No apologies for my absence. I have no excuses. Health feels fragile today, like a toy top spinning — we all fall down.
I watched Dummy today. Adrian Brody before “The Pianist”, and well worth the watch. One of the better movies I’ve seen – lately, ever – good movie, anyway. Emily leaves for Vegas on Sunday for a few days. The sister’s (2nd) wedding. I wonder what a wedding is like, what a 2nd wedding is like. How much can the bride be blushing when it’s all been done before? But no, maybe that’s mean and insensitive, and illogical. That’s like saying how much fun can a relationship be if it’s your second one, no matter that it’s to someone different.
A return to Everquest, but a casual return. In the last week, I’ve played twice. I feel strangely ambivelent to EQ itself. I enjoy spending that time with Emily, sharing an activity — as I enjoy any activity we spend together / share. Still, EQ IS fun. So is Prince of Persia, so is Hoyle Majestic Chess, and so is reading and writing.
I am Buridan’s ass. Status quo, miasma, feet locked in an iron cast — not struggling. I’m Rimbaud’s companion “down below”. I have not taken the road less traveled. Somehow, I think I am a villain. I have no evil laugh, nor curled mustache, nor black sedan with tinted windows. I haven’t got evil intentions. If I had, I would not be a villain. No, my villany comes from a fullness of goodness, unacted upon. My coffers full of charity, I stand by and watched the world starve, consuming depravity like a chimera’s feast. Worse, I criticize, mock, or stand off to the side with an air of careful detachment. That last may be the worst.
Buridan’s ass starves to death. Perfectly good food within sight, within reach, no bars between, nor chasm. No device keeps the ass from its feast except rational thought, the bane of all good dreamers.
No, I am not Buridan’s ass.
But sometimes I catch a glimpse of the beast’s death.
Sometimes I understand it.