Book: Less Than Nothing

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Less Than Nothing

I ran into this book over Christmas vacation and want to read it. 1000 pages and all. Of course I found myself in the philosophy section. The difficulty in all this is that I couldn’t actually tell you what distinguishes Hegel from any other philosopher, and I don’t have the breadth of understanding in philosophy that would be best for reading this book. No matter. Why not start in the deep end? And why such interest? Besides a fact I can not currently explain – that philosophy holds a dear place in my heart – this author is just good: precise word choice, varied/rhythmic sentence structure, and style/personality which permeates/soaks through his thoughts (from my reading of the first few pages and from the reviews of others). Written style tends to compel me as much as content itself. So, should I actually read this book or learn about Hegel (or discover that my previous claims were wrong), I will post back.

To Get Home Before It’s Dark

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A dearly loved poem, written by Grandpa.

Once I was young and active, and now I am getting old.
My body, once warm and dynamic, now becomes so cold.
I was a child around children, now older folks are near
To be my close companions, to share and help and cheer.

Once I loved to travel distance, and see all kinds of sights.
But now I want to stay close by and be at home at night.
I loved to travel here and there, and life was such a lark,
But now my aim is always to get home before it’s dark!

I took a wife and enjoyed life and worked with all my strength.
We built our home with beauty, going to any length.
We worked and played just every day, resting so sweet at night.
With sparkling eyes we bought supplies and did that which is right.

Then came a child into our home, and then arrived her sister.
And, oh, we were so happy; we hugged and cooed and kissed her.
Now I’m a child again, as I play with our sweet family,
And wife and I again games play, so very warm and happy.

The years roll by, grandchildren come; then quiet is our home.
They’ve moved away, makes long my day, as o’er the earth they roam.
Now since I’m old and weary, and have of life a spark,
I’ll keep Heaven on my mind to get Home before it’s dark!

– Rev. Marion R. Thomas

YouTube Therapy

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When I need to relax this is what I listen to.

It’s verging on hypnotic, read by Benedict Cumberbatch. I’ve been amazed to note that poetry doesn’t work unless you devote yourself. The meaning is so thick, meaning every word counts, almost counting double in comparison to prose, that you need to be fully engaged to not miss something. This was written in 1819 so not all turns of phrase are immediately accessible, making it that much harder. But when the rhythm is right, such as in this clip, meaning is clearer. Conclusion: poetry appears to be compacted meaning and emotion carried on the winds of rhythm. And I love it.

Date #1 – The Aftermath

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Well there was no date. He canceled. Day of. Incredibly not classy. He’s off the list now. And most sadly this makes for an uninteresting blog post. Perhaps he wasn’t a killer or a bore, but he’s turned my blog post into a snoozer.

Next time, right?