyon in Monterey Bay. It is Soquel Canyon, not Sequel.
Rafe Esquith: The Words listings in Thursday's Calendar Weekend said that teacher Rafe Esquith would discuss his book "Teach Like Your Hair's on Fire" at 7 p.m. Tuesday at the Mark Taper Forum in Los Angeles. The event will take place at the Mark Taper Auditorium at the Richard J. Riordan Library, 630 W. 5th St., Los Angeles.
The credit for a ring worn by the model in "Why Not Be Perfect?" (The Forever Young Issue, July 9) was omitted: Anthony Nak citrine ring, at Barneys New York, Beverly Hills
The recipe for roasted tomato oil dressing that accompanied a trout recipe by chef Josie Le Balch ("Into the Frying Pan," Style, April 2) did not have the measurement for extra-virgin olive oil. It is 1/4 cup.
The caption for the photograph with the article "'Terrorist Chic' and Beyond" (Men's Fashion Issue, April 9) misidentified the location of Barbara's at the Brewery. It is in Lincoln Heights, not downtown.
Neighborly Advice: The Jan. 7 column incorrectly stated that Loma Linda is in the San Gabriel Valley.
Correction: An editorial yesterday misstated the percentage of direct care workers at Massachusetts General Hospital vaccinated against the flu. It is 59 percent.
Correction: Because of a reporting error, the Friday Mass Cash lottery number listed in Sunday's City and Region section was incorrect. The correct number is 1-5-16-33-34.
A production error in the Jan. 21 Home and Garden section caused some instructions to be repeated in the sage and sun-dried tomato butter recipe in the Dishing with Ron Bilaro column. The correct instructions are: Heat oil and butter in a medium skillet over medium heat; add sage and tomatoes. Cook until fragrant, about 3 minutes.
Correction: An editorial yesterday misstated the percentage of direct care workers at Massachusetts General Hospital vaccinated against the flu. It is 59 percent.
Correction: Because of a reporting error, the Friday Mass Cash lottery number listed in Sunday's City and Region section was incorrect. The correct number is 1-5-16-33-34.
A production error in the Jan. 21 Home and Garden section caused some instructions to be repeated in the sage and sun-dried tomato butter recipe in the Dishing with Ron Bilaro column. The correct instructions are: Heat oil and butter in a medium skillet over medium heat; add sage and tomatoes. Cook until fragrant, about 3 minutes.
An item in the Sunday Magazine referred to a popular but unfounded notion that Eskimos have dozens of words for snow, in this case 40. The item failed to note that the assertion has been debunked by linguists and others.
It's been said that the Inuit have forty words for snow, reflecting how profoundly connected their lives are with the white stuff.
If so, what does the following say about us?
Murder, kill, slay, assassinate, dispatch, hit, annihilate, eliminate, eradicate, rub out, liquidate, execute, ice, cool, do in, do away with, bump off, knock off, finish off, massacre, slaughter, waste, wipe out, zap, silence, cap, whack, snuff, extinguish, exterminate, decimate, shed blood, take for a ride, take out.
Shoot, gun down, plug, fill full of lead, mow down, stab, knife, slash, flay, cut out the giblets of, eviscerate, garrote, hang, strangle, smother, suffocate, choke, asphyxiate, drown, defenestrate, bludgeon, crucify, poison, behead, guillotine, lynch, starve, gas, blow up, bomb, atomize, incinerate.
There's way more, but that's enough for a Sunday morning.
An article on Page 1 Saturday about the presidential election in Turkmenistan incorrectly stated what Turkmen leader Saparmurat Niyazov, who died December 21, had renamed the month of May while he was president. He renamed it Makhtumkuli, after a famous Turkmen poet, and not after his father.
The incorrect name referred to in the correction about a program that tries to improve the self-esteem and confidence of at-risk and inner-city youths by teaching them how to snowboard was published in Monday's Metro section and Monday's Red Eye edition.
Published by special permission of the author.
Abandoned Space lives and works in New York City.
website: http://www.myspace.com/anonoma
If so, what does the following say about us?
Murder, kill, slay, assassinate, dispatch, hit, annihilate, eliminate, eradicate, rub out, liquidate, execute, ice, cool, do in, do away with, bump off, knock off, finish off, massacre, slaughter, waste, wipe out, zap, silence, cap, whack, snuff, extinguish, exterminate, decimate, shed blood, take for a ride, take out.
Shoot, gun down, plug, fill full of lead, mow down, stab, knife, slash, flay, cut out the giblets of, eviscerate, garrote, hang, strangle, smother, suffocate, choke, asphyxiate, drown, defenestrate, bludgeon, crucify, poison, behead, guillotine, lynch, starve, gas, blow up, bomb, atomize, incinerate.
There's way more, but that's enough for a Sunday morning.
An article on Page 1 Saturday about the presidential election in Turkmenistan incorrectly stated what Turkmen leader Saparmurat Niyazov, who died December 21, had renamed the month of May while he was president. He renamed it Makhtumkuli, after a famous Turkmen poet, and not after his father.
The incorrect name referred to in the correction about a program that tries to improve the self-esteem and confidence of at-risk and inner-city youths by teaching them how to snowboard was published in Monday's Metro section and Monday's Red Eye edition.
Published by special permission of the author.
Abandoned Space lives and works in New York City.
website: http://www.myspace.com/anonoma
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