taking requests

if you would like me to bring you anything in particular from Paris, you should tell me soon.

and once again, i'm not quite sure when i'm leaving, but it's most likely the first week of june (finals finish the 30th). i'll have a short stopover in new york, then home to winnebago, unless i somehow attain an internship elsewhere before then (looking sadly unlikely—if you can hook me up in that manner (marketing or film preferred, pittance necessary), please do, and i'll bring you some macaroons or something).

anyway, this weekend i'm off to the host parents' farm in normandy in between panicking over papers and finals.

dimensions of fuzz

the lines of four meanings

rotate to understand. or just look.

mindnet

the following two passages are the result of watching the intro videos at spacecollective.com, which i ended up at from a post by bob stein (macarthur-certified genius, dan's "boss") on the if:book blog. if i could give these pingbacks, i would, but blogger sucks, so i can't, sorry. i recommend the videos, but they're not really necessary. it's a lot of loose ideas, not very refined. anyway, enjoy. it's kind of out there.
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thoughts after watching videos at spacecollective.com while half-drunk*

If people had chips implanted in their brains that allowed them to access all the information and other people on the “mindnet”, would they, and how?

The information, yes, people would, but how do you format information for a mind? One approach is a HUD sort of thing that would impose itself on one’s field of vision. This is a child of the book-based linear way of thinking. Another option is by emulating the way we think, which seems at first to be the optimal way. Unfortunately, this is actually not much better than a radio over which you exercise control. Instead, we need some sort of way for people to experience data; while this may start with a sort of virtual reality, it can extend far beyond the conventional conception of such a thing as a mere recreation of the physical world. It could equally be a mental browser or a yet unimagined medium.

As for people, whether people would and how they would are directly interrelated. One possibility is for one to literally hear (or see) the others thoughts; essentially two minds within the same (two) brain(s). The problem with this is that it does not allow one to consider what to say; there is literally no such thing as privacy. Thus, this seems like the sort of thing one would only want to do with those people closest to them, such as significant others; certainly not business associates.

A more conventional possibility is to allow the sending of thoughts, similar to an IM. However, the formatting of such a task becomes very difficult. How would one revise their thoughts for “publication”? We do the same thing over IMs, but in this case we have a screen on which to compose. How would one compose in their mind? What do we want a virtual screen to be?

A big issue in this is privacy. A lot of people have the capability for video chats, and yet rarely use it, as an IM or phone/audio chat allows them to multitask and do other things or consult other information while simultaneously conversing. What form would such a silent reference take within one’s mind? The ability to send such a reference, made possible by the hyperlink, would of course be augmented, but how does one hold a conversation and consult media at the same time within one mind? With the existence of Second Life and such worlds, would it actually be possible for one being to thus live in multiple universes at the same time? How? Would this interface be an extension of tabs, as in Firefox, OS X’s dock, or Window’s start bar? or is there a better way to format multiple sources for the mind?

More generally, how does one deal with language and images? We really only have two useful senses in this sense, hearing and sight. Thoughts often take the form of one or the other. However, we often need a medium to convey thoughts which reach beyond a purely aesthetic creation into the reglemented framework of logic and language. How can we use language within the mind? How do we use it already? Is there a way to expand the ways we use language, to a sort of sixth sense purely within the mind? While thought contains the possibility of such a sense, it currently reflects only our senses, though arguably also our intuitions (by which I mean non-logical and usually non-language based thoughts). Intuition seems to be one such way of expanding the thought-verse, but are there additional ways of sensing that could contain or even allow the expansion or subsumption of language? For me, the attainment of such a sense (or perhaps any useful sense) is truly what is required to become superhuman.

In a sense, this is the greatest formatting problem possible: how do we naturally format things? How could we format things within this natural system? What role should language play in this artificial interface with the natural?

* 1. yes, i'm legal here. don't bug me.
2. well...yes. i'm as peculiar a drunk as i am a person, but i like it that way.
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what is a networked mind? is it one thing, or multiple? if two people can hear all of each other’s thoughts, are they “one”? what happens to identity in such cases? what is the link between thoughts and the will? what is the divide between conscious, linguistic thought and less/sub/un-conscious willing that creates action? how far can two people cohabit the same mind–only on a conscious, linguistic level, or could they control each other’s bodies? what happens in the case of conflicting wills? would this actually neurally or otherwise destroy the people in question?

We get a simplistic model of a networked mind in Aeon Flux, where the resistance movement is organized in a virtual world that exists within the networked minds of the members. However, this world is merely a recreation of earth (with nice visual effects). There is also the idea of a message in a liquid which presents itself directly in the mind via a superimposed voice, imitating thought. The liquid is a physical extension between unnetworked minds, a sort of thumb drive. The formats of the information communicated, though, are rather simple–an audio recording and an audiovisual earth-type virtual world. As it was necessary to present this intelligibly in a movie, though, the attempt at all is quite impressive.

the parisian vector

the vector from the louvre, through les jardins des tuileries, across place de la concorde, down the champs elisées (napoleonic/romantic/naturalist and mercantile halves), through l’arc de triomphe, down boulevard charles du gaulle through neuilly, across the seine, through la défense with its modernist bauhaus office buildings, through la grande arche, down the steps, and out along the boardwalk to nowhere traces the path of human history.

i could give you a full analysis, but frankly you can figure it out if you know the places at all.

