ㅁ Bad philologists invent implausible tongues which no one can speak.
– a pseudo-haiku
Year: 2021
Caveat: Tree #1051
This tree is tilted (well, maybe it was the camera).
[daily log: walking, 3km; dogwalking, 4km]
Caveat: Dogwalking #2
In my neverending quest to enumerate all of life’s sundry banalities, I will share some pictures from a second dogwalk, this morning, after having written up the first dogwalk yesterday. The world is being exceptionally photogenic lately, anyway.
Caveat: Poem #1951 “Centrists”
ㅁ Fun philologists generate appendices for complex fictions.
– a pseudo-haiku
Caveat: Tree #1050
This tree is from my past. I took this picture in April, 2016, along a street a few blocks north from my apartment in Ilsan, Korea. It’s along the main route I would take to walk to the cancer center, along the western edge of Jeongbalsan Park. The pink paper lanterns hanging on the trees are part of the celebration of Buddhamas (Buddha’s birthday), a normal springtime holiday generally falling in April or May.
[daily log: walking, 3km; dogwalking, 3.5km]
Caveat: Dogwalking
Our neighbors-down-the-road, Mike and Penny, have a dog named Maya. Maya is a very energetic young malamute. Yesterday when I was at work, Penny came into the gift shop and reported that Mike had had an incident while walking the dog, and had fallen down and because of that, was now unable to walk the dog. Penny described a dog desperate for dogwalking.
Now that I am not working so much on my treehouse project – which was a lot of physical labor and excellent exercise – I think I need to start walking more. So I volunteered to walk down to Mike and Penny’s house and take the dog on a walk. What better morning for a neighborly dogwalk than one coated in fresh-fallen snow? I walked down to their house, collected the dog, walked with her back up to our house and back down to their house again, then walked back home. Total, about 5km just for that.
Here are some pictures from my long dogwalk.
Caveat: Poem #1950 “Illumination”
ㅁ When I woke up, now, I went out and walked, predawn. Stars and snow made light.
– a pseudo-haiku
Caveat: Tree #1049
This tree was by the road.
I went and got Arthur at the airport after leaving work today. He arrived safely back among the trees and precipitation.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 6hr]
Caveat: Poem #1949 “A dark grey mission”
ㅁ In winter's dark the stones lurk, stark my light's an ark guiding my way. Raindrops glisten; I walk, listen without mission to start my day. I stand and think on the path's brink trees shade like ink... the sky turns grey.
– a rhupunt – a Welsh poem style I tried once before.
Caveat: Tree #1048
This tree experienced typical weather.
[daily log: walking, 3.5km; retailing, 8.5hr]
Caveat: Poem #1948 “Not quite true”
ㅁ Eldritch cartographers drafted the world, coastlines and islets took shape and unfurled, demons were crafted to lurk in the holes scattered about like impertinent souls.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter.
Caveat: Tree #1047
This tree is bent under snow.
[daily log: walking, 3km; retailing, 8.5hr]
Caveat: Poem #1947 “Forty-third stanza”
ㅁ Kiamon reached a decision, at last; do what was needed and take on the past; ghosts might object that the time wasn't right; they'd give up soon, and would fade with the night.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter.
Caveat: Tree #1046
This tree caught snowflakes.
[daily log: walking, 2km; shoveling snow, 30min]
Caveat: Poem #1946 “Tag-teamed”
ㅁ Some snow covered the driveway, but then rain overtook it again, and all day snow and rain, switching, at play.
– an englyn penfyr.
Caveat: Tree #1045
This tree was near a house.
[daily log: walking, 1km]
Caveat: Poem #1945 “If you look closely enough”
ㅁ Bored cartographers add improbable places which you can detect.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1044
This tree was still in the mountain’s shadow at almost mid-day.
[daily log: walking, 3km]
Caveat: can it be fixed?
I spent way too much time this morning trying to fix my coffee maker. I feel like maybe my role at the gift shop, this past year, as “Jared can fix anything,” is spilling over to my home life.
One of two little plastic pegs had broken off inside my coffee maker. The pegs support the hot plate that is at the bottom of the unit.
And the household supply of superglue was superannuated and entirely solidified – not useful.
So I improvised. I made some wooden shims which I attached with well-folded strips of duct tape.
It seems to work.
Caveat: Poem #1944 “And they succeed”
ㅁ Mad cartographers try to make a world in which physicists shudder.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1043
This tree failed to express gratitude.
I went to Wayne and Donna’s (the gift shop owners) for an unconventional thanksgiving dinner of ribs and potatoes. They are in a stressful time – they are leaving for Seattle in the next few days, where Donna is scheduled for tumor-removing surgery. Which is something I can sympathize with.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: Poem #1943 “Apathy”
ㅁ Dumb cartographers draw some lines, call it a day. The next guy gets lost.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1042
This tree sheltered a deer by the road (lower left).
[daily log: walking, 3.5km; retailing, 6hr]
Caveat: Time-traveling logistics
Yesterday at work, I got an email notification announcing the delivery of a package to the store (as one does). The thing is, no package had been delivered, and one wasn’t delivered later that day, either. Actually, this isn’t uncommon – when UPS “delivers” a package to our store, they are actually delivering it to a third-party company that covers the last 30 miles from Ketchikan to the island, because UPS doesn’t actually deliver to the island. They let the floatplane company, Taquan Air, handle those last miles. All well and good.
What was disturbing (or interesting?) about the email announcement in this case was, rather, the fact that although the email was delivered at 10:16 AM, the package was allegedly delivered (past tense, was) at 3:42 PM. That means that somehow, the notification had arrived via email from the future! “Wow, if UPS has solved that one, they can’t be stopped,” I mused.
Caveat: Poem #1942 “The map”
ㅁ Lost cartographers are fundamental failures. I mean... got the map?
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1041
This tree had some snow on it.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 8.5hr]
Caveat: Definitely take the tram
I found this story hugely amusing, and thought-provoking too.
There’s a lot of context required to make sense of this story. The author, John Holbo, a philosopher whose bloggings I frequently read on the group-blog Crooked Timber, explains much of that context in a supplemental webpage – so I’ll not make any major duplicative effort here.
The minimal context: the story is a parody of (or extension/sequel to) Ursula Le Guin’s story, “The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas”. Without knowing that story, you will be hard put to begin to make sense of Holbo’s creation. Unfortunately, as he points out too, there is no freely accessible web version of her story – it’s still under copyright and requires purchasing a version of the text (ebook, paper book, audiobook). Anyway, wikipedia has a good summary.
I am tempted to add a town called Omelas to my fictional maps – and it should definitely be accessible by tram. Actually, my geofictions are full of such “easter eggs” (as they’re called in the realm of modern electronic-domain creative works, such as computer games and websites): references to other works of fiction and tributes to other authors’ geofictions.
Caveat: Poem #1941 “Deception”
ㅁ fake cartographers produce their maplike objects to impress people
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1040
This tree was there as two mice prepared for a burial-at-sea.
[daily log: walking, 4km; retailing, 6hr]
Caveat: Poem #1940 “Banalities”
ㅁ dull cartographers reproduce the lived-in world slavishly banal
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1039
This tree is diligently guarding the path up to the greenhouse.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: Poem #1939 “Objective”
ㅁ rogue cartographers try to shift reality artistically
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #1038
This tree was there as the rain turned to snow turned to rain turned to snow ↻ ↻ ↻ …
This morning I watched Art board a plane on his way to Portland for Thanksgiving. “Bye, Art.”
Then I worked at the giftshop all day. “Buy art.”
[daily log: walking, 3km; retailing, 8hr]