“And if they will learn any thing, let them ask their husbands at home…”
“14:34 Let your women keep silence in the churches: for it is not permitted unto them to speak; but they are commanded to be under obedience as also saith the law.
14:35 And if they will learn any thing, let them ask their husbands at home: for it is a shame for women to speak in the church.”
Look: no opinion, just posting the quote.
Circulating on various social media, there was a great nature shot, a still image of a roadrunner and coyote, set against a dusky backdrop, with the hint being the desert southwest.
Up early in the mornings to fish while the fish are feeding, and before the brutal Texas sun is cranked up to “broil,” I noticed a roadrunner, pecking through the dirt in front of the cabin.
Geococccyx Californianus
He had his ragged crest up, and to me, it looked like a proud Mohawk, just needed a tad bit of dye to make it stand out.
Next morning, he was on the deck itself, and I got picture. Crest wasn’t up, and it might’ve been a different bird, the first one, it seemed like he was much taller.
Had him (her?), had him some big feet, two toes forward, two toes backwards, and I’m sure he could make some tracks. I think the image is the “Mrs.” as the male was taller, and he he’d that beautiful crest. Described as “ragged,” his was anything but, a proud comb.
Side notes: part of the cuckoo family? In real life, the bird coos, more like a dove than the cartoon version of “Meep-meep.” Does move fast.
While I didn’t hear any coyotes, there was, on the path to lake, possible coyote scat. Until we get a really good rain, the background could look desert-like.
Life imitates art?
Fall; or, Dodge in Hell – Neal Stephenson
The biggest problem, other than the sheer size of the tomes themselves? I can come across as such a fan boy for this author’s work. But as a whole, and in places, it is considerate, well-thought out, and surpassingly nimble despite the epic proportions.
“His was a soul lacking any built-in adult supervision.” Page 34.
Always a turn of a phrase, poetic, so much information in short spaces.
There’s an element — two by the end of the first section — in part, it’s such a rich history that wends through a number of the author’s previous work, but then, too, it’s his delightful prose, somewhat stylized, and razor sharp.
“Crazytown was repelled by facts and knowledge, as oil fled from water, but was fascinated by the absence of hard facts, since it provided vacant space in which to construct elaborate edifices of speculation.” Page 267.
Yeah, we know that place. Some of us lived there.
There was a scenario from part way through, and I realized what it sounded like, the old world version of novel I last read some years ago. Hardwired is one of the great novels in the understanding of the myth of America and what our future might appear to be.
As I was reading, think the author is a Pluto-in-Virgo Scorpio, I had to marvel at a possible layer of satire, leavened in sandwich style. Or not.
Portions of my childhood were spent cruising up and down the bulk of the Louisiana Purchase, which echoes part of the background for some of the settings. The American West, the land of myth and mystery, lore, and not much more?
“Enoch seemed to take it as a cue to shift gears. “Suppose all of that comes to pass, Sophia, and you get that job and embark on that career. Twenty years from now, how will you know if you have succeeded?” Page 428.
I wrote a post about the up and coming 25 years of weekly horoscopes. Not where I thought I would be 25 years ago?
Good books have any number of sidebar items, why I am a fan boy of this author’s work, and I think linguists — language arts — where it all starts. After all, language is nothing more than an operating system for the brain, right?
Sidebar redux: There is no cloud.
Some years back, I had a rather sophomoric attempt at a novel. Successful as an exercise, but narrative that never took form. I let it be; doubt that are any fragments left. When the inevitable starts to occur in this novel, I was left wondering if that was what I was attempting, back then.
Moral, and metaphysical, issues open up, makes one wonder.
The term “Space Opera” came to mind, the sprawling epics from literary past?
Or a game, I played, on a computer, early years. Back when the graphics on a Mac were suddenly “advanced” compared to any other options. Yes, game that ran away with processes. Using a cheat, made it better. Much like that. Eerily reminiscent, I would suppose.
“Far outside the bounds of legit peer-reviewed research. More of a performance art project.” Page 521.
Where I find my work, and pause, think about it, much of cutting edge tech.
“It was a little bit like the world’s adoption of the Internet, which had started with a few nerds and within decades become so ubiquitous that no person under thirty could really grasp what life had been like before you could Google everything.” Page 569.
As solid an analogy as any? Don’t know if it will stand up to time, but certainly topical.
Getting to the end? Reminded me:
“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”
Arthur C. Clarke’s (Third) Law (circa 1940)
Please, stop asking, “How stupid can they be?”