olympic torch

something i meant to document a while ago:

the olympic torch and demonstrations happened right outside my apartment. i went to go see, as demonstrations are a major part of parisian life, which i felt i should experience (nobody can demonstrate like (or as often as–seriously every day) parisians.). there were a number of pro-china protestors, which kind of surprised me, though a most of them appeared to be chinese immigrants. i'm not quite sure what the trends of allegiances are in that community. there were a bunch of pro-tibet protestors supported by reporters without borders, with a nice little poster/flag of the olympic rings made of handcuffs. the people demonstrating can be real jerks, too–often one from one group would jump in front of the other and start waving their flag and screaming or whatever. when there was violence, this was usually the cause.

the other notable part was the police. i heard on the radio that there were 3000 officers of the national police dedicated to that event. they had riot-proof police vans literally bumper to bumper so you couldn't get through lining the route, plus officers policing this perimeter. people crossing it was the other cause of violence–the police would not hesitate to pick somebody up and toss them back into the crowd. my host brother said he saw one police officer take a tibetan flag from a protestor, then run away at the threat his upset comrades. a number of the police were wearing plastic body armor and were on rollerblades. it was scary and funny at the same time. i actually did see the torch, flanked by about 10 of these guys, plus a few others. apparently they're experienced with demonstrations here. nevertheless, they had to retreat onto the bus eventually as the protestors got the upper hand.

i may make it sound more violent than it actually was, though. by and large, it was just a little tense, but not violent. people didn't really want to go there. at least 30 or so people did end up getting arrested though. so it goes.

pictures

so saturday i took a lot of very nice pictures, mostly textures, in le jardin du luxembourg, and tried to put some of them up in a slideshow here, but blogger is not cooperating. however, you can see some of them here, on my flickr page. i'll likely put them on my deviantART, too (at least some), because i love that site, but that may take a while. my image workflow is much slower than my text one; sorry. it should get faster and more efficient as i figure these things out.

here's one to tide you over:

some real collectanæ

i hate the academie française because they are linguistic fascists.

a businessman riding a velib down the center of rue St. Germain wearing lime green alligator skin shoes

eye-flirting is an art which cannot be successfully described in words, except maybe by a very talented poet. james blunt tried half-successfully, but it's hard to get the nuances of the electric rush right.



babylon road

a man with a briefcase jaywalking across the three lanes to the center of place de la madeleine, empty save one car coming at him in the middle lane. he holds his hand up in between a nazi/union solidarity salute and a force push to ward off the car as he continues to walk at exactly the same speed as the car slows for him.

we are the dreams of god

philosophy is the flailings of the human mind

people who think that nature is ordered or ideal have obviously never slept naked in the woods.

people suck at conceiving the form of god due to our inability to think outside a logical framework



english words i miss
awkward
nevermind
whatever
should
the "a" in aesthetic
irksome

the globalization of bread as a time-dependent good

please don't steal; add. i want to make a student publication (potential title: POMARIUM, or maybe just COLLECTANÆ—i've got an obvious weakness for that word) of such truck, probably starting next semester, if anyone is interested in helping or contributing.

my own efforts

weekends, i've taken up cooking for myself, as it makes me happy, and a lot cheaper than eating at comparable restaurants. some of my efforts from recent weeks:

linguini with fresh mozzarella, basil, garlic, tomato, olive oil, and aeoli sauce (like an italian mayonnaise with lots of garlic). simple, but delicious—and pretty too. freshness makes it work.

i've found that linguini is the ideal pasta, because its elliptical cross section maintains a nice al dente texture in the middle, without any sogginess on the outside. this brand had a nice flour finish on the outside, which helps it hold sauces nicely.




my first ever efforts at chicken korma. i bought sauce, which turned out to be too mild, so i added a few cayenne peppers, which put things right. chicken, carrots, tomatoes, and shallots with lentils and chick peas over rice and served with yogurt. for a first attempt, it wasn't bad, though i cooked the chicken a little long, so it was a little dry, and my dry lentils produced a little bit of a paste when cooked that messed up the texture a bit. not bad, but i might leave them out next time.



my favorite, of which i don't have a picture, is pépé, a little bead-like pasta (imagine 1/4 inch spaghetti chopped into little cylinders), with Chevroux, a commercial goat cheese, a little butter, and pepper. it's deliciously irresistible.

most recently, i made clear rice noodles in chicken bouillon broth, plus a simple teriyaki sauce i made with sugar dissolved in soy sauce with a few spices. it was very simple (all the stores were closed, so i couldn't get any vegetables or meat), but very good. kind of like a less chemically composited and generally better ramen.

i also discovered that it is incredibly easy to make a great white sauce to turn into fettuccini al fredo with french milk, which has a lot more fat than american milk. unfortunately no hard italian cheese (or really any cookable cheese) was available when i did that, so i ended up with a kind of mildly sad and very garlicky white sauce on my pasta, which was still palatable.

the one food i cannot find a quality instance of in France is bagels (sad). if anyone has a good recipe, let me know, and maybe i'll try it.

