Critical Mass of Crazy
I wonder if there is a certain amount of crazy that a group cannot exceed and continue to function. Perhaps not so much an exact number, but a ratio of total crazy to number of group members. I think about this because I work with some really nutso people, and it doesn’t seem one building should be enough to contain all of this.
Then again, perhaps it works the other way? Maybe a certain amount of crazy is required? As if crazy was fertilizer and Beethoven music. It may be that the best gardens require the most disparate seeds.
Really, imagine how dull life would be if everyone agreed with you all the time. Certainly, if everyone agreed with me all the time, the world would be a smooth and ordered place, but what opportunity for debate, for new ideas, for synthesis….
There’s a happy balance, I suppose, as there is in most things. Some ideas are just bad. Detrimental to the accomplishment of their purposes. Detrimental to the survival of the species or the planet. Those are problems. Excessive oddity? Not so much an issue, but I still wonder how we can function in this messed-up workplace.
Links
What with moving this site to a new server and finishing out the semester, I haven’t been taking much time to think of interesting posts for you all to read. So you’re getting some links that I have starred in Google Reader that I think more people should see. Also, for the few people who comment, I’m using the commentluv plugin which is supposed to include a link to your most recent blog post (if it can find it) I assume based on the website address you enter.
Breaking the Glass - Seth Godin
When you’re ready to make the leap, to commit, to make something happen, you break the glass. The sculpture is ruined.
Every Living Creature Dies Alone - Neggles
This is the post I reference in The Other down below.
Now, don’t think me one of those manic-depressive people. I’m very pleased with life at the moment (though in all honesty, I feel more aloof to life than anything else). I’m engaged to a wonderful man. My classes are going well. I ate steak last night, and it was delicious. But because I am the only person who can experience this as I do, I am a singular existence.
Writing About Myself - Mariacristina
Well-written blog posts are mini essays. Some are lyric, some are personal, others didactic, and still others bombastic. By and large, most bloggers write in the first person, and include details of their personal life on the page.
100 Things - Goldmourn
In which we learn many things about the auther. One hundred of them, in fact.
01. I was born in St. Thomas, Ontario, Canada in 1978.
02. I have a collection of zines purchased mostly through the internet.
03. I wonder if I’ll ever complete / create something that is worthwhile.
What are you About? - jblanton
Does your Blog have an about page? Most likely it does? If someone happens upon your blog they might want to know who is behind the blog post they just read or more importantly what the blog is about. The about page is one of the easiest ways for someone that has no idea who you are or ever been to your blog to get the scoop quickly and easily. Its your job to take the time to put together a nice page describing all this.
Lantana: NaPoWriMo 23 - Mariacristina
I really mean to stop by her site and tell her this, but this piece really reminds me of Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities, which I liked as well.
Lantana
is a miniature town carved in rock high on the Cathedral of St. Peter and St. Paul, on Peachtree Street in Atlanta, Georgia. Most Atlantans remain unaware of its existence, as Lantana perches along the eaves of the cathedral.
Waiting until the last minute - Seth Godin
In a nutshell: don’t.
Bad situations to wait until the last minute:
- Catching a transcontinental flight
- Asking your secret crush to the prom
Consequences
If you’re seeing this, the move worked, fallen verses is on a new server. blogroll is gone, so the links will be added back slowly. sidebar needs work. I’m curious what all of your thought are, particularly on the theme. Is it too “girly?” I mean, I know it’s pink and all, but I’m okay with pink. it’s a calming “cherry blossom” pink. cherry blossoms are associated with samurai. ergo, pink is good for manly, warrior men. good enough for me. But definitely, I’d like to know what you all think.
Also, some of the links and post titles will be changing due to some of the dynamic page-creation devices I now have at my disposal, so if you’re links get brokeded, I’m sorry.
EDIT: I think it’s all working. The new comment moderation system requires the author have at least one approved comment before people can just post, we’ll see how that goes. Again, question, comments, conecerns, proposals of marriage: tom [at] fallenverses.org*
*kidding about marriage proposals, by the way. You never know who’s gonna read these things; I thought I should clarify.
Moving the site
Just an fyi:
Over the next few days I’ll be moving the site over to a new hosting. I’m switching from wordpress.com to bluehost.com; they already host another site for me, so I figure I might as well use the vast storage and transfer rates and get a bit more customization.
I won’t be changing the domain, so everyone using http://fallenverses.org shouldn’t have any issues once I change the nameservers.
Anyone subscribing should use the feedburner feed which I don’t know what it is off-hand. That will be automatically redirected as well, or redirected by me, or something, before I make the switch.
If you have any problems with the site now, after the switch, during the switch or have any problems with the rss or just want to harass me: tom (at) fallenverses.org.
