Monday, September 29, 2008

Even after much has been said, more always remains. Words do not exhaust meaning. And yet we persevere and talk as if the explanation of the problem were enough to solve it. This is my ultimate frustration with what I do.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

From the New York Times' review of Philip Roth's new book 'Indignation', an excerpt:

His father, a kosher butcher in Newark, Marcus recalls, had become “crazy with worry that his cherished only child was as unprepared for the hazards of life as anyone else entering manhood, crazy with the frightening discovery that a little boy grows up, grows tall, overshadows his parents, and that you can’t keep him then, that you have to relinquish him to the world.”

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

The day's been rather quiet. The weather's been soporific.

I read all morning, took a walk, read some more, made some lunch, went to a meeting, came back, watched the Daily Show and am now contemplating dinner.Perhaps some vegetables...Baby food makes for great chow on lazy days.

Also have to plan for tomorrow. Planning for a day, I have discovered, demands more effort than planning for a year. That much less margin for error. Or flexibility.

There is comfort in planning though. As there is in quiet.

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

I have a strange relationship with the corporation and with corporate life in general. I desire it and abhor it in turns. And today I was reminded of the worst parts of it that I can happily do without:

(a) The penchant for stating the obvious
(b) The penchant for stating the obvious again and again and again
(c) All of the above + the need to stay impeccably coiffure-d and kitty-licked; as if the appearance of control is but the symptom of a causal inner control

So we have verbiage and the debris of the mind. As if "to say" is not an action that merits thought or effort. Eeyugh!

One sees parts of it seeping into academia as well in that words seem to have no value. And I value words. If nothing else, I value them as a measure of meaning, as the only way to know and without which meaning would have no meaning. And yet, I find them strewn about like so much flotsam and jetsam. Double eeyugh!

(yes, yes, I see the irony of the endlessly verbose post!)

Between the corporation and academia; the former promising that it will manage that which the latter claims is inherently unmanageable -- I am undeniably torn.

For your viewing pleasure:

Monday, September 01, 2008

The details of the day I cannot encompass in a sentence. For fear they would corrupt my language.

The colors of the curtains I cannot describe with ink. For fear they would stain the page.

The steps I take that I cannot draw on parchment. For fear they would falter and flail.

Things I cannot do.

So many.

Before I do what I can.