Fauchon and Hédiard

my, i haven't put anything up here for a while. which is sad, because there is no dearth of substance. i'll see what i can do to put things right.

a few pictures...first, a babas au rhum from Fauchon. it is gorgeous (note the two little pipette/eyedropper thingys full of rum), but sadly lacking in quality of taste, which was covered by an artificial bubblegum flavor–absolutely terrible. too bad; as it looked so good. because of that, i haven't been back to Fauchon since–everything there looks beautiful (gilded éclairs), but i now doubt the quality. even their bags (see the background) are very classy.

my apologies that this photo is sideways despite my best efforts. if you know an html tag to rotate it, leave it in the comments, and i'll fix it.

across place de la madeleine is Hédiard, which started as a tea and coffee importer, and went on to become a full-on luxury épicerie. it's a wonderful store to wander around. the staff are very nice, as is the atmosphere. they sell nice coffee, tea, chocolate, wine, spirits, jams, honeys, biscuits (tea, not buttermilk), spices, and produce. of course there's other places that specialize in such things, but Hédiard provides a nice aggregation of things guaranteed to be good. i have yet to be let down by their products. it's a happy place.


for easter they had all sorts of huge chocolate roosters all over that were quite impressive. (the french don't have the easter bunny; instead they have the church bells that ring for the first time in a while on easter morning, and throw eggs in the process, supposedly. thus, lots of chickens and roosters, and fish, as a symbol of christianity, all in chocolate, of course.) here they are on a table usually covered with sacks of different varieties of coffee–note the roaster on the right.

i have lots more pictures and stories and little notes and thoughts from my little cahier for recording such things, some of them quite interesting. i shall try to get them up here soon.

driving

a rediscovered facebook note from last fall. it certainly captures a certain mood...
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my life feels like one of those really long road trips where you wake up in the passenger seat all groggy because sleeping in a moving car isn't very comfortable. driving past run down factories and urban sprawl, with fast food wrappers and beer cans littering the unkept grass and ugly concrete curbs. it's overcast, cold, and getting to that grey stage of morning, but without the sunrise. you glance at the clock and see a time foreign to most. you feel one thing, and only one thing: you should be asleep. instead, you drink some coffee that is thankfully still warm, but gives the car that particular road-trip scent, and leaves an aftertaste of it in your mouth to give it emphasis. you look through the food in a brown grocery bag. none of it looks appetizing. dry bread, slightly bruised fruit. instead, you open the cooler to examine the other options, but are met by the other half of the road trip scent. you eat some cheese and salami with the dry bread, and drink some water that tastes of the plastic container it was in to wash it down. you try some beef jerky you find in an open packet despite the fact you would normally find it unappetizing. it is difficult to eat. you do so anyway. your dad pulls the car over onto the wide shoulder of the two lane highway. you get out into the brisk air, and get into the driver's seat as other cars whiz by. you get in and close the door. the cold air has mixed up the scent a bit, but not made it much more pleasant. you readjust the seat as your dad twists around with a pillow in the passenger seat. you drive. you listen to music over headphones to keep yourself awake. you avoid using cruise control as long as possible in an effort to keep yourself active, but eventually give in as your muscles begin to object. your back aches from a lack of lumbar support. you stretch. the caffeine begins to kick in, and you feel more alive. you drive. you smile as you transcend your misery. simultaneously, the sun peeks out from beyond the horizon in a beautiful sunrise. the whole sky turns pink. you smile larger. you drive.

myself

i just footnoted a facebook wall post. that says way too much about me.*
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* particularly regarding the subject matter, but in general, too.

Juno

Well, I failed on all of my promises, and writing for the last week. Briefly: eating aforementioned food (Pierre Hermé stuff: incredible; Verlet coffee: good, but not as good as Café Richard's Sumatran; Poilâne: underwhelming, probably because I prefer white bread; Quatrehomme cheese: good), going to the Louvre (huge, a lot of boring political art, though it's all very meticulously created), some other things, watching a lot of TV and movies, cooking a little (pepe, tiny ball-like pasta, with soft goat cheese and pepper being the best, but also mexican rice because there's no good mexican here), going to church (odd; there's some weird dynamics with language and religion, perhaps to be explored later).

Lately of note, though, is my viewing of Juno. If you don't know anything about it, go here to watch the trailer and familiarize yourself with it if you plan to continue reading. Obviously it has been getting fantastic reviews, and it has a lot of actors and actresses I am fond of, so I really wanted to see it, but somehow didn't until yesterday.

Acting
I feel that Jennifer Garner has a lot of talent which as of yet has not fully been put to use, partially due to being stuck in with the Afflecks and Kevin Smith and that lot (though perhaps Casey will prove me wrong and Gone Baby Gone was not terrible). If Alias had skipped all the Rambaldi crap and been a bit less formulaic in its writing, she would've gone a lot farther. Plus, she seems a lot smarter than the average actress. She is perfectly cast in Juno with her noted introverted, perfectionist personality with a noted passion for family as a perfectionist upper middle class suburban mom, but missing the kids. You spend the movie scared that she'll be too strict with her adopted kid, but knowing that she really cares and ultimately won't screw up, even if her kids will hate her as teenagers unless she relaxes significantly.

I loved Arrested Development for its comedy even despite perhaps being politically colored in its location on Fox, who longs to show us that Republicans can be funny, even if they are corrupt. Jason Bateman did a fantastic job there as a voice of reason, and a fantastic job here in a completely different role as a suburban husband stuck in his 20's. It's good to see he's got some range, even if his emotional depth is more average.

Obviously Arrested Development was also the source of Michael Cera, who has recently enjoyed a jump to stardom with the rise of awkward comedy, particularly in Superbad. It is really nice to see that in Juno he does not get presented as a loser, even if he is.