Unless something screws up an mx record that shouldn’t have any problems.
the Other
I came across someone (though I do not remember who) musing on a blog about the utterly solitary nature of human existence. And it’s true, isn’t it? We are all born into a unique universe; no one can share the same set of experiences, the same set of responses and reactions and secret, hidden thoughts.
Granted, for most people there will be a lot of overlap. The reality we share is fundamentally similar and allows at least a facile sort of communication between people. I think, though, about intimate relationships. Mostly of the committed-intimate-romantic type, though I think the ideas hold as well for other sorts of interactions. Does this limit to communication ultimately help or hinder? Even the experience of seeing a color is going to be different between two people, not only for ocular differences in observing its color values and the situational differences in viewing angle and reflectance and the silly physics stuff, but for the connotation of color. The random incident where someone wearing a red shirt pissed you off or the guy in the teal sweater-vest creeped you out or the pink of roses bought for a special someone on an incredible night. Any experience is the sum of all experience, and that could never be communicated. There is a disconnect between language’s ability to communicate and our ability to experience.
Is this good? Does this maintain individuality in the face of intimacy? That on some level any “shared” experience is still yours, alone? Or is this disconnect, this failure of communicate itself, a barrier preventing true intimacy? Is the mystery of an Other a necessity or a tragedy?
Inconceivable!
Attraction is such an ephemeral beast; I hate it… I like it, too… it’s an ambivalent relationship.
How can I possibly be attracted to someone with whom I’ve had virtually no interaction, of which all I know of her is that we share one small interest, and that her voice is maddeningly appealing.
Don’t know her age, her appearance, her politics, what cuisine she like… none of this. So how, on this slight knowledge of her existence, should I be attracted to her???
Revisiting the Conversation
I’d like to touch on a subject I’ve talked about before, at least a bit, is that of the Conversation. Every experience we have as people informs us and alters our later behaviors. As writers, artist more generally, but as writers, we seek out these experiences, these influences, and we seek to be those influences for others. I like to think of it as a web of piano-wire, the entirety vibrating in some cacophonous glee. As wires are tightened or loosened the rest of the web has to adjust to accommodate. And the whole song has changed.
For me, one of the highest honors that can be paid is to have influenced someone, to have changed the tenor of their conversation with the world. Paisley paid me that honor this week.
Today has been a, well, a pretty good day. I showed up to class on time and prepared (that’s a shock), met with my instructor after class and received some useful feedback on my poetry. One of the hardest things about being a writer, is finding out who we should be in a conversation with. Frankly, Longfellow would not inspire me much at all. My instructor suggested Wallace Stevens and, even more, John Berryman. They’ll be added to my reading list.
After that, I managed to get done a giant research project that I had thought I could not get done. It’s not great, but done and… solid. Got a paper back, an A, yay, got out of class early. There’s a nice bit of pride in all of that… and yet…
And yet…
At the end of the day, I still drove home to an empty apartment. I’ll still be sleeping in an otherwise empty bed. As nice and intellectually satisfying as The Conversation is, it still falls flat compared to shared experience, compared to intimacy, compared to directly twisting those piano wires and hearing the song….
We’re all special snowflakes, unique. Some are beautiful. Some intricate. I suppose I’m just looking for a snowflake in my life whose structure appeals. But how?
Distraction
The longer-time readers of my meandering thoughts may have caught that I enjoy Boston Legal. For the last week or so I have been re-watching the series. Tonight I began season 3. Fantastic show.
For forty-five minutes at a time, I can ignore the complete barrenness of the midwest (barren culturally, there is certainly enough corn). Or if not Boston Legal, there are books, or video games: distractions.
The problem with distractions, after you have piled distraction upon distraction is that eventually you come back to reality and no matter where you went, no matter the adventures and insights, you’re life is still there.
The dream while wrapped snuggly in the warm blanket of distraction fades to the flatness of an Iowan plain. You still wake up to… I still wake up to my life as me and something in the relation of those two things is the issue. The relation of entities… what’s between… I think, perhaps, that I live too much in gradations. I should introduce more absolutism.
Wisdom by Chocolate part 2
I can’t decide if the chocolates are attempting to proffer advice of if they are just taunting.
Don’t think about it so much.
Naughty can be nice.
Send a love letter this week.
Dare to love completely.
Love without rules.
When two hearts race, both win.
Wisdom by Chocolate
I opened up a tasty chocolate morsel and it told me:
Lose yourself in a moment.
Better than a fortune cookie, and better tasting.
Fortunately, it didn’t tell me
Finish your freakin’ homework.
Because that’s just not happening. Back to procrastination. And chocolate.