Looks like some take that as a challenge.
More properly, and since that was decades past, I can easily refer to the aforementioned “Red Pumps” as stripper shoes. “CFM” footwear?
Stiletto heels. Bright red.
This was old Austin, and I was stuck somewhere between an Aries, a suite of Virgos, and some Gemini. Others, too. I was still a regular at Magnolia Cafe, Threadgills, and, timing was early double-aughts. Pretty sure about that. Okay, I’m less than sure. Mid 90’s to early double-aughts?
Follies and fantasies of youth?
For some reason and I can’t find any reference in my own material, although, I was sure I did reference this, maybe in a horoscope?
It was another hot Texas summer in Austin, and there was a whole raft of these young women, a tightly knit group of strong female characters. Individuals, but also a crowd. I floated merrily on the periphery — facts, age, relationships — all posted me carefully on edge of the group, a walk-on, bit-player, that’s my position.
One spring evening, I was someplace, they were someplace else, and there was a situation, ex-boyfriend or something, and somehow, there were three cars but only two drivers.
“Here, Kramer, you drive the truck.” It was just s short trip from the compound to the warehouse, not really even across town, and much less of a distance than I’ve walked before, so it wasn’t a big deal. Hope springs internal, always did.
Three-on-the-tree, 3/4-ton Dodge Ram. Fitting it belonged to an Aries?
My old joke, “I can’t drive an automatic.”
Not entirely uncommon, I had left the trailer park barefoot, because I had no distinct plans that evening, and no need to wear shoes, or even sandals. Not going out to eat or anything, probably riding with a friend, perhaps one of the aforementioned females of interest.
“Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel…”
The misty times of memory are getting worse, and I recall less detail, other than, for a brief moment, I was driving south on Congress Ave., cop behind me, and while I had a valid license, I didn’t have footwear, and I would’ve been hard-pressed to explain the red pumps on the seat next to me.
It’s been ten years, and maybe more, since I last laid eyes on you…
“Well, it’s been ten years and maybe more since I first set eyes on you.
The best years of my life gone by, here I am alone and blue.” (Heartbreaker)
They all are. Interesting counterpoint, the sister showed up between the San Marcos and Blanco River, and when she said hello, I couldn’t remember her name — just her sign.
Salient take-away image for me, driving south, around, before, Y2K? Big, manly truck, and me, minimally clad with no footwear except for a set of red pumps on the seat next to me.
All is now lost in the sands of time.
“17. To crave impossibilities is lunacy; but it is impossible for the wicked to act otherwise.”
“It is crazy to want what is impossible. And impossible for the wicked not to do so.”
Marcus Aurelius
Delphi Complete Works of Marcus Aurelius – Marcus Aurelius
Meditations – Marcus Aurelius & Gregory Hays
Meditations: A New Translation (Modern Library)
As always a free version is hosted on astrofish.net right here.
#meditation
Intriguing intro to the updated edition, by Stephen King, whom I respect. Heard the sequel was good, so I thought I would start at the beginning.
“But it’s hard to hold a grudge against the dead.” Page 21.
Just getting introduced.
As much as anything, after reading the text, what I recall? I was deeply involved, hooked, from that Stephen King intro, as much as anything. He suggested that the book scared him. I was less than a third of the way through the novel, when I shelved it for other tasks, like summer fish. I knew, moving forward, as twisted, as the tale was? It would be best, for me, if I just finished it all before I tried to sleep.
I was nodding out sleepy, but wide awake and alert because there are a few extra twists near the end. It’s not over until it’s over, and even, then, there was room for more.
I’m still looking for another series that’s been as enjoyable as the Sandford/Davenport/(effing)Flowers collections, and I’m not sure, looks like there are three in this group thus far, but the level of intensity is weirdly, I don’t know, addictive?
With the first denouement, according to the kindle, I had another 10% of the story left? I knew it wasn’t over.
Makes for exciting reading. I didn’t bother with reading notes, just a weird sense of the way it jumps around in narrative form, but still, tautly woven together.
When I got around to deciding if I liked it or loved it? I adored it. The premise and the extras, front-loaded, unbeknownst to the reader?
I kept thinking it was along some of the same ground as a Grisham novel of recent experience, but no, I could find no real-time connection. I think some of the background in one is the foreground in another.
There’s the wounded, flawed basic narrator, and he’s amusing to follow, blundering along with budding romance. Yeah, demands of the plot and such.
Very glad I started at the beginning, two more to go.