J.K. Simmons gives what I would say is his best performance to date, as Juno's caring blue collar father. While obviously a stock character, I found him one of my favorite actors in the otherwise pretty unbearable Spiderman series.

Awkward Comedy
Napoleon Dynamite started the recent movement towards awkward comedy in a very love it/hate it indy film that made it big. Since then, it has progressed somewhat to a slightly more realistic, more friendly sort of style. The Office brought it to television; Little Miss Sunshine brought it to the family; Judd Apatow injected it with his own fraternalism theme in his small awkward empire crowned with Knocked Up. I would like to argue, however, that awkwardness has thus far been best utilized in Juno, which not only uses its awkwardness for comedy (a bit of an acquired taste, admittedly), but also to make a social commentary on why it's awkward, as worlds collide (Juno's slightly smart but loserish teenagerness, her school, her parents lower to middle middle classness, her classmate outside the clinic, the clinic, Vanessa's suburban perfection, Mark's elongated 20's). The problem is that while this is effective, the awkwardness is overwhelming to the point of painfulness.

Direction: Broad-Stroked Realism
Jason Reitman did a fantastic job of using very broad strokes while maintaining very deep color in his direction. It's a bit like a very sweeping waltz, with arc after arc, never showing too much, but still creating deep, dynamic characters. He leaves us in serious doubt about Juno's plans by not showing us her note to Vanessa until the very end, framed on the wall, in very Juno-esque language, on the back of an oil change receipt, on the wall of an immaculate baby's room. Coupled with shots like that of Juno reaching into the backseat of her minivan, looking for something to write on in such a manner as to leave us slightly worried for the baby, Reitman manages to fully engage the audience in the plot while keeping a strong sense of reality.

The oddity of it is that after the film, I was still left feeling slightly unconnected with Juno. I am convinced that this is only in relation with other films, and this is not actually a weakness, but a stylistic point. I have no desire to be Juno, though I do not dislike her, but I did remain very connected to the story as a whole. This is a little different perspective than usual, as I do not attach myself to the protagonist, but do remain attached to her choices which make up the story. Reitman used awkwardness to make this possible, but I think it could be done with other styles, if well enough made. The director must avoid, however, creating a protagonist that the audience does not like (a particular risk of awkward comedy which for me killed the first season of The Office and 40 Year Old Virgin, along with a number of otherwise crappy films/series/books/etc.). This masterful manipulation while maintaining a kind of Rodin-like unfinished surface with striking realism is what makes this film great, despite being so awkward I literally needed a break in the middle.

gastronomenae

Today was an exceptional day for food. I had one class, then went to a number of the best gastronomic locations in Paris (and therefore the world), but no restaurants.

First, I went to Verlet to get some coffee (I've already gone through my last bag, which, to be fair, is smaller than its usual American counterpart. That said, this is the most caffeine addicted I've ever been.). I got their Columbian, I believe, and then stopped for an espresso (Panamanian). It was very good, but incredibly citrusy. Not even very coffee-y any more. A little odd, but good.

A short metro ride later, I was at Pierre Hermé, a singularly extraordinary pastry and chocolate shop in the 6ème arrondissement (Paris is divided into 20 arrondissements arranged in a spiral; I live in the 7ème.) There, I bought a 2000 Feuille, a layered pastry; and four small macarons (like two cookies of baked egg white, with a filling in between) in incredibly inventive flavors: passionfruit and milk chocolate, hazelnut and white truffle, olive oil and vanilla, and salt caramel for me. I ate the passionfruit one on the way home; it was truly magnificent.

Around the block is Poilâne, one of the best bakeries in Paris, where they make large country loaves. I got a quarter loaf and a little apple pastry. I love boulangeries because they offer such great products, but for ridiculously low prices. Mmm. Poilâne is very small, like all of them, but produces some magnificent breads.

My last stop was a little ways down Rue de Sèvres: Quatrehomme, a fromagerie (cheese shop) which packs several hundred cheeses into its small store. I bought a nice semi-soft goat cheese covered with chives to go with my bread. Goat cheese is much more prevalent here than in the US; I'd guess between a third and a half of cheese here is goat cheese. A different flavor, but one that grows on you quickly.

I haven't eaten most of these things yet; more pictures and critiques are sure to follow.

camera!

My camera finally arrived today! It is a gorgeous Sony DSC-T70 (silver), currently in need of a name (please leave suggestions in the comments). Lots of pictures will be coming shortly, once I take a few more and figure out how to best present them here. For the moment, here's one to tide you over.
For the next two weeks, I only have one class, so I'll most likely be going to a lot of museums and such, and in search of good food. More details to follow.

coffee, summer

today i bought the perfect size french press–it makes exactly one mug of coffee (three demitasses, i think). i bought it from a maison richard store around the corner. maison richard is the people that make cafés richard, which is the coffee used in at least 7/8ths of the cafés in Paris, from my estimation. so when i noticed the shop a couple down from my boulangerie (bakery), i stopped in in search of a cheap but beautiful tea cup and pot, but instead found a perfect french press for a quarter of the price of ones i was looking at last year.

of course, they also sell coffee there–a lot of coffee, and a lot of types. i asked the guy helping me which he recommended, and so i ended up with a Sumatran one. since i got home, i've drank three pots. it is simply amazing. easily available espresso everywhere in Paris is nice, but this is actually better. it is low acidity, very smooth and mellow, and needs no milk at all. lots of flavors, but none overpowering, so you get a nice smooth flavor. i am absolutely in love with it. those cups of coffee are my favorite experience in Paris thus far. completely mindblowing.

other than that, all i did today was run to the grocery store, cook dinner, watch a couple movies, and send an email to my advisor about summer research grants. i am thinking of something starting with art theory and working towards a theory of the beautiful, hopefully working with a museum or art school, plus some of the Pomona philosophy profs. i'm not sure where that means i would be living; if anyone has any museum or art school connections with people that may find this interesting, please let me know. if i could find someone at the getty or the art institute or risd or moma or somewhere, that would be completely awesome. i've got about a month before proposals are due.

it has been nice; this is the most relaxed i have been since, well, last summer. i'm in between january term and the beginning of regular classes, and everybody else is in the south of france for the weekend. (well, mostly. don't worry, i'll get there.) middlebury is serious, but not overly intense. so far i don't have to work that hard, though that will doubtlessly change some when regular classes at Paris I start. not too worried, other than the fact that i still kinda suck at french, especially speaking. oh well.

my host family is gone for the weekend (thus the dinner-cooking), which has actually been very nice. i forget just how happy i am by myself. just me, some food to cook, coffee, tea, adobe illustrator (i've been working on some ornamental designs; maybe i'll post some up here eventually), music, a movie, a book. i like big cities, but i like to be independent in them. i know that means i am at least mildly antisocial, but i have accepted that, so i can appreciate my life more without constantly trying to change myself. moving to a new culture has pushed me to conform, but i am now beginning to reassert my personality, which makes me much happier. copying other people all the time in an effort to fit in is only good when it still allows you to be yourself.

oh, and i did run into two pomona people on the street that are in the IES Paris program. it was nice; small world.

my theory of art and other collectanae

what follows is a transcription of notes i wrote in my pocket notebook (everyone should have one; along with a good pen, completely indispensable) today, starting during my less-than-amusing art history class (only for the month of january; not my choice), and continued on my bus ride home. it is some of the best thoughts i have had regarding aesthetics. (i plan on writing my thesis next year on aesthetic ethics, but as yet lack formal training in aesthetics.)

it is completely unorganized and unpolished, but it is good.

on a semi-related note, i'm looking into starting a publication or blog, very likely through Pomona, if it requires money, with snippets of ideas (visual, textual, or possibly audio or video) donated by people, for artists (a term i take to include not only painters and sculptors, but also photographers, writers, musicians, cinematographers (vaguely; there is beauty in movies), and any other creator of beauty through whatever medium) to use as inspiration or further develop. if you're interested (even if you're not in claremont), please let me know. my tentative name is pomarium.

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I like art. I hate criticism of art, and therefore art history. The theory of art is good and interesting–dynamics of color, texture, shape, light, movement, etc.–and to some extent the history behind a work of art can be useful, but for any great work of art, it is useless. The greatness and beauty of any work of art is not dependent on an individual's interpretations or thoughts or history, but comes instead from an ordinary person's reaction, independent of conditioning. [Beauty is how art lets us discover our own souls.] It is not something that must be deciphered. Deciphering art is the glose* of which Montaigne so disdainfully speaks. This definition of art is in no way limited to painting or visual arts, but extends facilely to music, literature, design, movies, etc.
Art theory is good because it helps create beautiful art. Art analysis is trash, because it tries to claim that the theory itself is what is beautiful, not what allows the beauty to be created or displayed. Down with glose, viva beauty.
++++
Beauty that is not self-evident, but which only becomes clear through use is design. Frank Lloyd Wright's form and function, architecture, engineering.
++++
Symbolism not self-evident is shit.
++++++++++++++++
Kierkegaard's imaginary beauty** is inferior to its real equal. (Why? Permanence?) These fantasies are the beautiful ideas that when realized become art. Unfortunately, Kierkegaard, like most of us, lacked the artists ability of realization.
Perhaps this "realization" is more "permanization". If Kierkegaard had written (very well) his fantasies in a book, how would that compare to his actually experiencing the fantasy (note: not what he actually did experience)? Perhaps permanization is what allows us to share fantasies with others. True realization can never be shared, and though superior, is alas, impermanent and transitory.
This is the point of living a beautiful (i.e. realized) life.
++++
Fantasy, Permanence, Reality: a trinamic (or maybe just double dynamic, but it could still be either a-b, b-c; or a-b, a-c, b-c) yet to be fully explored.
Why is reality really preferable? Is it that it allows us to enter more deeply into the beauty of something? I know it is better, even if transitory, but I don't fully know why.
++++
Am I here assuming a theory of the beautiful?
++++
and thank you to the beautiful girl facing the other way on the bus. I, unlike Kierkegaard, would have rather seen your face, but at least you did inspire some productive thought.***

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* My neologism from Montaigne's gloser, the French verb "to gloss", technically, but in this context it really does not translate well.
** Referring to a woman, his fiancé, I believe, of whom he discovered he would rather imagine and write letters to than interact with directly.
*** Namely, this second part.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

and for the heck of it, some other collectanae from my pocket notebook. this next part is truly weird, i know, but still interesting.

____________

I sit at a table in the Smith Campus Center courtyard, reading Nietzsche (Twilight of the Idols).
Drinking a bottle of Perrier I got from the Coop store, not because I wanted to look uppity (the courtyard was crowded), not wholly anyway, but because I had a canker sore, and my stomach was uneasy, and it was hot, and I was thirsty.
Finishing the bottle, I sit, reading Nietzsche, stressed out over my late paper, but enjoying the perfect day and taking in the sun and the noise of the people around me as I sit on my surprisingly comfortable wood slatted chair, one leg up on another one.
I perspire lightly in the heat.
I feel an impulse to throw the Perrier bottle high into the air, to let it crash down onto the concrete of the plaza.
People would stare. They would jump. They would not comprehend. Perhaps someone would get hit by a piece of the glass.
Does it matter? If they stare? If someone gets cut? If someone has to clean it up?
Ultimately, this action as irrational loses all its value if the impulse is not obeyed, but instead considered, or worse talked about (as I proceeded to do), or written about (as I am doing here).*
The value is the irrationality. The beauty of the green glass flying up, hovering, crashing and fragmenting in a beautiful explosion. The value is purely aesthetic. When we talk, or write, we inherently defile this irrationality, because our language and thoughts are so inherently rational.
In the end, I did not throw the bottle. I think I will always regret that, regardless of the social impropriety.
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* Thus why I never previously attempted to publish this (in addition to it making me look mildly insane...w/e).


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Every word you speak,
every word you write,
about my art
defaces my art.

...or something like that, except less shitty sounding.

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the possibility of post-logical systems

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also, i hate the sound of "pocket notebook". if you have a better term for it (or a name for mine in particular), please post it as a comment.

the undecided

i am the design editor of The Undecided, a vaguely political student publication at Pomona. today i received the prompts for the february issue from the editor in chief. i present them here, because frankly, we can always use more good articles. i suppose this is mostly intended for Claremont students, but we'd probably accept a good article from anyone, if one interests you. no pay, just resumé props.
-edward
______________________

Here are the prompts from the upcoming issue of The Undecided. If you're interested in writing on one of these topics, please contact the editor responsible. As always, feel free to forward this email on to anyone else you think might be interested in writing for the issue. Each article should be somewhere between 600 and 900 words long:

Prompt 1:
Editor: Gregory Carter (Gregory.Carter@pomona.edu)

The American economy is, in the view of many economists, heading towards a recession. This has already had an impact on the 2008 American presidential election, with candidates on both sides of the aisle pushing various economic stimulus packages. The candidacies of Mike Huckabee and John Edwards seem to indicate that a sort of economic populism, relying in large part on helping the middle and lower class and putting up protections to staunch the flow of jobs overseas, may be taking hold in America. Even Hillary Clinton, whose husband enacted the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) and led the charge for globalization, has questioned some provisions of that agreement. This change in the national economic dialog raises several questions. Is globalization flawed, or is this just an expected bump in the road as the economy is forced to shift its focus? Are these candidates for president merely pandering to anti-freetrade interest groups, or is this shift away from free trade the beginning of a new era of American isolationism? Finally, should America embrace this populism or continue to subscribe broadly to a free

trade agenda?

Prompt 2:
Editor: Brittney Andres (Brittney.Andres@pomona.edu)

The recent violence in Kenya over the result of a disputed democratic election has unfortunately come to mirror the violence endemic in many other African nations. Almost more disturbing than the violence itself is that it occurred in a country that the international community generally believed to be a model African democracy. Do the examples of Kenya and other arguably failed elected governments such as Nigeria prove that certain intrinsic features of African countries cause them to be inherently incompatible with democracy? If not, what steps need to be taken to encourage the development of sustainable democracies in Africa?

Prompt 3:
Editor: David McCormick (David.McCormick@pomona.edu)

American forces in Iraq have battled against an urban insurgency since the occupation. Last January, President Bush called for a dramatic increase in the number of U.S. troops serving in Iraq and the augmented force began conducting military operations in June. Since this "troop surge," suicide bombings, partisan violence, and US casualties have dropped dramatically. Is the troop surge the cause or are other underlying factors at work? Has the increased troop size had a beneficial and lasting effect on Iraq that will continue after the surge or will the recent gains disappear as soon as the surge troops are recalled? Does the success of the troop surge suggest an end to the war in the near future, or will the U.S. continue to have a presence in Iraq for years to come?

Prompt 4:
Editor: James Dee (James.Dee@pomona.edu)

As a result of the release of the Nintendo Wii and the Sony Playstation 3, video game sales were at an all-time high in 2007. 2008 promises the release of many long-awaited titles for these platforms, such as the controversial Grand Theft Auto IV. Taking advantage of new technologies pioneered in console gaming as well as in the PC platform, such games will undoubtedly be more graphic than ever. These new technological developments revitalize the decade-old debate concerning violence and sex in video and computer games. Now that ultra-realistic violent games are even more widely accessible to young children than they were ten years ago, should the government take a more active hand in restricting the games' availability and content? Perhaps more importantly, is it time to acknowledge that the prevalence of violent and sexual content in video games causes psychological harm? Or, is this belief misguided?

If you need some examples of previous Undecided articles, check out the website at pcundecided.com. If you have any general questions about the magazine, please contact me at Tgs02004@pomona.edu

best,

Tom

bigthink.com

so ironically i ended up going on a bateau mouche instead of going to the Courbet exhibit, but this post is not about that.
i recently discovered (via a stephen colbert clip, but don't judge yet) bigthink.com, a curious new site trying to foster dialogue and present new points of view on interesting issues. every day it features youtube-like clips by "experts" on an issue, providing radically different positions. it is still very new (about a week old, i think), so i am not sure exactly where it will go, but is worth checking out. there are some pretty radical viewpoints (such as the American Enterprise Institute woman who claims that Iran will fire nukes at Israel first thing after it gets them (so much for deterrence theory)) so it helps to have at least a little knowledge of the subject being addressed beforehand.

noctilien

in paris, the metro runs till 2 am weekends, but the RER (the train lines that run out into the suburbs, but also across paris) apparently does not run that late. last night, this led me to take the metro to a st. michel to transfer to the RER to go home, but regrettably left me stuck. there does exist a night bus (not as cool as the Knight Bus; see Harry Potter) that runs through the night, which is called the noctilien.

the problem with the noctilien is that it has practically no documentation. at the stops, it tells you the name of the other stops, but has no map of where they are, like the regular bus lines. thus, you have to kind of guess from your knowledge of paris geography where it goes. it is also difficult to find an entire map of the noctilien system. i actually have one, but unfortunately neglected to bring it last night.

consequently, i found a few noctilien stops, but they did not go where i wanted to go. so i walked. st. michel is the stop right by notre dame and the latin quarter. my apartment is by the eiffel tower and the champ de mars. so i walked halfway across paris, perhaps two miles or so. the nice part was that this was all right by the seine, so the walk was pretty, with the exception of the huge lit "bateaux mouches" (the tourist boats) sign. i could have taken a taxi, but it was a nice walk, and i was not tired. the moral of the story: take your noctilien map when you are out late.

***************
just a note: i've got a huge pile of emails/facebook messages to sort out. if it's you i haven't gotten back to in a timely manner, sorry, i'm not ignoring you, i'm just behind a bit.

rodin museum

today i went to the rodin museum. it was fantastic. they've got some nice gardens with sculptures spread throughout, which is nice, plus a gallery which is just the right size. they also have some really famous paintings by other people there too, just kind of around: renoir, van gogh, monet, etc.

mostly, though, it is a museum very centered around rodin. not everything is great, but some are truly spectacular. there are the well known ones, like the penseur (thinker), the burghers of calais, and a number of others, but some of his less famous ones are even better, i think. throughout his sculptures, there is a clear dynamic between the weight of conscience and the pull of desire. there's lots of very passionate sculptures, lots of people embracing, kissing, etc., but they are all a little dark.

his other sculptures are even darker, but still often very sensual. one of these is the caryatid à la pierre (the fallen caryatid with stone), which is of a caryatid (a woman sculpted into a pillar) who has fallen under her burden. it plays a part in one of my favorite books, robert heinlein's stranger in a strange land. it was very nice to see it in person.

he shows desespoir (dispair, but literally lack of hope) very well. his subjects are very torn between their urges and their morality. there was a model of a work never cast called la tour du travail (the tower of work), which is a spiral tower leading up to two angels at the top.

rodin does angels incredibly well. most of his sculptures are of bodies, so their bodies are very human, but their wings are incredible–very beautifully feathered, with gorgeous lines, not that show motion like bernini, but that are just beautiful for their pure shape. a few times he has a similar effect with women's hair blowing over their faces. truly amazing.

one gorgeous little one was his Derniere vision (Last Sight), which is a piece of marble with a woman's face in it, with a hand around it, and a mans face with a hand over his eyes, but mostly it is just rough marble, like they are fading into nothingness. very nice.

many of his sculptures are very dante-esque, including the one that is by far my favorite, Le Porte de l'enfer (the gates of hell). it is outside, huge, bronze, and fronts what looks like a huge marble tomb. the gates themselves, though, are magnificent. they are covered with sculptures of people of all sorts as they descend to hell, including miniatures of some of his other works, including the thinker, paolo and francesca, the fallen angel, etc. it is truly incredible; you could spend all day looking at its scenes and shadows.

tomorrow i'm going to see the courbet exhibit at the grand palais. more on that later.

sanwiches, crêpes, and such

the french déjeuner (lunch) is an odd institution, not particularly in what it is, but in what it is not. the french are delightfully obsessed with food. it is fairly difficult but not impossible) to find bad food in Paris.

for instance, the french have taken the initially german and then principally american* dish, the sandwich (said sondweesh, one more frenchification) perfected it a bit, and generally made it very french. the french sandwich consists of half a good crusty baguette, sliced halfway through lengthwise, a bit like a sub (its closest american counterpart). from there, the staples are some variety of meat (usually ham, but more like cappacolla ham than american ham), cheese (a good french soft cheese, with rind, usually), and crutités (tomato and lettuce), and perhaps some sort of mayonnaise or sauce.

these are sold everywhere at lunchtime (but not after about 2:00, annoyingly–don't be late to lunch). what is so remarkable is the lack of diversity in french sandwiches. the classic sandwich au jambon is exactly the same, at all seven or so sandwicheries (actually a word) within a block of my school, and throughout the city. there is a little diversity; sometimes you can find sandwiches on a different type of bread, for example (pita, for a sandwich suédois; a heavy wheat sometimes, too), or half-cooked baguettes which are then turned into paninis. i have seen a few variations on this theme. a sandwich americain for example, is a baguette with a hamburger patty cut in half height-wise, tomato, lettuce, and some sort of thousand island/big mac-ish sauce. it is not particularly wonderful. i also saw a sandwich bresilien one time, with roast beef and banana, i believe, though i didn't try it, regretfully.

aside from that, parisian sandwiches are incredibly invariable, and are very universal. it is quite strange coming from a place where every restaurant tries to differentiate its sandwiches (or food in general) somehow. even fast-food restaurants do this (with bacon!/blue cheese!/a buttered bun!/etc!), but nicer restaurants also tout their arugula, sprouts, fresh mozzarella, etc. in france, this does not happen, and i have no idea why. perhaps it is part of the french mentality. perhaps it's also due to the fact that both my school and my apartment are in two of the most expensive and white areas of paris.

the french mentality is a strange thing, though; they are incredibly disorganized (though somehow everything functions, defying comprehension a bit), but love rules, particularly in naming and defining things. the academie française, which is the official governmental body that determines what is and is not a part of the french language, is the paragon of this. it is also very history dependent. the french like to talk a lot about their equality and liberty, while in fact their culture still is very dependent on social status in everyday interactions. i think they're a bit confused about their politics; they all adore louis xiv, are a little hushed but positive about the french revolution, kind of like napoleon i and iii (but not i's architect hausmann, who busted through paris to make its broad avenues), adore the trente glorieuses (the thirty years after WW2 when france became very socialist and built itself up under du Gaulle and Mitterand), and now complain that their economy is not going anywhere, while still not comprehending the idea of a crossdisciplinary program of a sort which would likely help them in a globalizing world. in other words, french politics is almost as messed up as american ones.

other news: i had a fantastic crêpe today with crême chantilly, which is basically very high quality real whipped cream. positively orgasmic. much better than my last crêpe, with citron (some sort of lemon jam, which is horrible). i've also had one with a french hot dog (very different, very good) and cheese inside, one with smoked salmon and greens, and one with ham, maybe potatoes (i forget), and sauce bêchamel. the french eat a lot of crêpes.

i also had rabbit for the first time, which was not bad; kind of like chicken, to be a little cliché.

also: i detest french keyboards. there's a reason few french people can type very fast.

_________________

* i believe. i am by no means a food historian.

alcohol and language

perhaps i'll try and document my brief history later; right now i just have some ruminations on the effect of alcohol on one's ability to speak a foreign language. this came up today during a tour of paris' passages (the very narrow/covered streets left over from before hausmann opened up broad avenues through paris) with my animateur Raphael and a few other students. in his case, it was about speaking english, but it works the same: alcohol substantially helps people speak foreign languages better. he claimed that he needed substantial amounts to speak english well. in my experience, 2-3 glasses of wine makes communicating with my host family much more pleasant. it takes me from sitting and listening during dinner to actually taking part a little more in the conversation.

for me, this raises two questions:

1. to what extent does alcohol help? despite what raphael claims, i don't really believe a keg will help anyone speak a foreign language. obviously the precisely most helpful amount depends on the person and their abilities an inhibitions, but finding the most helpful amount may be difficult to find, because your judgment of your own abilities is doubtlessly somewhat impaired with alcohol.

2. is this dependent on personality? both raphael and i are somewhat reserved. is this effect the same as the overcoming of ordinary inhibitions, or is it in any way specialized to foreign languages? i feel like it may be actually different, but i suppose people's ordinary vs. foreign language inhibitions are also different.

essentially, this is just a reinforcement of something not unusual: that when speaking a foreign language, one must be confident and unafraid to make mistakes if one wants to get better.

****************

hmph. this is not as exciting as i'd hoped. i promise to write something better later.

and so it begins

with hope of not sounding hopelessly narcissistic or letting this be one more annoying email for you to deal with, i am hereby announcing the commencement of

collectanae alistairien: thoughts, journalage, snippets, scrivenering, and tidbits from my current semester in Paris(a blog).

yes, i'm in Paris till june (apologies if you didn't know; i'm quite terrible at keeping in touch, but that by no means means i don't like you). on that note, send this to anyone i forgot, which is quite a number, i have no doubt. so instead of (or in addition to) facebook/aim stalking/keeping track of me, you should go to http://alistaire47.blogspot.com and subscribe to the RSS feed. if you don't know how to do that, look in the help files of your browser. firefox, safari, probably even IE7 have RSS support, which is much more convenient for both of us than me sending you lots of emails.* you may also check out bloglines.com if you're feeling very wired.

i promise to try and keep my blog less narcissistic journaling and more curious musings stemming from experiences in Paris, primarily, hopefully supplemented with lots of nice pictures, once i get my camera. i shall also do my best to keep it updated regularly. nevertheless, if this is completely not of interest to you, please disregard this message, with no guilt whatsoever.

that is all.
edward

* if you REALLY WANT lots of emails, let me know, and i can probably arrange that, too.

et voila

et alors, voila mon blog. i have quite a lot to write, which will hopefully get accomplished soon. we'll see.

as for now, if you feel so inspired to contact me in whatever manner you prefer, here's some possibly useful information:

Edward Visel
chez Mme Jacqueau
12 bis avenue Elisée Reclus
75007 Paris France

cell: 06.20.09.05.28 (French. From the US, call 011.33.62.009.0528.)
aim: alistaire47
email: alistaire@gmail.com
facebook: self evident
other: exists, ask.